Smriti Dixit’s works of art may easily be termed as a “celebration of life”. Every piece of her art is invested with the presence of the divine and the Bopal-born artist affirms the pantheistic bhakti vision of the sacredness of all lives. Stating that her process of work itself constitutes her art, she explains, “My work originates from the crafts and spiritual ceremonies of India. Craft is related to our routine, and spiritual ceremonies are other-wordly. It is in this way that my soul is connected with my work and the soul of my work is connected with the soul of the world.”
Smriti also notes it is not just her work; it is part of a tradition. ‘‘Therefore, in spite of 34 crore Gods, we are creating new ones now — therefore trees, water, stones, beetle nuts, paan, cows, cow-dung, grass, elephants, mice, serpents, vultures, eagles are all icons of Godhead. Even the roadside electricity box maybe embellished with vermillion and what we have is another God: It is our business to create Gods, and theirs to create us and it is in this process that there is completion. Just as rituals made it conducive for me to travel on my spiritual journey, so too the process of my work — the stitching, ripping, knitting, painting — becomes a crucial part of my work. I would like to emphasise, therefore, that my process itself is the work.”
Smriti prepares her palette not by neatly laying out tubes of colour but by shopping for cloth in a variety of colours and textures; by stitching triangular silk and cotton sacs and gauze pouches, and filling them with sponge. Some materials are thick, others light, some absorb light, others reflect it; some are stiff, others hang loose and can be shaped at will. Without a touch of self-consciousness, Smriti says: “Cloth uses me, I don’t use it.”
The artist sticks or stitches her arrangements on a canvas surface, setting it in patterns that both mimic and rupture the grid. For
instance, she may arrange an array of triangular sacs in horizontal rows. They follow a straight line up to a point, toppling unexpectedly. The gesture of toppling subverts the symbolism of the triangle. Or then one of the translucent pouches may be clouded by a stain — a harbinger of darkness. There is no tucking or trimming of any rupture to the fabric. The artist does not conceal the scars of creation; the stitches on the cloth pieces are proudly displayed. The rogue red thread is allowed to hang untamed in a white work, the knots remain undissolved. The work is like a dress turned inside out, holding the crushed and crumpled contours of the body that inhabits it.
Smriti’s practice emerges from a full-bodied and sensuous abstraction that extends itself into a variety of mediums and genres — paintings, ceramics, sculptures, assemblages and installations. She experiments constantly with materials and vocabulary, and has the courage to confront a grand failure rather than producing works that take shelter behind the safe cordon of mediocrity.
Though Smriti learnt classical vocal music and has a graduation from the MS University, Baroda, her education began long before she left Bhopal. At Bhopal, her father played the tabla and they spent many evenings listening to Hindustani music. At the Bharat Bhavan, Bhopal, she was influenced by J Swaminathan’s concept that broke down the distinction between privileged art and dismissed craft for a whole generation of artists.
After passing out from Baroda, she experimented with various materials like ceramic and when she came to Mumbai to work with an interior designer, surprised everyone with another detour. She glued white and black
paper together, tearing the surface in some places to reveal the layers underneath. After much meditation on the act of tearing from which grew some splendid landscapes, she though she had exhausted the possibilities of this project and went forward to create miniature shrines made from cloth pieces stitched together. Gradually she began to evolve a palette of stuffed cloth pieces, which remains her current preoccupation.
Smriti’s recent works are soaked in a Vaishnavite sensibility — the saffron, russet, red and black palette could simply be the winter and summer (or spring) shringara of Shrinathji, the form of Krishna who presides over the temple of Nathdvara and is dressed in costumes that change with the seasons and times of the day. Smriti, born in 1971, had many group exhibitions in India and two major
exhibitions in the US. She is considered to be an extremely talented and innovative artist in whom lies tremendous possibilities for the growth of Indian contemporary art.