More than ‘Bengali’: Artist's union traces invisible routes between West Bengal & Kerala at Kochi-Muziris Biennale
Pinak notes that many migrants from Bengal see Kerala as more welcoming for job seekers than several other destinations.
Pinak notes that many migrants from Bengal see Kerala as more welcoming for job seekers than several other destinations.
Pinak notes that many migrants from Bengal see Kerala as more welcoming for job seekers than several other destinations.
At traffic junctions in the morning or on construction sites across the State, the familiar sight of migrant workers often shapes how many in Kerala imagine West Bengal. For some, the word “Bengali” itself has become shorthand for migrant labour. But the installation by the Panjeri Artists’ Union at the sixth edition of the Kochi-Muziris Biennale urges visitors to move beyond this narrow perception and recognise the deeper historical, cultural and political connections between Bengal and Kerala. Inside the first section of the Coir Godown at Aspinwall House, archival material on the ecological history of West Bengal is placed opposite documentation of Kochi’s river life in Kadamakkudy — a striking juxtaposition that reveals unexpected parallels between the two regions.
The presentation is by the Panjeri Artists’ Union, a 14-member anti-caste collective formed in 2021 with artists primarily from West Bengal and Assam, who are now collaborating with practitioners from Kerala at the Biennale to highlight shared identities and histories. “The first thing many Keralites think about Bengal is migrant labourers. For some, ‘Bengali’ itself has become synonymous with that,” says sculptor Pinak Banik, a member of the union. “We want to shift that perception. Bengal has a long political and cultural history, and there are shared values between our state and Kerala — secularism, progressive thinking, inclusiveness and political awareness.”
Pinak notes that many migrants from Bengal see Kerala as more welcoming for job seekers than several other destinations. This sentiment is reflected in a telefilm presented in the installation, composed of mobile-phone footage shot by Arif Mondal, a migrant worker from a weaving family who documented five years of his life in Kerala to share with his family. The film offers an intimate glimpse into the contemporary migrant experience.
At the same time, the collective does not romanticise migration. It also confronts the vulnerabilities migrant workers face and the prejudices surrounding them. Members point out that Kerala too has witnessed incidents of violence against migrant labourers, including the recent mob-lynching incident in Palakkad, underscoring the need for dialogue and understanding. Through its work, the union attempts to bridge linguistic and cultural divides while encouraging audiences to rethink how migrant communities are perceived and treated.
The installation, titled after the collective itself, unfolds in three evolving, but overlapping phases. Early visitors encountered works centred on migration and displacement, incorporating memories and contributions of migrant workers. By February, the focus shifted to land, water, ecology and culture. By March, the space turns toward shared histories of social-justice movements, agrarian struggles and anti-caste resistance across Bengal and Kerala. Executed through a multidisciplinary approach, the installation brings together sculptures, paintings, tapestries, photographs, documentary screenings, sound works, calligraphy, archival displays, and many more.
The union traces its origins to February 21, 2022, International Mother Language Day, when it was formally established in Banipur, near Kolkata, after years of informal collaboration. The name “Panjeri” derives from a Persian term for navigational instruments, symbolising journeys through uncertain terrain. According to Pinak, the idea of a Kerala–Bengal collaboration emerged from friendships formed during art-school years and ongoing exchanges with Malayali artists across disciplines — from musicians and sculptors to scholars and photographers. These conversations revealed shared interests in history, egalitarian movements and anti-caste struggles, prompting the group to treat art as an explicitly political tool.
“We don’t want to express ideas through a single medium,” Pinak says. “Today, artists rarely work within one form. Research across archives, video, music and oral histories becomes part of the process. We conceptualise collectively and then divide the work according to each person’s strengths.” The first phase of the installation features around 15 artists, the second 14, and the final phase about 10.
For Kerala collaborators such as Kochi-based artist Vibin George, whose underwater livestream from Kadamakkudy using sensors and cameras formed part of the second phase, local partnerships were crucial. “The Biennale is happening in Kerala, so connecting with people here is essential,” says Vibin, a professor at RLV College in Tripunithura. He also notes that Bengal and Kerala share long associations with Left politics and social movements, shaping the collective’s union-based identity.
Beyond migration and caste resistance, the group’s work links the two regions through histories of maritime trade, agrarian struggles and labour movements. It foregrounds structural inequalities, environmental crises and forced migration shaped by global economic systems, while also pointing to solidarities between communities.
Conceived as a living space, the installation evolves through dialogue, archival reinterpretation and public engagement. Talks, performances and workshops run alongside the exhibition, inviting visitors to move beyond viewing art to participating in conversations about identity, belonging and memory. The union has deliberately included both established and lesser-known artists in the project. “The reception has been overwhelming,” Pinak says. “We are happy we could bring this work to Kerala.”