A low-lit room holding a dozen iron bed frames where, instead of mattresses, shoe soles are placed reverentially - and, literally, captivatingly - between a mesh. On first glance, the space looks like a memory of a tragedy, a grim memorial. But all context being stripped, it could be remains of a hospital ward, a prison camp, an army mess.... The soles and the bed frames and the room are all Sundaram says. '12 Bed Ward' shows why Sundaram was no mere artist but an experiencist.