Interview with Steevez, featuring 180 Frames from Kulasai
Author: Rakshita Sanan
The Kulasai Dasara, or Dusshera celebrated in the village of Kulasekarapattinam in Tamil Nadu, India, is a visceral, closely held ritual of devotion for the people. It is a time for gathering and affirming community through performance. Yet, in recent years, a parallel ritual has emerged, one not of devotion, but of spectacle and extraction. As a multitude of photographers descend briefly upon the festival, forming a “digital swarm,” as noted by photographer and artist Steevez, circling costumed villagers to capture the repeated gestures in the best light. In this barrage of lenses, the lived meanings of the festival risk being flattened into consumable imagery.
Ultimately, this “ritual of extraction” serves as a mirror rather than a window. By shifting the focus from divine performance to the digital hunt, Steevez reminds us that the act of seeing is never neutral, it is an intervention. In a world where we are increasingly obsessed with the “archive” of our experiences, this project challenges us to consider what is lost when a sacred moment is reduced to a glossy image.
As the dust settles on the Soorasamharam and the “digital swarm” retreats to process the thousands of frames they managed to capture, the quiet, intentional discipline of the limited roll remains. 180 Frames of Kulasai is a call to return, to become a more meditative form of witness: one that respects the boundary between the devotee and the lens, and acknowledges that some rituals are meant to be felt, not just captured.
We, at Purée Mag, sat down with Steevez, the architect of the photographic project 180 Frames from Kulasai, to discuss how this influx of outsiders is reshaping the spiritual landscape of the Soorasamharam. The interview follows.
Rakshita Sanan (RS): You speak of “extraction.” How does this “digital swarm” change the energy of the Soorasamharam for the devotee?
Steevez (S): It’s fundamentally about power. Entering a sacred space with a camera often grants an ‘all-access’ position that can strip the subjects of their agency. While the Kulasekarapattinam Dasara is a unique, locally rooted celebration, the recent influx of photographers, drawn by the intense visuals being created, has shifted the focus. I performed a deliberate counter-act: I began flashing my own light back at the photographers in the crowd, turning the gaze onto the observers and disrupting the cycle of extraction.
RS: By becoming a “photographer of the photographers,” did you recognize your own identity within that space? How did you navigate being perceived as just another part of the digital swarm?
S: I absolutely did. In fact, the very first frame I shot for this project was of myself. There is no attempt to hide behind the lens or pretend to be an invisible observer; I am very much present in this piece. I recognize that by the simple act of holding a camera, I am inherently part of that digital swarm. By documenting the documenters, I’m not just pointing a finger, I’m placing myself inside the frame of the critique, acknowledging my own role in this performance of extraction.
RS: Why was the choice to shoot on film a deliberate act of “resistance” in such a high-energy, digital-heavy environment?
S: It came down to the slowness of the process and the discipline of scarcity. In an environment where the ‘digital swarm’ can fire off thousands of frames without a second thought, I arrived with a very defined limit: five rolls of film, 36 frames each, to cover three full days. When each click of the shutter carries a literal cost and there is zero leeway for error, the entire psychological approach changes.
Film imposes a set of well-defined rules. There is a mandatory pause before the shutter clicks a moment of where you ask yourself, “Are you sure?” I even used a panoramic camera that captures only two frames per shot, further tightening those restrictions. For me, these technical constraints were a form of resistance; they forced me to step out of the frenzied ‘capture’ mentality and return to a more meditative, intentional way of seeing. It wasn’t about the quantity of the archive, but the weight of the frame.
Sukanya Deb (SD): Your frames are dominated by masculine bodies. Was the decision to focus on the male form a deliberate choice, or a reflection of the power dynamics on the ground?
S: It wasn’t a lack of female presence, I observed women throughout the festival but they weren’t at the forefront of the ‘spectacle.’ The energy at Kulasekarapattinam is hyper-masculine; there’s an aggressive, ‘in-your-face’ approach from the men that commands the space. As a photographer, I realized that ‘access’ itself felt like a masculine privilege.
This wasn’t a conscious editorial choice from the start. Having never been there before, I didn’t know at the time that even those dressed as the Goddess Kali were all men. The realization only hit me afterward that not only is the digital swarm a masculine one, it was circling male performers who were channeling the Goddess.
There was one telling moment where a woman approached me and asked why I was taking a picture of a drone instead of the ritual. I didn’t have a profound answer; I just said, ‘No reason.’ But looking back, that interaction highlighted the disconnect. The men are there to perform and be captured; the women are often just navigating the edges of that performance.
About the Artist:
Steevez is a visual artist and curator based in Chennai. He holds a B.Sc. in Visual Communication from Loyola College, Chennai, and has completed advanced photography studies from Speos Institute, Paris, and Pathshala Media Institute, Dhaka. His artistic practice focuses on personal, social, and environmental narratives. Steevez has curated exhibitions such as the World Refugee Day Exhibition and Nitham ’22 and ’23.
About the Author:
Rakshita Sanan is a writer and University of Delhi literature postgraduate. Specializing in speculative fiction. When not navigating fictional futures, she is likely found untangling a new crochet project, documenting life’s smaller shifts on her Substack, or experimenting with the slow chemistry of a new recipe.
All images courtesy of the artist.