[et_pb_section fb_built=”1″ _builder_version=”4.27.4″ _module_preset=”default” background_color=”RGBA(255,255,255,0)” global_colors_info=”{}” theme_builder_area=”post_content”][et_pb_row _builder_version=”4.27.4″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}” theme_builder_area=”post_content”][et_pb_column type=”4_4″ _builder_version=”4.27.4″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}” theme_builder_area=”post_content”][et_pb_text _builder_version=”4.27.4″ _module_preset=”default” max_width=”700px” module_alignment=”center” global_colors_info=”{}” theme_builder_area=”post_content”]<\/p>\n
Photography as a medium is often tied to the act of witness. Photographs become conduits of memory, or reminders of the places we inhabit or carry within us. While photographs are about recording that which is \u2018seen\u2019, they gesture towards the unseen, the locus and the lacuna. It is the unseen, overlooked, and\u00a0undocumented events and territories<\/u><\/a><\/span>\u00a0that unfold in the works of contemporary artist Sarker Protick, hailing from Dhaka, Bangladesh.<\/p>\n Ruminations on space and time form the kernel of the visual lyricism in\u00a0Jirno<\/em>\u00a0(\u099c\u09c0\u09b0\u09cd\u09a3) \/ Spaces of Separation. Jirno <\/em>is an ongoing photographic series by Protick, that was first exhibited as part of the larger Nirobodhi (<\/em>\u09a8\u09bf\u09b0\u09ac\u09a7\u09bf<\/i><\/em>) <\/em>\/ Till Time Stands Still <\/em>solo exhibition at the Shrine Empire Gallery, New Delhi, in 2022. It is also one of the larger frameworks in which one is drawn to situate the evolution of his work.<\/p>\n \n [\/et_pb_text][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][et_pb_row _builder_version=”4.27.4″ _module_preset=”default” width=”95%” max_width=”1600px” global_colors_info=”{}” theme_builder_area=”post_content”][et_pb_column type=”4_4″ _builder_version=”4.27.4″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}” theme_builder_area=”post_content”][et_pb_image src=”https:\/\/galleryespace.com\/artespace\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/10\/sudeshna-Fig.-1.jpg” title_text=”sudeshna-Fig.-1″ show_in_lightbox=”on” align=”center” _builder_version=”4.27.4″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}” theme_builder_area=”post_content”][\/et_pb_image][et_pb_text _builder_version=”4.27.4″ _module_preset=”0a6c4baa-304e-458e-9003-bb7edad6cc4b” hover_enabled=”0″ global_colors_info=”{}” theme_builder_area=”post_content” sticky_enabled=”0″]<\/p>\n Fig. 1 Sarker Protick, From the series Jirno (Ruins)<\/em>, Nirobodhi \/ Till Time Stands Still, Inkjet Prints, 28 x 36 inches each, set of 6, Edition 1\/5 + 1 AP, 2016 – ongoing<\/p>\n [\/et_pb_text][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][et_pb_row _builder_version=”4.27.4″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}” theme_builder_area=”post_content”][et_pb_column type=”4_4″ _builder_version=”4.27.4″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}” theme_builder_area=”post_content”][et_pb_text _builder_version=”4.27.4″ _module_preset=”default” max_width=”700px” module_alignment=”center” custom_margin=”||16px|||” locked=”off” global_colors_info=”{}” theme_builder_area=”post_content”]<\/p>\n The dream-like, long exposure, black and white compositions, revealing architectural ruins of abandoned feudal estates, belonged to Hindu landlords in East Bengal. When Bengal was divided along religious lines, after independence from British rule, this minority aristocratic class migrated from what was then East Pakistan to West Bengal, India. The thick foliage in the photographs thrusts out of the cracks of the disintegrating walls and takes over the tombs, mansions, and havelis<\/em>. There is a sense of slow subversion of the aesthetics fostered by the imperial gaze. The meditative mood in these images of ruins and relics invites nuance, not nostalgia.<\/p>\n The images anchor the viewer, not through a single \u201cdecisive moment\u201d but through their sequentiality – a mode attuned to holding space for absences, erasures, and silences that linger beyond colonial legacies. The Partition of the Bengal region in 1947, in the aftermath of the fall of the British Empire, has faded from public memory in Bangladesh<\/u><\/a><\/span>, whose creation during the Liberation War of 1971 left deeper scars. Today, the young nation stands on the brink of a new era, in the aftermath of a youth uprising, where more than a thousand youth protestors died in extra-judicial killings. In light of these recent events, the photographs take on a different meaning, one where the only thing constant throughout the passage of time is the shifting dynamics of power and the persistence of nature, manifesting with an Ozymandian hubris.<\/p>\n [\/et_pb_text][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][et_pb_row _builder_version=”4.27.4″ _module_preset=”default” custom_padding=”3px|||||” global_colors_info=”{}” theme_builder_area=”post_content”][et_pb_column type=”4_4″ _builder_version=”4.27.4″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}” theme_builder_area=”post_content”][et_pb_image src=”https:\/\/galleryespace.com\/artespace\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/10\/sudeshna-Fig.-2.jpg” title_text=”sudeshna-Fig.-2″ show_in_lightbox=”on” _builder_version=”4.27.4″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}” theme_builder_area=”post_content”][\/et_pb_image][et_pb_text _builder_version=”4.27.4″ _module_preset=”0a6c4baa-304e-458e-9003-bb7edad6cc4b” hover_enabled=”0″ global_colors_info=”{}” theme_builder_area=”post_content” sticky_enabled=”0″]<\/p>\n Fig. 2 Sarker Protick, From the series Jirno (Ruins)<\/em>, Nirobodhi \/ Till Time Stands Still, Inkjet Prints, 28 x 36 inches each, set of 6, Edition 1\/5 + 1 AP, 2016 – ongoing<\/p>\n [\/et_pb_text][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][et_pb_row _builder_version=”4.27.4″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}” theme_builder_area=”post_content”][et_pb_column type=”4_4″ _builder_version=”4.27.4″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}” theme_builder_area=”post_content”][et_pb_text _builder_version=”4.27.4″ _module_preset=”default” max_width=”700px” module_alignment=”center” global_colors_info=”{}” theme_builder_area=”post_content”]<\/p>\n The \u201cpicturesque\u201d quality of the image of the disintegrating edifice of a \u201csamadhi\u201d or tomb of a Hindu Zamindar\u2019s wife in Gopalganj, Bangladesh, reminds me of British photographer Samuel Bourne\u2019s surveying pictorial vocabulary and its attempts to lay claim to foreign landscapes. In his images of antiquated architectural ruins in India, Bourne created a fantasy of India\u2014an unfamiliar land which had the potential to be civilised, controlled, and consumed since the colony was a place stuck in time, whose glories were a thing of the past. \u00a0<\/p>\n This inherent metafictionality in Protick\u2019s engagement with photography is especially prominent in Mr and Mrs Das (<\/em>\u099c\u09a8<\/i><\/em>\u00a0<\/em>\u0993<\/i><\/em>\u00a0<\/em>\u09aa\u09cd\u09b0\u09ad\u09be\u09b0<\/i><\/em>\u00a0<\/em>\u0997\u09b2\u09cd\u09aa<\/i><\/em>)<\/em>, a story about his grandparents, where images of photographs hanging on a wall, displayed on a table, or stamped on identity cards become an integral part of a personal narrative tracing family history. This aspect of his work, where even single photographs hold multiple meanings, evokes what Edward Said called \u201ccontrapuntal\u201d interpretation, a reference to music where multiple melodies co-exist independently- a fitting analogy, given Protick\u2019s initial foray into music before turning to photography. Protick is commenting on the very act of image-making through his images.<\/p>\n \n [\/et_pb_text][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][et_pb_row _builder_version=”4.27.4″ _module_preset=”default” width=”100%” max_width=”1735px” module_alignment=”center” global_colors_info=”{}” theme_builder_area=”post_content”][et_pb_column type=”4_4″ _builder_version=”4.27.4″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}” theme_builder_area=”post_content”][et_pb_image src=”https:\/\/galleryespace.com\/artespace\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/10\/sudeshna-Fig.-3.jpg” title_text=”sudeshna-Fig.-3″ show_in_lightbox=”on” align=”center” _builder_version=”4.27.4″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}” theme_builder_area=”post_content”][\/et_pb_image][et_pb_text _builder_version=”4.27.4″ _module_preset=”0a6c4baa-304e-458e-9003-bb7edad6cc4b” hover_enabled=”0″ global_colors_info=”{}” theme_builder_area=”post_content” sticky_enabled=”0″]<\/p>\n Fig. 3 Sarker Protick, Mr and Mrs Das,<\/em>\u00a0Nirobodhi \/ Till Time Stands Still, Installation view, Shrine Empire Gallery, New Delhi, 2022<\/p>\n [\/et_pb_text][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][et_pb_row _builder_version=”4.27.4″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}” theme_builder_area=”post_content”][et_pb_column type=”4_4″ _builder_version=”4.27.4″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}” theme_builder_area=”post_content”][et_pb_text _builder_version=”4.27.4″ _module_preset=”default” max_width=”700px” module_alignment=”center” global_colors_info=”{}” theme_builder_area=”post_content”]<\/p>\n In 2024, Protick won the \u2018After Nature. Ulrike Crespo Photography Prize\u2019 for his research-based photography project Awngar.<\/em>\u00a0The title refers to the burning embers of coal and investigates the fault lines in a society that revolves around a fossil fuel economy. It was his exploration of the connection between the expansion of the railways in British India and its role in the setting up of the coal industry that began in the nineteenth century that led me to his work.<\/p>\n I met Protick a year ago, when he was in my hometown, Dhanbad, for a short visit to photograph its coal mines. It was an interesting introduction to a photographer\u2019s work through a peek into their practice. I was fascinated with not only the themes that he explores through photography but the continuing engagement in his work, quite akin to riy\u0101z<\/em>, another connection with his musical background.<\/p>\n \n [\/et_pb_text][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][et_pb_row _builder_version=”4.27.4″ _module_preset=”default” width=”95%” max_width=”1600px” global_colors_info=”{}” theme_builder_area=”post_content”][et_pb_column type=”4_4″ _builder_version=”4.27.4″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}” theme_builder_area=”post_content”][et_pb_image src=”https:\/\/galleryespace.com\/artespace\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/10\/sudeshna-Fig.-4.jpg” title_text=”sudeshna-Fig.-4″ show_in_lightbox=”on” align=”center” _builder_version=”4.27.4″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}” theme_builder_area=”post_content”][\/et_pb_image][et_pb_text _builder_version=”4.27.4″ _module_preset=”0a6c4baa-304e-458e-9003-bb7edad6cc4b” text_font=”Josefin Sans||||||||” text_line_height=”1.6em” hover_enabled=”0″ global_colors_info=”{}” theme_builder_area=”post_content” sticky_enabled=”0″]<\/p>\n Fig. 4 Sarker Protick, Awngar<\/em>. Installation view, C\/O Berlin, After Nature Ulrike Crespo Photography Prize 2024<\/p>\n [\/et_pb_text][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][et_pb_row _builder_version=”4.27.4″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}” theme_builder_area=”post_content”][et_pb_column type=”4_4″ _builder_version=”4.27.4″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}” theme_builder_area=”post_content”][et_pb_text _builder_version=”4.27.4″ _module_preset=”default” max_width=”700px” module_alignment=”center” global_colors_info=”{}” theme_builder_area=”post_content”]<\/p>\n In the text accompanying the publication produced as part of the project, Sria Chatterjee situates the photographs of one of India\u2019s oldest mines, Narayankuri in the Raniganj coalfield, \u201cProtick\u2019s Narayankuri photographs run the risk of aestheticising an extractive sublime, but the research-led thoroughness of the project makes visible the material conditions that undergird the histories of resource extraction, production, consumption, and markets.\u201d<\/p>\n While the visual narrative in Awngar <\/em>explores the history of mining in the larger Bengal region, it does away with the usual tropes of hyper-sensationalising the suffering of mining communities or framing them in a way that reduces them to just labouring bodies. Instead, there are only two human figures in Awngar<\/em>, more precisely\u00a0<\/em>two female figures. One, a wide-angle shot of an expansive landscape, engulfing a minuscule saree-clad frame. The picturesque aesthetic is the most prominent here, in its use of the human figure to offer a sense of scale, much like Bourne\u2019s photographs.<\/p>\n [\/et_pb_text][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][et_pb_row _builder_version=”4.27.4″ _module_preset=”default” width=”95%” max_width=”1600px” global_colors_info=”{}” theme_builder_area=”post_content”][et_pb_column type=”4_4″ _builder_version=”4.27.4″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}” theme_builder_area=”post_content”][et_pb_image src=”https:\/\/galleryespace.com\/artespace\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/10\/sudeshna-Fig.-5.jpg” title_text=”sudeshna-Fig.-5″ show_in_lightbox=”on” align=”center” _builder_version=”4.27.4″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}” theme_builder_area=”post_content”][\/et_pb_image][et_pb_text _builder_version=”4.27.4″ _module_preset=”0a6c4baa-304e-458e-9003-bb7edad6cc4b” text_font=”Josefin Sans||||||||” text_line_height=”1.6em” hover_enabled=”0″ locked=”off” global_colors_info=”{}” theme_builder_area=”post_content” sticky_enabled=”0″]<\/p>\n Fig. 5 Sarker Protick, From the series Awngar<\/em>, C\/O Berlin, After Nature Ulrike Crespo Photography Prize 2024<\/p>\n [\/et_pb_text][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][et_pb_row _builder_version=”4.27.4″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}” theme_builder_area=”post_content”][et_pb_column type=”4_4″ _builder_version=”4.27.4″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}” theme_builder_area=”post_content”][et_pb_text _builder_version=”4.27.4″ _module_preset=”default” max_width=”700px” module_alignment=”center” global_colors_info=”{}” theme_builder_area=”post_content”]<\/p>\n It is the other photograph, of a girl standing by the railway tracks in small-town West Bengal, with alta <\/em>or the traditional red tint on her feet. It became what Barthes called the \u201cpunctum\u201d, or the incidental detail of a photograph that pierces the subjective and private perception of a viewer. It had me transfixed. I could almost feel myself slipping beside her, waiting for a train like I had a million times before all my life. And thus, the work of an artist from the other side of the border suddenly spoke to me in a way that laid bare the absurdity of our hyper-nationalist zeitgeist.<\/p>\n \n [\/et_pb_text][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][et_pb_row _builder_version=”4.27.4″ _module_preset=”default” width=”95%” max_width=”1600px” global_colors_info=”{}” theme_builder_area=”post_content”][et_pb_column type=”4_4″ _builder_version=”4.27.4″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}” theme_builder_area=”post_content”][et_pb_image src=”https:\/\/galleryespace.com\/artespace\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/10\/sudeshna-Fig.-6.jpg” title_text=”sudeshna-Fig.-6″ show_in_lightbox=”on” align=”center” _builder_version=”4.27.4″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}” theme_builder_area=”post_content”][\/et_pb_image][et_pb_text _builder_version=”4.27.4″ _module_preset=”0a6c4baa-304e-458e-9003-bb7edad6cc4b” hover_enabled=”0″ global_colors_info=”{}” theme_builder_area=”post_content” sticky_enabled=”0″]<\/p>\n Fig. 6 Sarker Protick, Girl standing by a railway crossing (Santragachi, West Bengal, India, 2023), Print on archival paper, 16 x 20 inches, Edition of 5 + 2 AP, 2023<\/p>\n [\/et_pb_text][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][et_pb_row _builder_version=”4.27.4″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}” theme_builder_area=”post_content”][et_pb_column type=”4_4″ _builder_version=”4.27.4″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}” theme_builder_area=”post_content”][et_pb_text _builder_version=”4.27.4″ _module_preset=”default” max_width=”700px” module_alignment=”center” global_colors_info=”{}” theme_builder_area=”post_content”]<\/p>\n We returned to the question of \u2018time\u2019 and \u2018space\u2019, as we chatted over a phone call recently. I asked him how time became a part of his process. Protick replied, \u201cFrom the very beginning, I was partial to long-form works. In the works or stories that I felt strongly about, time always played an important role\u2026 I believe, there is a different kind of impact produced by long-term projects.\u201d He describes his relationship with a topic, or \u201cbishoy\u201d<\/em>\u00a0as he called it (we spoke in Bangla), in the way one feels an attachment with their cat, friend or a family member. \u201cSansar korar moton,\u201d he explains, which can be translated as \u201cmanaging a household.\u201d In Bangla, the word \u201csansar\u201d refers to both the universal and the domestic.<\/p>\n The influence of Bangla language and literature in his work is also another facet that speaks to this moment in time. During our visit to the Bastacola mines in Dhanbad, Protick recalled reading the memoir of a friend\u2019s relative, Akash Patal<\/em>\u00a0Jol Jangal<\/em>\u00a0by\u00a0<\/em>Birendranath Mukhopadhyay, a Mines Safety Officer who worked in Amlabad colliery, located in the Eastern Jharia Area of BCCL, a subsidiary of Coal India Ltd, during the 1950s. As I heard him narrate a spine-chilling incident, where Mukherjee had to wander around the underground mine a whole night to locate the body of a miner who died in a deadly accident, so that his family could claim compensation, I wondered about the paucity of such first-person narratives, foregrounding the complex industrial heritage of the region. Protick says that the book has a latent influence on his work.<\/p>\n In India, a crackdown on Bengali citizens<\/u><\/a><\/span>, especially the targeting of migrants and Muslims, has weaponised hate to threaten the lives of a people whose stake in a homeland is dictated by barbed borders and bigoted bureaucracy. At the same time, India is sheltering the ousted former Prime Minister, Sheikh Hasina<\/u><\/a><\/span>, allegedly accused of siphoning billions from Bangladesh<\/u><\/a><\/span>. The recent political tensions between the two countries have also led to the termination of the collaboration<\/u><\/a><\/span>\u00a0agreement by the National Institute of Design, Ahmedabad, severing ties with the Pathshala South Asian Media Institute, Dhaka, where Protick has studied and now teaches.<\/p>\n When asked how these hostilities would affect cross-border creative works like Awngar, <\/em>Protick observed that they are not only making things difficult for artists (citing his own experience in securing a visa), but also having a detrimental effect on the economy, impeding medical visits, business trips, and tourism. \u00a0\u00a0<\/p>\n \n [\/et_pb_text][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][et_pb_row _builder_version=”4.27.4″ _module_preset=”default” width=”95%” max_width=”1600px” global_colors_info=”{}” theme_builder_area=”post_content”][et_pb_column type=”4_4″ _builder_version=”4.27.4″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}” theme_builder_area=”post_content”][et_pb_image src=”https:\/\/galleryespace.com\/artespace\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/10\/sudeshna-Fig.-7.jpg” title_text=”sudeshna-Fig.-7″ show_in_lightbox=”on” align=”center” _builder_version=”4.27.4″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}” theme_builder_area=”post_content”][\/et_pb_image][et_pb_text _builder_version=”4.27.4″ _module_preset=”0a6c4baa-304e-458e-9003-bb7edad6cc4b” hover_enabled=”0″ global_colors_info=”{}” theme_builder_area=”post_content” sticky_enabled=”0″]<\/p>\n Fig. 7 Sarker Protick, From the series Akash Kalo Megh, <\/em>Murder, Lightbox, 40 x 30 inches, Edition of 5 + 2 AP, 2020 – 2021<\/p>\n [\/et_pb_text][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][et_pb_row _builder_version=”4.27.4″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}” theme_builder_area=”post_content”][et_pb_column type=”4_4″ _builder_version=”4.27.4″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}” theme_builder_area=”post_content”][et_pb_text _builder_version=”4.27.4″ _module_preset=”default” max_width=”700px” module_alignment=”center” global_colors_info=”{}” theme_builder_area=”post_content”]<\/p>\n In his latest work, Akash Kalo Megh<\/em>\u00a0(Shadows in the Sky)<\/em>, Protick\u2019s camera zooms into a single place, the locality where he has spent his entire life. Close-up silhouettes of crows, whom Protick calls \u201cthe iconic birds of Dhaka,\u201d while reminiscent of Masahisa Fukase\u2019s Solitude of Ravens, <\/em>here, invoke sentient creatures surviving amidst the high-rises in the concrete jungle of the city. His<\/em>\u00a0wife, Sara, makes a few appearances, or as Protick candidly calls it, \u201cher cameos.\u201d During our conversations, Protick spoke about photographing his mother, Bina, as an attempt to document the life after retirement for an ageing single woman on her own, in a city like Dhaka, which is not often talked about.<\/p>\n We live in a time, inundated with images, livestreamed from war-torn lands or deep fields of distant galaxies. The capitalist machinery has infiltrated how we envision time. We spend<\/em>, invest, <\/em>and save <\/em>time. Time is currency, in an economic structure that has alienated labour and leisure into commodities, entangling individuals and institutions into a system that knows only one master, the logic of the market. Our waterways, landscapes, and fleeting human lives are enmeshed in these supra-systems of power. Sarker Protick\u2019s photographic practice is situated within these realities while weaving in the elemental forces of nature and the anthropocentric hubris of civilisations. The lens, in his hands, becomes a tool to look back at the rise and fall of regimes and empires, or an aging couple in the confines of a single apartment\u2014a bridge between the everyday and the eternal.<\/p>\n \n [\/et_pb_text][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][\/et_pb_section]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Photography as a medium is often tied to the act of witness. Photographs become conduits of memory, or reminders of the places we inhabit or carry within us. While photographs are about recording that which is \u2018seen\u2019, they gesture towards the unseen, the locus and the lacuna. It is the unseen, overlooked, and\u00a0undocumented events and […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":14,"featured_media":476,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"on","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","_FSMCFIC_featured_image_caption":"","_FSMCFIC_featured_image_nocaption":"","_FSMCFIC_featured_image_hide":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[4],"tags":[3],"class_list":["post-471","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-articles","tag-current-edition"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/galleryespace.com\/artespace\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/471","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/galleryespace.com\/artespace\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/galleryespace.com\/artespace\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/galleryespace.com\/artespace\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/14"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/galleryespace.com\/artespace\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=471"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/galleryespace.com\/artespace\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/471\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":484,"href":"https:\/\/galleryespace.com\/artespace\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/471\/revisions\/484"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/galleryespace.com\/artespace\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/476"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/galleryespace.com\/artespace\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=471"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/galleryespace.com\/artespace\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=471"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/galleryespace.com\/artespace\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=471"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}