First published on 25 July 2025
Kallol Datta’s latest exhibition -- Vol IV: Truths, Half-Truths, Half-Lies and Lies -- at Experimenter, Colaba, takes forward their ongoing engagements with medieval and contemporary Korean and Japanese culture and society through textiles. The beginnings of some of the research we see represented in this exhibition can be found in Datta’s previous exhibitions with Experimenter, Kolkata -- Volume 3 Issue 2 (2022) and Volume 3 Issue 2/2.0 (2024). Much like their previous work, this project seeks to explore how systems of stratification and tradition, especially when represented through fashion and clothing, can oppress and suppress.
Through the title, Datta tries to tell us that our clothes are more than just fabric and thread - they contain stories of interpersonal relationships, memories, labour, cultural histories, and the evolution and degradation of human society. They elaborate: “The information contained in cloth and clothing practices, especially in the way traditional garments are documented and represented, is not always apparent. And in most cases, not what it seems. Some cultures redact the information entirely, whereas others offer up the meta data on a closer look.”
The show opens with a section titled “Truths Our Clothes Tell Us,” in a room filled with 15 jeogoris suspended in the air. The viewer has to manoeuvre their way through a series of suspended garments, almost like weaving one’s body into the space. The jeogori, usually worn over a bottom garment, looks like a simple blouse, with long sleeves and cloth ribbons or brooches to close the front. As one moves from the front to the back of the room, the jeogoris get shorter, and the widths of their sleeves become narrower, making them almost seem like children’s clothing. This reverse progression marks the actual shortening of these garments from the 18th century onwards, a trajectory Datta observed while studying historical versions of these outfits in South Korean museums.
With the shortening length, it became impossible for women to be able to wear them comfortably. They had to resort to binding their chests, so that the jeogoris would keep their upper bodies covered. Without being explicit in its intentions, this room highlights the specific humiliation that women were expected to bear as part of their feminine responsibility. In the name of tradition, the state found ways of restricting women’s movement, and their ability to step out of their homes and navigate the public world. [1]
The next section, called “Half-Truths Our Clothes Told Us,” presents recreated posters and blueprints of houses and city dwellings from different phases of Japan and Korea’s history, placed against green and white walls. Some of the posters match advertisements from the Meiji (1868-1912), Taisho (1912 onwards) and Showa (1926-1989) periods in Japan. These emphasize the strict standards of propriety, obedience and subservience that controlled women’s lives. Others displays, pertaining to Korea, have text stitched on the posters and embroidered words from laws or listings, which reproduce old edicts around clothing dictated by authorities.
Not all of these texts have been translated to English: Datta’s intention here is not to elide or withhold information, but to emphasize the labours or difficulties involved in accessing the information. This resonates with the unfair circumstances in which these customs were imposed on lower castes and women in Korea, who had little access to education, knowledge, and an understanding of laws.
Datta’s journey with this exhibition began when they came across Chinese writer Ban Zhao’s Lessons for Women. In it, Zhao calls on women to perform duties such as “wash clothes that are dusty and soiled,” and “speak only when the time is right.” Though written centuries ago, these instructions are not so different from the femininity still expected of women today, and not just in Korea and Japan, but also in India.
For these pieces, Datta upcycled fabrics such as sarees and kimonos, donated by people from India, Pakistan and Indonesia and a few other countries. There was a careful and intentional selection of material for each piece. For example, while reconstructing the jeogoris, Datta made sure not to use any fabric sources from Japan, so as not to reproduce the violences once enacted via the garments. Rather, they partnered with the Kolkata-based Ek Tara Foundation, which offers women from marginalized backgrounds work in textiles and garment-making through the project “Ek Tara Creates.” [2] Datta credits the team of craftswomen with teaching them new techniques and styles. They believe that knowledge sharing and building is as important a part of the art-making as the final piece. This is one of the reasons why Datta moved away from the mainstream fashion industry, which shaped their initial identity and fame.
By moving more towards artistic practice, Datta is able to take time out for research and craftsmanship. They clarify: “This deliberate, slow and conscious process is mirrored in the production of works as well, foregrounding care as a connective principle across all stages of my practice including the exhibiting of work.”
The final two sections of the exhibit, “Half-Lies Our Clothes Told Us” and “Lies Our Clothes Told Us,” include a map of Edo (erstwhile Tokyo), and two architectural blueprints of living spaces. With kimonos, sarees and more fabric, Datta uses surfaces and textures to demarcate how provinces and neighbourhoods were laid out. In the blueprints, we see embroidered camellia flowers, which also pop up as a motif in other pieces of this exhibition. Amidst impositions, these symbolize Korean resistance and solidarity among the people. [3]
Datta also reimagines history or creates alternative visions. Their recreation of a hanok dwelling is based on what the space might look like if it were occupied solely by women. Even though historically, these homes were used to confine women, Datta uses them to conjure a world where they are allowed to move freely. Here, they not only have access to more indoor shared spaces with men, but also to outdoor areas and leisure activities.
The radical quality of these imagined freedoms encourages the audience to interrogate restrictions the state continues to impose on gender minorities today. It begs the question: Will people look back at our gendered bathrooms, segregated classrooms, and oppressive social and cultural norms, laws and policies and say the same things for us as we do about those in other countries and periods? Datta calls on the audience to remember that it is our collective duty to care for each other and create more inclusive spaces for marginalized groups.
Datta is particular about not being in pursuit of perfection. The end goal isnota“finished”piece;there are rough edges, stray threads, and stains on the fabric used for the recreated maps or posters. The pieces exist in service of the history they recount. By reusing material already laden with traces of the past, Datta positions storytelling as a care-oriented practice. These pieces do not wish to eliminate or elide history; rather, they make something new out of it, while acknowledging where the cloth has come from, the human hands and bodies that have made and worn it, and the cultural events it has been witness to. By immersing ourselves as viewers into a practice which prioritizes research and focus, the audience becomes a part of a collective history. We then are tasked with the responsibility of recognizing our connections to those who came before us, and how inextricable we are from the violent history that has been created and continues to unfold around us.
Vol IV: Truths, Half-Truths, Half-Lies and Lies is on at Experimenter, Colaba, from July 10 to August 20, 2025.
Mekhala Singhal is a Mumbai-based writer and artist, with a background in sociology, politics and the arts.
Notes
[1] Bc. Monika Kocovská, “How has the Women’s Traditional Korean Garment ‘Hanbok’ been Modernized in Terms of Design in Recent Years?,” Master’s Thesis, Palacký University Olomouc, 2024.
[2] https://ektara.org.in/creative-ek-tara-foundation/#ekTaraCreates
[3] Eung-Joo Yon and Min-Soo Kim, “Symbolic Design of Red Camellia from Jeju April 3rd Incident in South Korea,” International Conference of Innovation in Media and Visual Design (IMDES 2023) (Atlantis Press, 2023), 98-110.