Fights, festivals, fear: Sohrab Hura’s angst-ridden India
With his photographs of out-of-control hedonism, punch-ups and blood-letting rituals, Hura captures a nation in the grip of an angry new nationalism
Sohrab Hura’s photobook, The Coast, begins with a fantastical short story written by him. It features Madhu, a woman whose head has been stolen by her obsessive lover. She is awaiting the arrival of “an idiot of a photographer” who wants to capture her and “all the wonderful and vicious things that happened along the Indian coastline”.
The images that follow are indeed wonderful and vicious, almost hallucinatory in their intensity: lovers embrace, angry men come to blows, revellers are caught in closeup, eyes bloodshot, faces daubed with powdered paint, lips smeared with lipstick. Moments of violence are caught in the flashbulb’s glare: a machete drips blood on a bare foot, a man holds a brick above another man he has pinned to the pavement, a woman stares in terror at something – or someone – just out of the frame.