Review / Dr Ved Prakash Bhardwaj
Photography has
long been an essential tool for documenting human life and preserving moments
that later acquire historical significance. The Delhi Art Gallery's
"Typecasting" exhibition, shown at Bikaner House in Delhi, offers an
authentic document of life during that period. Bringing together photographs
from 1855 to 1920, the exhibition undoubtedly offers a rare visual history of
India's diverse communities under British rule. However, the exhibition also
raises several questions. One question is what the photographers and the
authorities of the time were trying to convey by depicting such communities,
especially the lives of tribal people or those working at the lower levels. It
seems that these photographs reflected the colonial policies of the British
rulers, which sought to justify India's exploitation by portraying India as
backward to the world. In this context, it is noteworthy that many have
attempted to prove that British rule was necessary to modernise India. It's
unlikely that this exhibition will be analysed from this perspective or that
any sociological study will be conducted. Therefore, it shouldn't be surprising
if it ends up being merely documentary evidence.
In any case,
the exhibition itself spans a wide geographical range: photographs from the
Lepcha and Bhutia tribes of the Northeast to the Afridis of the Northwest
Frontier Region and the Toda and Vedda tribal communities of the South Belt.
These were accompanied by portraits of talukdars and wealthy Parsi figures, as
well as dancing girls, porters, barbers, and snake charmers. Seen together, the
photographs paint a distinct sociological picture—an attempt to present a
social map of contemporary Indian society through caste, clan, and work types.
However, beyond
their ethnographic surface, the photographs reveal the ideological framework
within which they were created. Colonial photography often served as a means of
controlling power. By dividing communities into visual "types",
British colonial policy attempted to portray Indian society as static, hierarchical,
and backward. The act of photographing was inseparable from the act of
cataloguing—the fixing of identities within rigid visual categories. The
exhibition subtly highlighted this aspect, encouraging viewers to recognise
photography not simply as documentation but as a political tool.
Over time, the
meaning of these photographs has changed. Separated from their original
colonial context, they now serve as essential historical documents. Today, they
invite critical scrutiny rather than tacit acceptance. Details of clothing,
posture, gestures, and atmosphere provide insight into the reality of
nineteenth- and early twentieth-century India. The books and printed materials
displayed alongside the photographs further strengthened this archival commitment,
demonstrating how closely photography was intertwined with publishing,
research, and systematic documentation at that time.
From a
contemporary aesthetic perspective, many photographs appear structured and
rigid. Subjects are often formally posed, sometimes against neutral
backgrounds, emphasising clarity and classification rather than spontaneity. In
contrast to today's creative photography—which places a premium on
experimentation and subjectivity—these early works appear relaxed. Their visual
language prioritises legibility over expressive detail.
Yet such
restraint must be understood within its historical context. Photographers were
frequently guided by ethnographic and administrative objectives rather than
artistic ambition. Technological limitations of early photographic
processes, combined with the colonial desire for systematic representation,
shaped their compositional choices. In several instances, the emphasis on
impoverished or marginalised communities suggests an underlying narrative strategy
designed to reinforce colonial claims of civilisational superiority. The camera
was not neutral; it operated within a discourse that framed difference and
destitution as defining characteristics.
At the same
time, the images inadvertently preserve moments of dignity and individuality. A
fleeting expression, the texture of traditional attire, or the quiet
assertiveness of a stance resists complete typification. Contemporary viewers
may find themselves drawn less to the colonial taxonomy and more to the human
presence that endures within the frame. The very rigidity that once served
administrative ends now allows for a meticulous reading of historical detail.
Ultimately,
“Typecasting” demonstrated how photographs transform across time. What once
functioned as instruments of classification now serve as archives of memory.
They reveal not only the diverse lives of Indian communities but also the
mindset of a colonial administration that sought to define and regulate them.
By revisiting these images within a contemporary gallery context, the
exhibition encouraged viewers to engage critically with both the subjects
depicted and the structures that shaped their representation.
Not just this
exhibition, but all such photography must be viewed and understood from a new
perspective. The agenda of our parallel cinema was often to showcase the
negative aspects of Indian society, and this continued after independence.
Therefore, there should be no doubt that the photographers nurtured by the
British rulers took photographs that were exactly what their masters desired.
In many cases, the emphasis on poor or marginalised communities is indicative
of an internal plan designed to strengthen colonial claims of civilised
superiority. Much has been written about these photographs, but most of them
treat the photographs as objects, without attempting to examine the reasons
behind them.
All photographs are Delhi Art Gallery's property.


















































