The Intertwining

“In contemplating matters of desire, it is useful to remember that reciprocity does not beget an arithmetic function, rather it ignites an exponential one. One notices such a generative, almost-erotic, dialogue between Bhasha Chakrabarti and the surfaces she serenades in her studio. They respond to each tender caress, each firm stroke to co-produce the lush poetry and the visceral density that emanates from her paintings.

The artist describes her process as placing equal importance on the visual content of painting, the performativity of the act of painting, and the materiality of the cloth on which paintings are made. Her work starts much before the first dab of paint is applied, carefully choosing the weave of the fabric to match the character of the subjects upon it. This is visible most prominently in The Intertwining I & II (2022) where the warp and weft of the raw jute echo the unbridled emotion of the duos in embrace. Bhasha goes on to arduously stretch the fabric over a self-assembled frame before applying layers of protective gesso. The process has the artist performing a series of acrobatic gestures, fingers, limbs, and torso pulling and clutching, each playing a role in transforming parts into an eager whole.

For her first solo at Experimenter, and in India, Bhasha takes her practice a step further. The solitary subjects that have been the focus of her previous figurative works are now entangled in reciprocal intimacy. A research turn inspired by poetic references by Audre Lorde, Naomi Shihab Nye, Ogden Nash, and others — available to read in the upper room of the gallery — alongside Merleau-Ponty’s ontology of flesh. Within the oil paintings on view here, the artist is deeply interested in the edges of the body, in the exploration of skin as the medium through which we know the world around us (and thus ourselves), as well as the gestures enacted by wrists, fingers, calves, and feet in moments of affection. Almost all the vignettes are drawn from the artist’s own intimate relationships, predominantly from live sitting sessions. This auto-narrative style is subtly infused with historical references, such as the tension between fingers and limb from Gian Lorenzo Bernini’s sculpture The Rape of Proserpina (1622).”