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Objects in this picture are louder than they appear

Objects in this picture are louder than they appear

This piece was originally published in The Nod. Cover photo: Abner Fernandes. Courtesy: Experimenter, Mumbai.

A few days before her solo exhibition, Karvat, opens at Experimenter Gallery in Mumbai, Bhasha Chakrabarti, in a neon-green handwoven cotton sari, complemented by white boots and pigtail braids, is adding the finishing touches to one of her paintings. A body memoirist and an orchestrator of emotions through her art, Bhasha Chakrabarti’s works often have a raw, visceral effect on the viewers. 

The inspiration for Karvat comes from Ismat Chughtai’s seminal story Lihaaf, which explores female desire, pleasure, comfort, and longing through the metaphor of a quilt. Chakrabarti leads me into a gallery room, whose walls and ground have been painted red. The room is an imagined interpretation of Begum Jaan’s zenana in Lihaaf. “This is the heart of the exhibition,” she says as my eyes scan the room. Ten standalone antique furniture pieces – a lamp, a side table, a wall-mounted grandfather clock, to name a few – appear unassuming and quiet, as though safeguarding a collective secret. However, when Chakrabarti leans towards a chest of drawers and slides open a compartment, a raga elegantly spills into the room. Through the performance of opening a vanity door, tugging a lamp’s chain-switch or unfolding a chair, the pieces transform into music boxes. Chakrabarti’s long-time friend, Hania Luthufi, a Hindustani classical musician, sang and composed the sonic landscape for each piece, incorporating non-traditional instruments like the hurdy-gurdy.

‘Ajaibghar (Devagandhar)’, Bhasha Chakrabarti. Courtesy: Experimenter, Mumbai.

Called the Ajaibghar series, it cleverly gestures towards the anatomy of ragamala paintings. While the furniture’s façade is painted red with golden borders, their interiors vividly depict the shifting moods, seasons and colours of the sky (from cyan to indigo). The paintings also feature nayikas, who embody different emotional states. Whether it’s Ajaibghar (Devagandhar) which reveals the pensive chin of a woman resting on her knee, waiting for her lover; or Ajaibghar (Kakubha), depicting a woman’s slender wrist clutching a garland of flowers – Chakrabarti’s paintings exude sensuousness and longing, offering fleeting glimpses of the nayika – or, the forlorn Begum. “Each of these pieces is presented as a ragamala manuscript folio. The outside of the furniture serves as a border, while the inside is the painting,” she explains. On another level, “these objects explore the dailiness of the domestic.”

 In the series, there is a suggestive play of conceal and reveal. The viewer assumes the trifold role of the voyeur, lover and performer, where the musical sculptures when opened individually, in pairs, or as a group, invite the viewer to step into the role of an orchestra conductor.

‘Karvat/The Turn (Night)’, 2024, Bhasha Chakrabarti. Courtesy: Experimenter, Mumbai.

“Hania has modelled for all the nayika’s gestures,” Chakrabarti informs, when I curiously point to a tattoo gracing the nayika’s ankle in Ajaibghar (Meghamalhar). “If there are two bodies together, it’s her and me. If it’s one, then it’s just her.” This is something central to Chakrabarti’s work, where her friends, family and herself, predominantly feature as her subjects.

Chakrabarti is a body memoirist who orchestrates emotions through her art. Photo: Experimenter, Mumbai.

Born in Hawaii to philosopher parents, the 33-year-old artist has lived in multiple geographical milieus, including New York and New Haven. Although she appreciated the arts growing up, she often viewed it as something distant and “museum-ized.” However, Chakrabarti’s career took a pivotal turn when she attended exhibitions featuring thought-provoking works by artists like Carrie Mae Weems and Kara Walker that made room for political discourse. “Their art resonated with me, and I realized that this is the kind of work I wanted to create,” she recalls.

Two months later, in 2014, she quit her job and shipped herself off to Kala Bhavana in Shantiniketan to become an artist. It was a bold decision, but it reflects the unwavering intuition with which Chakrabarti operates.
Her work emerges from deep contemplation. A quilt-maker and painter, in her decade-long practice, she has been drawn to the tactile nature of textile, how it simultaneously conceals and reveals, and the sensory experiences of touch and memories it evokes. Whether it’s the quilted works of Genealogy (Old & New), painted blankets in the twin self-portraits titled Soft Firmament (Dawn) & (Dusk), or the imagined bodily landscapes of lovers hidden under tangible, stitched quilts in Karvat (Morning) and Karvat (Night) – textile anchors her oeuvre.

 The clothing she uses in her work is pre-possessed, belonging to old lovers, friends and family. “I’m a hoarder!” Chakrabarti confesses, slipping into laughter. “I’m really sentimental about things; I take clothes from lovers all the time and use them in my work. I think a lot about representing bodies through material. Clothes are like talismans, and I try to include a physical piece of clothing of the person I’m painting – I like that residue of the body.”

‘Ajaibghar (Hindol)’, 2024, Bhasha Chakrabarti. Courtesy: Experimenter, Mumbai.

Her work is rooted in themes of gender, identity, power, inequity and ‘othering’ in various spheres. “In fact, I have often thought about the ways in which classical disciplines have traditionally excluded certain groups of people, especially people like me, based on religion, queerness or caste,” she says.

Chakrabarti points out that despite certain frustrations and pessimism inherent in the art world as well, she remains optimistic about the power of art. “Art is something that everyone can look at, engage with, and have a legitimate opinion about. To me, the best work is the kind that allows people to explore it from multiple entry points and have a conversation about it together.” It aligns with her intention of encouraging dialogue through her artwork as well. 

‘Karvat’ is on view from October 26 to December 20 at Experimenter Colaba, Mumbai.

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