But, if all artworks, particularly photographs, are treated as equal within a collection, and the same kind of information is made available for all of them, then do we not, inevitably, fall back into long-upheld hierarchies of image dissemination? The ‘iconic’ photographs, usually made by Western or dominant caste Indian journalists which depict an India that is ageless, timeless, and steeped in tradition and colour, continue to gain more traction because they are already recognisable.

This photograph of a conservancy worker taken inside his tiny home is not as easy to recognise as Steve McCurry’s photograph, The Afghan Girl. Here, we see a man who is most likely a Dalit worker – belonging to the most oppressed caste in the hierarchical caste system practised by Hinduism – seated in front of a garlanded poster of Dr. B.R. Ambedkar at his home. Under his seat, a woman attends to an infant, lying the floor.

How much can I demand from the archive? It holds a lot more than it reveals. The Dalit and Bahujan subject is largely invisibilized within the mainstream archive’s metadata, even though evidence of their presence, of their labour and of their oppression is ever-present in every single piece of material and intellectual history from India.

In Search of Dignity and Justice

The Untold Story of Conservancy Workers (1999-2000)

The MAP collection entry for Sudharak Olwe’s series In Search of Dignity and Justice does not include any information apart from the title of the project, the date and the photographer’s name.

Of course, this is not an exceptional occurrence. MAP’s digital collection viewing system, Cumulus, is built to show only the most basic metadata information attached to the objects in its collection.

But it frustrates me endlessly.

What does it mean to provide access to a wide audience, but only to the most ‘objective’ information – names, dates and sizes? Can this truly be useful to a general public, who comes across images that are deeply symbolic or historically significant, and take away only the year of its production, its size, or its medium?

I know that I am being somewhat unfair. Every artwork in a museum cannot be contextualised for the general public. It is an impossible endeavour to undertake, and is often a subjective process, where individual curators or art historians may provide certain pieces of information while withholding others.

The thing is, context is always essential. It is important that we know, that this man belongs to a community who have been deeply and violently marginalised across millennia of Indian history. It is important for us to recognise, instantly the image of Dr. B.R. Ambedkar, and recognise the significance of his presence in this man’s home.

In his description of the larger series on his website, Sudharak Olwe writes

A few years ago, quite by accident, I descended into the "living hell" A phrase which quite accurately describes the life of these workers. What I saw shook me to the core of my being. That thousands of men and women that were living and working in such dehumanising conditions, filled me with rage and shame. My rage and shame, their faith and trust, these are the forces that have impelled me to "search for dignity and justice", to tell the "untold story of conservancy workers.