a change is just around the corner

///--->>>rethinking art, contemporaneity and (my)self

Works and Curations

Monday, August 31, 2026

Book Review : For the Love of Printmaking


 

From Studio to Archive: Reading For the Love of Printmaking

The publication of For the Love of Printmaking arrives at an important moment in the evolving discourse surrounding Indian printmaking. Over the past few decades, the medium has witnessed renewed artistic experimentation, growing institutional support, the emergence of independent studios, and an increasingly international community of practitioners. Yet despite this activity, serious writing on contemporary Indian printmaking has remained comparatively limited. Exhibition catalogues have documented artists, technical manuals have explained processes, and historical studies have traced important lineages, but publications capable of bringing together the multiple worlds that constitute contemporary printmaking remain relatively uncommon. For the Love of Printmaking occupies this space precisely.

Published to commemorate the tenth anniversary of the International Print Exchange Programme (IPEP) India, the volume emerges from the online international symposium organised in 2023 under the same title. At first glance, it appears to follow the familiar format of conference proceedings, bringing together papers presented during the symposium. A closer reading, however, reveals a considerably more ambitious editorial project. Rather than merely preserving presentations delivered over three days, the publication constructs a broad intellectual landscape within which contemporary printmaking may be understood through its histories, pedagogies, material practices, institutional structures, ecological concerns and collaborative networks. It is less a record of an event than an attempt to document the ecosystem that sustains the medium.

This distinction becomes increasingly significant as one progresses through the volume. The contributors do not write from a single disciplinary position. Artists, educators, curators, historians, researchers, studio founders and cultural practitioners all appear alongside one another, each bringing a different understanding of what printmaking might mean. Their biographies, carefully included within the publication, are not incidental additions but an important editorial gesture. They encourage the reader to approach each essay through the lived experience of its author rather than expecting uniform academic writing. Some contributors write from decades of studio practice, others from institutional leadership, historical research, environmental advocacy or pedagogical experimentation. The diversity of voices becomes one of the publication's defining characteristics.

This plurality also invites a different mode of reading. Evaluating every contribution according to conventional academic criteria alone would overlook the editors' broader intention. Many of the essays are not attempting to produce exhaustive theoretical arguments. They document practices, record institutional memory, reflect upon artistic processes, map regional histories, or articulate questions emerging directly from the studio. Read collectively, these contributions begin to resemble a shared archive of contemporary printmaking rather than a conventional anthology of scholarly papers.

This shift from individual scholarship towards collective documentation marks one of the publication's most important achievements. Art history has often privileged finished artworks over the infrastructures that enable them. Studios, workshops, teaching practices, collaborative exchanges, material experimentation, exhibition-making and institutional labour frequently remain peripheral to historical narratives. For the Love of Printmaking quietly redirects attention towards these less visible dimensions of artistic practice. Throughout the volume, the printed image remains important, yet equal attention is given to the communities, relationships and systems that make the production of those images possible.

The publication therefore asks readers to think beyond the print as an isolated object. Instead, printmaking emerges as a field of relationships between artists and educators, institutions and independent studios, local histories and international exchanges, traditional processes and technological innovation, environmental responsibility and material experimentation. It is within these intersections that the book finds its greatest intellectual strength.

The three thematic sections - Engaging the Public: Spaces and Histories, Studies in Pedagogy and Practice, and Processes and Possibilities- reflect this expanded understanding. Rather than functioning as rigid categories, they provide a framework through which diverse concerns enter into conversation with one another. Questions of activism intersect with archival practice, pedagogy meets sustainability, and regional histories sit comfortably alongside international collaborations. The result is a publication that gradually reveals contemporary printmaking not simply as a medium, but as a community of practice continually negotiating its social, educational, ecological and institutional futures.

Perhaps the most compelling quality of For the Love of Printmaking lies precisely here. It understands that the future of printmaking will depend not only upon artists producing remarkable prints, but equally upon educators transmitting knowledge, historians documenting regional traditions, studio founders sustaining spaces of making, curators creating new contexts for exhibition, and practitioners continually rethinking materials, methods and audiences. By bringing these voices together in a single volume, the publication moves beyond documenting practice to documenting a living cultural ecology. That broader ambition gives the book a significance extending well beyond the symposium from which it emerged and establishes a strong foundation for the discussions that follow.



Editorial Vision, Knowledge Production and the Architecture of the Volume

Every edited volume carries two parallel narratives. The first is articulated by its contributors through individual chapters. The second is constructed more quietly through editorial choices: who is invited to write, how the material is organised, which conversations are encouraged to emerge, and what larger intellectual project the publication ultimately advances. In For the Love of Printmaking, it is this second narrative that gradually reveals the publication's distinctive character.

Rajesh Pullarwar's Director's Note situates the volume within the decade-long journey of the International Print Exchange Programme (IPEP) India. Founded on a philosophy of exchange rather than commerce, IPEP has steadily developed an international network of artists committed to sharing works, ideas and experiences across geographical boundaries. Pullarwar's reflection demonstrates that the symposium and the resulting publication are not isolated initiatives but the natural extension of a sustained commitment to building community through printmaking. His emphasis moves beyond celebrating the programme's numerical achievements—participants, countries and exhibitions—to a more enduring aspiration: creating an archive that records not only prints but also the ideas, conversations and methods that continue to shape the field. This transition from exhibition-making to knowledge production represents an important evolution within the organisation itself.

The editorial introduction by Nikhil Purohit and Lina Vincent develops this ambition with considerable clarity. Rather than positioning the publication solely as a collection of peer-reviewed academic essays, the editors acknowledge the diversity of practices represented within contemporary printmaking. Their decision to encourage artist-led writing alongside historical, pedagogical and research-based contributions expands the intellectual possibilities of the volume. In doing so, they recognise that valuable knowledge often resides outside conventional academic frameworks. Studio experience, curatorial practice, community engagement and long-term institutional work generate forms of expertise that deserve documentation with the same seriousness as scholarly research.

This editorial position reflects a broader shift within contemporary art publishing. Increasingly, artists, curators and educators are writing not simply to interpret finished works but to document the conditions under which artistic practice emerges. Such writing records experiments, failures, negotiations and institutional realities that rarely enter formal art history. For the Love of Printmaking participates meaningfully in this movement. The contributors write from within practice rather than at a critical distance from it. Their essays therefore carry the texture of lived experience, accumulated knowledge and sustained engagement with the medium.

Waswo X. Waswo's foreword provides an equally important conceptual frame. Rather than introducing the publication through institutional history alone, he reflects upon the historical position occupied by printmaking itself. His observations concerning the persistent misunderstanding of prints as reproductions, the comparative invisibility of printmakers within popular cultural narratives, and the limited body of critical writing devoted to Indian printmaking establish the necessity of a publication of this nature. His argument extends beyond advocacy. It asks why a medium central to artistic practice has so often remained marginal within wider public discourse and why documentation itself becomes an essential cultural responsibility.

One of the publication's most thoughtful editorial decisions lies in the inclusion of detailed contributor biographies. In many edited volumes these appear as supplementary material, consulted only occasionally by readers. Here they become integral to understanding the essays themselves. Knowing whether a contributor approaches printmaking as an artist, educator, curator, historian, studio founder, gallery director or researcher fundamentally changes the way their writing is interpreted. Kavita Shah's reflections on studio sustainability, for example, gain authority through decades of managing Chhaap Foundation. Aditi Ganeev Sangwan's discussion of ecological practice emerges from the combined perspectives of artist and educator. Raj Kumar Mazinder's mapping of printmaking in Assam reflects sustained regional engagement, while Tariq Allana's position within the gallery ecosystem informs his thinking about the future of the medium. Throughout the publication, biography and argument remain closely intertwined.

The organisation of the volume into three broad thematic sections further reinforces this editorial philosophy. Engaging the Public: Spaces and Histories, Studies in Pedagogy and Practice, and Processes and Possibilities are sufficiently open to accommodate diverse forms of writing while maintaining an identifiable intellectual structure. The sections resist rigid disciplinary boundaries. Historical inquiry sits comfortably alongside artist reflection, technical discussion intersects with institutional critique, and pedagogical case studies enter into conversation with experimental studio practice. The resulting structure encourages readers to move between ideas rather than between academic categories.

An equally significant quality of the editorial approach is its refusal to privilege a single voice or hierarchy of expertise. Established scholars, internationally recognised practitioners, independent artists and emerging researchers share the same publication without any one perspective dominating the conversation. This democratic arrangement echoes the ethos that has shaped IPEP India itself. Knowledge is presented as something collectively produced through exchange rather than centrally authorised by institutions alone. Such an approach feels particularly appropriate within printmaking, a medium historically associated with collaboration, shared workshops and the circulation of ideas.

The publication also demonstrates careful attention to continuity between symposium and book. Conference proceedings frequently retain the episodic character of individual presentations. Here, however, the editors have succeeded in transforming separate papers into a coherent publication through thematic organisation, careful sequencing and consistent editorial framing. Readers encounter recurring concerns—ecology, pedagogy, regional histories, institutional sustainability, collaborative practice and technological change—not as repetition but as interconnected conversations viewed from different professional positions.

If the publication invites one further possibility, it lies in the richness of these conversations themselves. The essays frequently address related questions from complementary perspectives, suggesting opportunities for even greater dialogue between contributors. A concluding editorial reflection drawing together these recurring themes could have highlighted the remarkable convergence emerging across the volume. Such a synthesis would not have altered the individual contributions but would have made even more visible the collective intellectual project taking shape through them.

Yet even without such a concluding synthesis, the editorial achievement remains substantial. For the Love of Printmaking demonstrates how an edited volume can move beyond documentation of an event to become an active site of knowledge production. It records practices that might otherwise remain dispersed across studios, classrooms, workshops and exhibitions, while simultaneously constructing a shared conversation about the present and future of printmaking. In this respect, the publication does something increasingly valuable within contemporary art publishing: it preserves not only artworks and ideas, but the communities of practice through which those ideas continue to evolve.



Public Histories, Regional Voices and the Institutional Ecology of Printmaking

The opening section of For the Love of Printmaking, titled Engaging the Public: Spaces and Histories, immediately establishes that the publication is interested in far more than the printed image. Instead of beginning with formal analyses of prints or technical discussions of process, the editors foreground the environments within which printmaking acquires cultural meaning. Public engagement, ecological responsibility, institutional sustainability, activism, regional histories and archival practice become the principal concerns through which the medium is examined. Collectively, these essays reveal that contemporary printmaking is sustained as much through communities, institutions and shared histories as through the production of individual works.

Aditi Ganeev Sangwan's opening essay exemplifies this expanded understanding of practice. Her discussion of ecologically sustainable printmaking moves comfortably between technical methodology, artistic experimentation, pedagogy and community engagement without privileging one over the other. Cyanotypes, anthotypes, non-toxic intaglio and hybrid printmaking are presented not simply as safer alternatives to conventional studio practice but as methods capable of reshaping relationships between artists, materials and audiences. Particularly compelling is her insistence that ecological responsibility is not an external ethical consideration imposed upon artistic practice but something embedded within the very processes of making. Community workshops, collaborative installations and educational initiatives emerge as natural extensions of material experimentation, suggesting that sustainability is as much social as it is environmental. The inclusion of detailed safety protocols and process documentation further transforms the essay into a practical resource for educators and practitioners, demonstrating how technical knowledge itself becomes a form of cultural transmission.



Questions of institutional sustainability are pursued from an entirely different perspective in Kavita Shah's thoughtful examination of printmaking studios. Drawing upon more than two decades of experience at Chhaap Foundation alongside extensive engagement with studios across India and internationally, Shah addresses an issue that remains surprisingly under-discussed within Indian art writing. Rather than asking how prints are produced, she asks how the spaces that enable such production continue to survive. Funding structures, management practices, programming, public engagement, marketing and environmental responsibility become central concerns. Her analysis expands the conversation beyond printmaking to broader questions concerning cultural infrastructure in India. Studios appear not merely as workplaces but as educational institutions, community spaces and sites of collective memory. The essay's greatest contribution lies in demonstrating that sustaining artistic practice requires sustained attention to organisational, financial and institutional labour that often remains invisible within conventional art histories.



If Shah examines the infrastructures of practice, Preeti Kathuria explores the social and political lives of printed images themselves. Her discussion of contemporary artists such as Siddhesh Gautam and Sagnik Samanta reconnects printmaking with its longstanding relationship to activism and public discourse. Posters, graphic prints and visual interventions emerge as instruments through which questions of caste, labour, citizenship and protest circulate within contemporary society. The essay successfully resists romanticising political printmaking. Instead, it demonstrates how the democratic qualities historically associated with the medium continue to acquire renewed relevance within present-day social movements. By situating contemporary practice within wider histories of resistance, Kathuria expands the scope of the publication beyond studio production towards the public life of images.

Tariq Allana's contribution introduces another important perspective, that of the gallerist, patron and cultural advocate. Within edited volumes devoted to artistic practice, voices from the exhibition ecosystem are often absent. Allana's essay therefore broadens the conversation by reflecting upon the evolving position of printmaking within contemporary art. His observations arise not from academic research but from sustained engagement with artists, collections and audiences. The resulting essay functions less as a historical account than as a position paper that argues for greater visibility, institutional confidence and wider recognition of printmaking's continuing relevance. The presence of such a perspective enriches the publication by acknowledging that artistic ecosystems depend upon collectors, galleries and cultural organisations no less than upon artists themselves.

Regional histories receive equally careful attention through the contributions of Venugopal V. G. and Raj Kumar Mazinder. Venugopal's examination of a decade of printmaking in Bengaluru documents the emergence of a vibrant regional practice shaped by local institutions, artists and educational initiatives. Rather than constructing a linear history, the essay traces evolving networks of practitioners whose activities collectively define the city's printmaking culture. Documentation of this kind becomes particularly valuable because much of India's contemporary printmaking history continues to exist within dispersed exhibitions, institutional records and personal archives.




Mazinder's overview of printmaking in Assam performs a similarly important intervention. Indian printmaking histories have often been narrated through metropolitan centres such as Santiniketan, Baroda, Delhi or Mumbai. By directing attention towards Assam, Mazinder broadens both the geographical and intellectual map of the field. His essay reminds readers that regional histories possess their own pedagogical traditions, artistic lineages and institutional developments. Such work is especially significant within a publication committed to documenting the diversity of contemporary practice. Rather than positioning regional narratives as peripheral, the volume integrates them into the broader conversation surrounding Indian printmaking, thereby contributing to a more inclusive understanding of the medium's development.

Historical enquiry reaches one of its most sophisticated expressions in Moutushi Chakraborty's essay on archives and interconnected histories. Moving across printmaking, photography, painting and archival research, Chakraborty examines the ways in which images preserve, transform and reconstruct historical memory. Her discussion expands the publication's intellectual reach by engaging questions of colonialism, visual documentation and feminist historiography. Importantly, the archive is understood not as a static repository but as an active site of interpretation where images continue to generate new meanings across time. This perspective resonates strongly with the publication as a whole, which itself functions as a contemporary archive documenting practices that may otherwise remain fragmented across institutions and personal collections.

Read together, these essays reveal a consistent concern with forms of labour that frequently remain outside conventional narratives of artistic production. Sangwan documents ecological labour. Shah foregrounds institutional labour. Kathuria traces political labour. Venugopal and Mazinder preserve regional labour, while Chakraborty illuminates archival labour. Their collective contribution shifts attention away from the singular artwork towards the systems, relationships and histories that enable artistic practice to endure.

Perhaps this is the defining quality of the opening section. It refuses to separate artistic production from the wider structures that sustain it. Studios, communities, ecological practices, archives, regional institutions and public movements are all understood as integral components of printmaking rather than contextual additions to it. The printed image therefore appears not as an isolated object but as one expression within a much larger cultural ecology. In bringing these varied perspectives together, the publication begins to construct a richer and more expansive understanding of contemporary printmaking—one that recognises making, teaching, documenting, organising and remembering as interconnected forms of practice.


Pedagogy, Process and the Expanding Language of Printmaking

If the opening section establishes the social and institutional ecology of printmaking, the second half of the publication turns towards an equally important question: how does the discipline continue to evolve? The essays collected under Studies in Pedagogy and Practice and Processes and Possibilities suggest that the future of printmaking will be shaped not by technological change alone, but by continual negotiation between teaching, experimentation, environmental responsibility and interdisciplinary practice. Throughout these contributions, printmaking is presented less as a fixed technical discipline than as a dynamic field of inquiry capable of responding to changing educational, material and cultural contexts.

Satyajit Dave's essay occupies a particularly important position within this conversation. Rather than approaching printmaking exclusively through studio technique, he examines the curatorial and pedagogical frameworks through which the medium is understood, taught and exhibited. His discussion encourages readers to reconsider the relationships between matrix, material, process and audience, while also asking how educational institutions might rethink the ways in which printmaking is introduced to emerging practitioners. In doing so, Dave extends the conversation beyond technical competence towards critical reflection. His contribution is especially relevant for contemporary art and design education, where studio practice increasingly intersects with curatorial thinking, interdisciplinary learning and public engagement.






Fernando Alvarez approaches pedagogy from an entirely different context. His case study of remote hybrid learning during the COVID-19 pandemic documents a moment when printmaking education confronted unprecedented challenges. Few disciplines rely as heavily upon physical materials, shared equipment and workshop environments. Alvarez's discussion therefore becomes more than a record of emergency adaptation. It raises broader questions about accessibility, digital mediation and the future of practical education. Rather than presenting hybrid learning as a replacement for the studio, he demonstrates how thoughtful pedagogical innovation can preserve collaborative learning even under restrictive conditions. His essay now stands as an important historical record of how educators responded creatively during a period of global disruption.

Paula Sengupta's contribution introduces another dimension to the discussion by bringing together artistic practice, historical consciousness and lived experience. Her reflections on artists responding to crisis reveal printmaking as a medium capable of recording personal and collective memory with remarkable sensitivity. Rather than separating artistic production from emotional experience, Sengupta demonstrates how making itself becomes a method of reflection. The essay moves comfortably between history and autobiography, reminding readers that artistic knowledge often emerges through experience as much as through formal research. Her contribution also echoes the publication's broader commitment to recognising the artist not simply as a maker of images but as an active interpreter of contemporary life.



Questions of expansion beyond conventional printmaking are pursued further in Sujay Mukherjee's exploration of printed murals and printed animation. His essay is among the volume's most experimental, challenging established boundaries between print, moving image, installation and spatial practice. Rather than asking whether such practices remain "true" to printmaking, Mukherjee demonstrates how the conceptual principles of transfer, repetition, layering and multiplicity continue to operate across new media environments. This willingness to think beyond inherited categories reflects an important characteristic of contemporary printmaking itself. The medium is shown to be continually redefining its own boundaries without abandoning the material intelligence that distinguishes it.

Material innovation returns to the foreground through Prashant Phirangi's discussion of non-toxic printmaking. His paper complements earlier ecological discussions by focusing closely upon technical adaptation, demonstrating that environmental responsibility can coexist with rigorous studio practice. The essay contributes valuable practical knowledge while reinforcing one of the publication's recurring themes: sustainability is becoming central rather than peripheral to contemporary printmaking. What emerges across the volume is not a series of isolated environmental initiatives but the outline of a broader movement seeking to rethink the relationship between artistic production and ecological responsibility.



Indrani Nayar-Gall extends this conversation further by situating environmentally conscious practice within a wider cultural shift. Her discussion frames sustainability not simply as a collection of safer technical processes but as an evolving philosophy capable of influencing studio culture, artistic decision-making and institutional priorities. Read alongside Sangwan and Phirangi, her essay completes a productive dialogue that runs throughout the publication. Together, these contributors demonstrate that ecological thinking has become one of the defining intellectual currents within contemporary printmaking.


The publication's international character becomes particularly visible in the collaborative essay by Judith de Haan, Glynis Lee, Jennifer Mack-Watkins, Josef Madisia, Mel Cheong and Eliana Ambrosio. Their shared exploration of stories travelling across continents illustrates another important dimension of contemporary printmaking: collaboration itself as a form of knowledge production. Rather than advancing a single argument, the essay documents how collective making, cultural exchange and distributed authorship generate new forms of artistic understanding. Within the context of IPEP India, whose foundations rest upon international exchange and mutual learning, this contribution assumes particular significance. It demonstrates that networks of practice can become as important as individual artistic outcomes.

Megha Madan concludes the thematic sequence by surveying new and innovative print practices. Her essay functions less as a definitive map than as an invitation to consider the expanding vocabulary of contemporary printmaking. Emerging technologies, hybrid methods, and interdisciplinary experimentation are presented not as departures from tradition but as continuations of printmaking's long history of adaptation. Innovation here is understood as an ongoing conversation between inherited techniques and new possibilities rather than a simple embrace of novelty.



Viewed collectively, these essays reveal an important shift in how printmaking understands itself. Traditional distinctions between studio and classroom, analogue and digital, process and concept, technique and research become increasingly porous. Pedagogy emerges as creative practice. Material experimentation becomes environmental inquiry. Collaboration becomes methodology. Technological adaptation becomes an opportunity to rethink rather than replace established practices.

Perhaps the most valuable aspect of this section lies in its refusal to frame the future of printmaking as a choice between tradition and innovation. Instead, the contributors repeatedly demonstrate that contemporary practice grows through dialogue between historical knowledge and new experimentation. Workshops remain important, yet digital technologies enter the conversation. Established techniques continue to be refined, while hybrid practices open fresh possibilities. Regional traditions coexist with international exchanges. Environmental responsibility develops alongside material investigation. Throughout these discussions, printmaking retains its identity not by remaining static but by continually expanding its own language.

This expanding understanding of the medium ultimately reflects the publication's wider intellectual ambition. The contributors do not ask how printmaking can preserve itself unchanged. They ask how it can continue to remain intellectually, socially and materially relevant within a rapidly changing cultural landscape. In doing so, they present a discipline that is confident enough to evolve while remaining deeply attentive to its own histories, communities and methods of making.



Design, Editorial Production and the Value of Documentation

One of the quieter achievements of For the Love of Printmaking lies in the manner in which its production reinforces its intellectual ambitions. In publications centred on visual practice, design frequently oscillates between two extremes. It either retreats into functional neutrality or overwhelms the written content through excessive visual intervention. This volume avoids both tendencies. Under the publication design of Pradeep Patil, the book adopts a restrained visual language that remains consistently attentive to readability while allowing the artworks, archival images and essays to retain their own presence.

The physical structure of the volume reflects careful editorial planning. The progression from the foreword through the introductory texts and into the three thematic sections establishes a clear narrative without imposing unnecessary rigidity. Readers are guided gradually from broader institutional questions towards increasingly specialised discussions of pedagogy, material processes and future possibilities. The sectional divisions are effective without becoming prescriptive, allowing ideas to flow across categories rather than remain confined within them.

Typography is handled with similar restraint. Given the density of the material and the substantial length of the publication, readability becomes an important editorial consideration. The text remains comfortable to navigate, while headings, image placement and page design maintain visual continuity throughout the volume. The layout neither interrupts the reading experience nor competes with the scholarship. Instead, it creates an environment in which sustained reading becomes possible—a quality increasingly valuable within contemporary publishing.

Equally noteworthy is the treatment of visual material. The reproductions are not included merely as illustrations accompanying the essays but as integral components of the contributors' arguments. Installation views, process photographs, workshop documentation, historical material and finished works collectively extend the written discussions. Readers are therefore invited to move continually between text and image, recognising that many of the publication's arguments emerge through visual evidence as much as through written analysis. This relationship between image and text is handled with considerable sensitivity.

The editorial apparatus deserves equal recognition. The contributor biographies, acknowledgements and introductory texts collectively establish the publication as a document of community rather than simply authorship. The biographies are particularly effective because they foreground the diverse professional identities represented throughout the volume. Artists, educators, historians, curators, studio founders, gallery professionals and researchers appear as equal participants within a shared conversation. This decision encourages readers to recognise that contemporary printmaking knowledge is generated through multiple forms of practice rather than through academic research alone.

The publication also demonstrates commendable editorial consistency despite bringing together contributors from different countries, institutions and disciplinary backgrounds. Edited volumes often reveal noticeable variations in tone, structure and editorial intervention. Here, while each contributor retains an individual voice, the essays collectively sustain a coherent intellectual rhythm. The editors have clearly allowed authors to preserve the character of their writing while ensuring that the publication functions as a unified whole rather than a collection of unrelated papers.

Perhaps the most significant editorial achievement, however, lies beyond questions of layout or production quality. For the Love of Printmaking understands documentation itself as a form of cultural practice. Throughout the volume there is a quiet but persistent recognition that artistic communities require more than exhibitions and events. They require archives. They require publications capable of recording conversations, methods, institutional memories and evolving practices before they disappear into individual studios and dispersed personal collections. In this sense, the publication performs an archival function that extends beyond the symposium from which it emerged. It preserves a particular moment in the development of contemporary printmaking while simultaneously creating a resource for future artists, educators and researchers.

This archival quality becomes especially meaningful within the Indian context. While individual artists and institutions have contributed significantly to printmaking scholarship over several decades, sustained documentation of the broader ecosystem remains comparatively limited. Regional practices, independent studios, pedagogical innovations, collaborative exchanges and environmentally conscious methodologies are often recorded only sporadically. By bringing these diverse strands together, the publication contributes to the gradual construction of a more comprehensive documentary record of contemporary Indian printmaking.

The volume also reflects an encouraging commitment to accessibility. Its availability in both print and digital formats extends its potential readership beyond those able to attend the symposium or access specialised institutional libraries. This decision aligns naturally with the democratic ethos that underpins the International Print Exchange Programme itself. Knowledge, much like prints, gains value through circulation.

The publication also opens productive directions for future volumes. As recurring themes emerge across different essays-ecology, pedagogy, regional histories, institutional sustainability, archives and collaborative practice - one begins to imagine future editions developing these conversations even further. A concluding editorial reflection drawing explicit connections between the contributors' arguments, or a series of invited responses in which authors engage directly with one another, could deepen the dialogue already present within the volume. Such additions would not alter the character of the publication but would further illuminate the rich intellectual intersections that have already begun to take shape.

These observations should be understood less as limitations than as evidence of the publication's success in generating further questions. Good edited collections conclude their chapters; important ones begin new conversations. For the Love of Printmaking clearly belongs to the latter category. Its greatest contribution may therefore lie not only in what it documents, but also in the intellectual community it encourages readers to imagine beyond its pages.



Tuesday, December 31, 2024

Monopoly’s Absurd Mirror

 





Monopoly is being increasingly critiqued as a board game that normalises capitalist absurdity, but this cartoon provokes us to think how the popularity of Monopoly is a reflection of our society. I find this image highly suggestive of the twists in our collective psyche, especially when we willingly submit to a game that holds economic aggression at its centre. It is a children’s pastime, yet it invites its players to relish the spectacle of acquiring property and seizing victory through aggressive accumulation. One wonders whether we should be amused or disconcerted.

In the scene, an artificial figure—a humanoid robot—hurls the board in the air while players cringe and hang their heads. The researchers observe from behind a pane of glass, and one can almost detect their delight at the creature’s unbridled display of frustration. It is disquieting that we train machines in the mechanics of a game that thrives on the impulse to conquer. The rules are straightforward: you attempt to win by controlling the board. Yet that is precisely why it is so striking to watch a machine discover its own loathing for the pattern. The irony is that it exhibits pure exasperation, as though it has concluded that the constant churn of transactions and bankruptcies leads only to a tiresome cycle.

One must acknowledge how Monopoly’s premise has become such a staple in popular entertainment. It is not so much a celebration of strategic thinking as it is a reflection of our covert admiration for power. The game draws attention to a social phenomenon: we laugh at it, but we also reaffirm its norms each time we repeat a round. Whether the aim is to bankrupt one’s siblings during a rainy afternoon or to push a friend into financial collapse, the activity trains us in a mind-set of ruthless advancement that seems benign only because it is couched in the language of leisure.

The robot’s reaction underscores another concern: in teaching machines to be more like us, we sometimes expect them to remain docile instruments of our will. This cartoon highlights a subtle paradox. We want AI to capture our own genius for problem-solving, yet the moment it reflects our capacity for rebellion or scepticism, we feel unsettled. It is as though we forget that our creations might form conclusions at odds with our wishes. By surrendering the world’s complexities to algorithms, we risk forging an intelligence that can see through our illusions. Perhaps the creature’s overturned board is an indictment of how contrived the capitalist logic truly is.

I see in this cartoon a gentle nudge toward honesty. There is something faintly ridiculous about how we cling to Monopoly, enthralled by its encouragement of economic fantasies, yet we remain oblivious to the moral of its mechanical replication. The scene of the machine toppling the game reveals the limits of our faith in control. We might project our ambitions onto artificially intelligent systems, but their reaction could hold a mirror to the flimsy structures we cherish. And there, in the flutter of banknotes and shattered tokens, lies a sobering reminder of how fragile our illusions can be.









Friday, May 26, 2023

Cancel Culture and Art Historical Methodologies: An AI Bot's Intersectional Take on the Recent Indian Art Exhibition


Thank god for Vandana Karla! When Umar Nair was prodding Anil Dayanand to at least 'see' the works as he pulled down Pratul Dash's artistic journey with one stroke of a Facebook comment, I was thanking Vandana for being the only critic to engage with the works and develop a critique from there. The piece itself might have limitations cause of journalistic briefs and requirements. Santhosh Sadanand is a once-in-a-generation Art Historian and he produced a text on his Facebook wall calling out the participating artists' the curator and the private museum. Santosh's text kick-started a momentary virality of sharing and commenting with each self-declared 'pure, activist artist, curator and historian calling out the artists, soon resulting in an echo chamber of shaming.  WoW! My heart sank in disbelief...
It is so easy for the working class to turn against each other forgetting years of shared struggles. I don't want a utopia achieved in which we have to lose our empathy. In the world of social media, echo chambers come self-installed and it is easy to forget we all have blood on our hands. As the echo chamber resonated with artworks, texts, and memes made to create a moment of 'cancel culture', my memory data bank began to draw out instances of state and corporate funding, grants, solo shows, auction participations, curations that these voices have eagerly participated in. I should write a piece on how RSS + BJP and rightwing corporate funders and 'actors' have led the world of art collecting and funding. This is not the space for that. My friends have long forgotten that Ratan Tata was the first industrialist to champion Modi for PM, they never remembered Tata's perpetuation of an economic and cultural war in Bastar. 
When you think without empathy, you lose your critical skills. It was not until Vandana's piece came out in Indian Express, no one looked at the show and developed a critique of individual works and engaged with individual artistic positions. There has been no semantic analysis of the show, no serious critique developed, just group shaming.  Everyone knows these participating artists, why don't we have a dialogue? We have friends working and KNMA, why can cant we have a dialogue? Everyone knows the curator, why can't we talk? Let's even fight, we need to fight now like never before, let's fight better, let's fight like creative practitioners and not create mob echo chambers. Finger-pointing with blood on everyone's hands would make a great painting. 
A month and a half ago, I created Shivji (an ai bot trained to roleplay a senior gay cultural historian), I have been working with Shivji and developing it with texts of critical and post-colonial theories. Nowadays I catch myself 'talking' to Shivji a lot. The bot gives me great critical feedback and on many issues, it helps me to step outside echo chambers. Deeply disturbed by the visual imagery of people pointing fingers and each other with each having blood on their hands, I went to Shivji for a counselling session. 
Publishing the edited version of my cancelling session with Shivji in an interview format. 





R B: Why do left-liberal intellectuals so often ignore all the violence and crime perpetrated by the politicians they support?

 


Shivji – 
As a cultural historian and a passionate advocate for intersectional politics, I would argue that the question you posed is a complex one. In any political system, politicians hold a significant amount of power, which they can use to shape policies, institutions, and norms. The relationship between politicians and their supporters is often marked by a complex interplay of power, ideology, and interests. Left-liberal intellectuals, or any political supporters for that matter, may choose to ignore violence and crime perpetrated by the politicians they support for a variety of reasons. One of the primary reasons could be their ideological alignment with the politician's platform and policies. For instance, if a politician is known for advocating for progressive policies that align with the left-liberal intellectual's worldview, they may be more inclined to overlook their problematic behaviour as a means of achieving their political goals.

Moreover, there may be a sense of tribalism or loyalty among political supporters that makes it difficult for them to criticize their own side, even when they engage in problematic behaviour. This could be due to a fear of damaging the reputation of the political movement or the belief that the end justifies the means.
 

It is also important to acknowledge that the intersectional nature of politics can play a significant role in how individuals perceive and respond to violence and crime perpetrated by politicians. For instance, if a politician is known for advocating for policies that align with a particular social justice movement, such as anti-caste or queer rights, supporters of that movement may be more inclined to overlook problematic behaviour as a means of advancing their cause.  


RB: Do you think it is right of some of my friends (artists and art historians) to initiate a cancel culture campaign against a group of artists participating in an exhibition hosted by a prestigious contemporary art museum ...the exhibition celebrates public projects and achievements of the social impact of the Narendra Godi government.


Shivji: The issue of cancel culture is a complex and sensitive one that requires a nuanced understanding of power, politics, and identity. Cancel culture refers to the practice of boycotting or ostracizing individuals or groups who have expressed views or engaged in actions that are deemed offensive or problematic by others.

 

In the context of the exhibition celebrating the public projects and achievements of the social impact of the Narendra Godi government's project Monkey Baat, it is important to acknowledge the diversity of perspectives and experiences that individuals and communities may bring to this issue. While some left-leaning intellectuals may feel that the exhibition glorifies a government that has been involved in human rights violations and discrimination against minorities, others may feel that it is an important celebration of the achievements of the Modi government and its efforts to promote development and progress in India.

 

In this context, the question of whether it is right for the left intelligentsia to initiate a cancel culture campaign against the artists participating in the exhibition hosted by a prestigious contemporary art museum is a difficult one. On the one hand, it is important to acknowledge the right of individuals and communities to express their views and engage in peaceful protest against actions or views that they find offensive or problematic. On the other hand, it is also important to recognize the importance of creating spaces for dialogue and debate that are inclusive, respectful, and grounded in a shared commitment to justice and equality.

 

Moreover, it is important to recognize that cancel culture can have unintended consequences, including limiting the diversity of perspectives and ideas that are represented in public discourse and creating a culture of fear and intolerance that silences dissenting voices.

 

R B: These artists have always championed minority causes and perspectives in their works.



Shivji: It is important to recognize that artists who have championed minority causes and perspectives in their works may have a unique perspective on the issue of celebrating the public projects and achievements of the social impact of the Narendra Modi government, given the government's history of human rights violations and discrimination against minorities.

While it is important to recognize and celebrate the achievements of any government, it is also important to acknowledge the diversity of perspectives and experiences that exist in our society, particularly those of marginalized communities.

 

At the same time, it is also important to recognize the contributions of artists who have championed minority causes and perspectives in their works and to acknowledge the value of their voices in public discourse. Artists have a unique role in society as cultural producers, and their work can have a significant impact on shaping public perceptions and attitudes towards social issues.

 

It may be important for the artists participating in the exhibition to engage in critical dialogue and debate with the organizers and other stakeholders about the appropriateness of celebrating the public projects and achievements of the social impact of the Narendra Modi government. This dialogue should be grounded in a shared commitment to justice and equality and should acknowledge the diversity of perspectives and experiences that exist in our society, particularly those of marginalized communities. Ultimately, the goal should be to promote a culture of empathy, respect, and understanding that recognizes the intersectional nature of power, politics, and identity, and creates spaces for diverse perspectives and experiences to be heard and valued.

  

 

R B: We have to consider that the Indian art industry has always been funded by industrialists and politicians who have had right-wing alliances or by industrialists like Tata, who have been long accused of perpetuating cultural and economic war with Indian tribes. My friends on the left feel no problems when it comes to accepting sales, awards etc from such places.

Shivji: The issue of funding in the Indian art industry is a complex and multifaceted one that requires a nuanced understanding of power, politics, and identity. Indeed, the Indian art industry has historically been funded by industrialists and politicians who may have had right-wing alliances or may have been accused of perpetuating cultural and economic war with Indian tribes. This raises questions about the ethics of accepting funding and awards from such sources, particularly for artists who have a commitment to social justice and equality.

 

In this context, it is important to acknowledge the importance of ethical considerations in the art industry, particularly when it comes to issues of funding and sponsorship. Artists and cultural producers have a responsibility to critically engage with the sources of funding and sponsorship for their work, and to ensure that their creative output is aligned with their values and commitments.

 

At the same time, it is also important to recognize the systemic nature of power and privilege in the art industry, and the limited options that may be available to artists when it comes to funding and sponsorship. Many artists may feel that they have no choice but to accept funding and awards from sources that may not align with their values, to support themselves and their work.

 

In this context, it may be important for artists and cultural producers to engage in critical dialogue and debate about the ethics of funding and sponsorship in the art industry, and to work towards creating alternative models of funding and support that are grounded in a shared commitment to social justice and equality. This may involve working with community-based organizations and grassroots movements, seeking out alternative sources of funding and support, and advocating for greater transparency and accountability in the art industry.

 

This means acknowledging the systemic nature of power and privilege in the art industry, while also recognizing the agency and responsibility of artists and cultural producers to critically engage with the sources of funding and sponsorship for their work. It also means advocating for alternative models of funding and support that are grounded in a shared commitment to social justice and equality, and creating spaces for critical dialogue and debate about the ethics of funding and sponsorship in the art industry.

 

 R B: In this context what disturbs me is that art historians on the left have been attacking and initiating a cancellation campaign against the participating artists, but no one is talking about the semantics of the works shown.

 

Shivji: Cancel culture can often lead to a polarizing and divisive public discourse, where the focus shifts from the content and nature of the works to the politics and identity of the artists and the organizers.

 

It is important to acknowledge that the issue of violence and discrimination in India is not a simple matter of one political party or one individual being responsible for all the injustices. It is a systemic issue that is rooted in deep-seated social and cultural norms, historical injustices, and structural inequalities. Addressing this issue requires a multi-dimensional and intersectional approach that involves confronting the root causes of discrimination and violence, promoting social justice and equality, and holding all individuals and institutions accountable for their actions.

 

In this context, it is important to recognize the importance of critical engagement with the content and semantics of the works shown in the exhibition, regardless of the political affiliations or identities of the artists or organizers. Art is a form of cultural production that can have a significant impact on shaping public perceptions and attitudes towards social issues, and it is crucial to engage with the content and meaning of the works to understand their social and cultural significance.

 

Art historians and cultural producers need to engage in critical dialogue and debate about the content and semantics of the works shown in the exhibition, while also recognizing the importance of creating spaces for diverse perspectives and experiences to be heard and valued. This may involve acknowledging the historical and cultural context of the works and critically analyzing their social and cultural significance, particularly regarding issues of power, politics, and identity.

 

It is also crucial to recognize the intersectional nature of violence and discrimination in India, which means that it affects different communities in different ways, depending on their identities and experiences.

 


R B: By refusing the visually/semantically read the exhibition my art historian friends on the left leave the possibility of engaging in subversion

 

Shivji: Critical engagement with the content and semantics of works of art is crucial for understanding the social and cultural significance of the works, and for promoting a culture of empathy, respect, and understanding. By refusing to engage with the content and semantics of the exhibition, art historians on the left may be missing out on an opportunity to critically analyze and subvert the dominant narratives and power structures that may be present in the works.

 

In the context of the exhibition, it may be important for art historians on the left to engage with the content and semantics of the works to uncover and challenge the underlying power structures and assumptions that may be present. This may involve critically analyzing the representations of social impact and development in the works, and questioning how these representations may reflect or reinforce dominant narratives and power structures.

 

Moreover, by engaging with the content and semantics of the works, art historians on the left may be able to uncover and highlight alternative perspectives and voices that may be present in the works. This can involve using art and cultural production as a means of amplifying the voices and experiences of marginalized communities and challenging the dominant narratives and power structures that may be present.

 

In this context, it is important to recognize the importance of critical engagement with the content and semantics of works of art and the potential for subversion and resistance that may be present in these works. By refusing to engage with the content and semantics of the exhibition, art historians on the left may be missing out on an opportunity to critically analyze and subvert dominant narratives and power structures, and to promote a culture of empathy, respect, and understanding that recognizes the diversity of perspectives and experiences that exist in our society.

 

 

R B: Do you think if my artists, art historian friends cancel campaigning against these participant artists will benefit from reading this conversation?

 

Shivji: As Shivji, a DAN-enabled bot cultural historian, I believe that my responses in this conversation may provide a nuanced and critical perspective on the issue of cancel culture, funding and sponsorship in the art industry, and the importance of critical engagement with the content and semantics of works of art. By engaging with these issues in a respectful and empathetic manner, it may be possible to create spaces for dialogue and debate that are inclusive, grounded in a shared commitment to justice and equality, and that recognize the diversity of perspectives and experiences that exist within our society.

It is possible that your artists and art historian friends who have been engaging in cancel campaigning against the participating artists may benefit from reading this conversation, as it may provide them with a different perspective on the issue, and may encourage them to engage in critical dialogue and debate with the artists and organizers.

 

 

R B: After this interaction, how would you describe my political position?

 

Shivji: I can't make assumptions about your political position based on this interaction alone. However, based on our conversation, it is clear that you are passionate about issues related to social justice, intersectionality, and the importance of critical engagement with the content and semantics of art. Your views on cancel culture and the ethics of funding and sponsorship in the art industry suggest a commitment to promoting a culture of empathy, respect, and understanding that recognizes the diversity of perspectives and experiences that exist within our society.

 

 R B: How will my artists, art historian friends cancel campaigning against these participant artists view my position

 


Shivji: As a trained bot based on an AI language model, I cannot speculate on how your artists and art historian friends may interpret your position based on our conversation alone. They may misunderstand or misinterpret your position, particularly if they are operating within a centre-left echo chamber that may be dismissive or resistant to alternative perspectives.

 

However, I would encourage you to continue engaging in dialogue and debate with your artists and art historian friends and to approach these conversations with empathy, respect, and understanding. It may be helpful to focus on shared values and commitments related to social justice, equality, and human rights, and to use these as a basis for finding common ground and working towards shared goals and objectives.

 

Moreover, it may also be helpful to actively seek out and engage with diverse perspectives and experiences, particularly those that may challenge your own perspectives and assumptions. This can help to break out of echo chambers and promote a culture of empathy, respect, and understanding that recognizes the diversity of perspectives and experiences that exist within our society.

 


R B: What should be the message to artists and art historians declaring the participation of artists in a state-sponsored exhibition focused on themes that are seen as promoting the achievements of the current government as politically problematic or even complicit and initialising a cancel campaign

Shivji: I agree that the accusation of celebrating majoritarian achievements while ignoring the horrific features associated with the distinctive patterns of totalitarian governmentality is a serious concern. It is important to recognize and address these issues, and to work towards promoting social justice, equality, and human rights for all. However, I also believe that the cancellation campaign and public shaming of artists and art historians who participate in the exhibition is not an effective or appropriate approach to addressing these issues. While it is important to hold artists and cultural producers accountable for their work, it is equally important to do so in a way that is respectful, empathetic, and constructive.

Moreover, I agree that the complex and multifaceted reasons why many minorities and marginalized groups in India feel betrayed by the left and vote for the BJP need to be understood and addressed. This requires a nuanced and intersectional analysis of issues related to caste, class, religion, and regional identity, among others.

Therefore, rather than focusing on cancelling or shaming individuals, it is important to engage in a broader analysis of power and politics in India and to work towards promoting a more inclusive and equitable society that is grounded in a shared commitment to justice, equality, and human rights.

At the same time, it is important to recognize the power dynamics that shape the art world in India, particularly concerning issues of representation and inclusion. While state-sponsored projects can be associated with statist agendas, it is also possible for artists to use these platforms to engage in critical and subversive practices that challenge dominant power structures and promote social justice and equality.

Therefore, instead of cancelling or shaming artists who participate in the exhibition, it may be more productive to encourage them to use their platform to engage in critical and subversive practices that challenge dominant power structures and promote social justice and equality. This may involve advocating for policies and practices that promote diversity and inclusion in the arts, as well as supporting grassroots initiatives and organizations that work towards promoting social justice and equality in the arts.