In a candid conversation with Homegrown recently, Sohpaul discussed his evolving thought process: from questions about diasporic inheritance and future memory to the ethics of representation, institutional power, and artistic responsibility.  Jessie Sohpaul
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In Conversation With Jessie Sohpaul: Diaspora, Caste, & Making Art That Refuses Comfort

The Punjabi-Canadian artist on diaspora, caste, public art, and working in the liminal space between art, design, memory, and resistance.

Drishya

In this candid conversation with Homegrown, Punjabi-Canadian multidisciplinary artist Jessie Sohpaul speaks about diaspora, caste, design, and responsibility in contemporary art — reflecting on identity inherited across borders, anti-caste practice, institutional power, and how public art can create space for difficult, necessary conversations within South Asian diasporic communities.

Jessie Sohpaul holds a unique place in contemporary Canadian art and design, shaped as much by his personal history as by a conscious choice to avoid fitting into strict disciplinary or cultural categories. A Punjabi-Canadian multidisciplinary artist, Sohpaul works across murals, furniture, branding, exhibitions, and public installations — using each medium to explore how identity is constructed, inherited, and challenged within the diaspora. His practice stems from what he often calls the “space between” art and design: where art tackles difficult, unresolved questions, and design provides structure, clarity, and purpose.

A Punjabi-Canadian multidisciplinary artist, Sohpaul works across murals, furniture, branding, exhibitions, and public installations, using each medium to explore how identity is constructed, inherited, and challenged within the diaspora.

Born in Canada to Punjabi immigrant parents, Sohpaul belongs to a generation navigating both distance and proximity — geographically separated from the subcontinent yet deeply connected to its histories. Themes such as migration, colonial extraction, caste hierarchy, and cultural memory appear repeatedly throughout his work as lived realities. His restrained visual language — often stark black and white, occasionally accented with gold or red — signifies a deliberate resistance to celebratory multiculturalism. Instead, his work emphasizes confronting: inherited violence through history, privilege quietly carried into diaspora, and stories long silenced.

Sohpaul’s background in UX and corporate design continues to shape his artistic approach, giving his work a discipline that is both conceptual and spatial. Whether creating a public mural in Vancouver’s Punjabi Market, designing seating inspired by gurdwara architecture, or curating exhibitions that directly address caste discrimination, his practice is deeply connected to context, community, and accountability. Increasingly, his work focuses on explicitly anti-caste narratives, placing him within a growing movement of South Asian artists challenging dominant diaspora voices and highlighting marginalised perspectives.

In a candid conversation with Homegrown recently, Sohpaul discussed his evolving thought process: from questions about diasporic inheritance and future memory to the ethics of representation, institutional power, and artistic responsibility. What came out of this conversation is not a single definition of diasporic Punjabi identity, but a commitment to honesty, discomfort, and the belief that art can create space for others to speak.

“Kohinoor, where are you?”, Mural, 35-feet x 16-feet (2022)

As a first-generation Canadian born to Punjabi immigrant parents, how do you see contemporary visual art, public installations, and murals serving as a vehicle for preserving, evolving, or reimagining diasporic Punjabi identity for future generations? What responsibility do you feel as an artist in shaping how diaspora communities understand their own heritage?

My artwork is a way of understanding my own story and heritage. My parents were born in India. I was born in Canada. I’m the first (generation) to be born here. In a way, my artwork is a snapshot of this unique moment. What are the stories that are relevant to me? What does my heritage look like to me from my side?

I also look at it from a future ancestor’s lens. What would future generations want to understand about this specific time? And that comes through my experience and stories, which I share through my work.

I don’t see my role as defining a singular narrative of Punjabi identity, but rather than one honest perspective. And I think this also acts as a catalyst for others to share their own stories as well, hopefully.

Solo Exhibit: 'The Past is Calling', Burrard Arts Foundation, Vancouver (2023)

Your recent work engages more explicitly with anti-caste themes — from your exhibition ‘The Past is Calling’ using shoes as a metaphor for caste discrimination, to your participation in the landmark ‘Dalit Dreamlands’ group exhibition. How has your understanding of your own positionality as a Punjabi diaspora artist evolved in relation to caste-critical analysis? What do you believe is the role and responsibility of South Asian artists in centering Dalit and marginalized voices?

I’ve become more conscious of the issue of caste and more vocal about my position on it.

In the West, it comes out in a much more insidious and sometimes quieter way. The majority of the Punjabi diaspora comes from a caste-privileged background, and that becomes the dominant voice. By centering Dalit and marginalized voices, I share stories that often go unheard.

And this also disrupts the dominant narrative, especially if you look at my past exhibition, ‘The Past is Calling’. It allowed me to use metaphors and materials such as shoes to speak on lived experiences of exclusion, labour, and dignity. And I did it in a way that made it accessible while also being confrontational.

These tap into issues, stories, and histories that often go overlooked. As someone who comes from a “lower” caste, I felt it was an obligation to share this perspective and amplify this story and this voice through the work. It’s a responsibility. My ancestors couldn’t, so I should share that story.

You describe working in the liminal space where ‘art asks questions while design focuses on solutions’. As you’ve transitioned from corporate design work to full-time artistic practice, and now into leadership roles directing exhibitions, how has this conceptual framework evolved? Can you share a specific project where you felt this tension acutely, and how you navigated that creative challenge?

My conceptual framework is heavily design-focused. My background is in UX design, and much of the process is informed by it. It’s really ingrained in me, and sometimes it’s hard to get out of that mind frame.

In design, good design, every design decision has a rationale. Each design has to be clear, has to sort of serve a function or have an outcome. Escaping that thinking is a challenge in itself, and for me, it really shaped how I approached anything creative. And so the challenge came in learning how to loosen that thinking when I shifted from designing for others to creating work for myself.

Art doesn’t always need to solve something. The power really lies in that sort of ambiguity, and also relying on your intuition. So I shifted from designing for others to creating for myself. I think that’s where the main sort of change happened. I think that’s really recent.

A good example of this is the 'Nazar Battu' work I’ve been doing recently. It’s purely expressive. It does serve some function, but it broke me out of this design process. Nazar Battus carry a functional and cultural protective form or role, but the way I approached it was intentionally expressive rather than solution-driven. This allowed me to move more instinctually and symbolically.

Nazar Battu, NB02

As Creative Director of the Punjabi Market Collective and recently appointed Creative Director of the ‘Overcaste’ exhibit at Burnaby Village Museum, you’re navigating institutional frameworks while maintaining grassroots community accountability. How do you maintain creative autonomy in these roles? What systemic changes do you believe museums and cultural institutions need to make to authentically center marginalised artists?

Any creative director role I take on for a project, the goal is to have a vision that has a mission or at least core principles.

All this is said after conversations with community members, team members to make sure everyone is on the same wavelength. I think that’s really important to have a solid project. You have to have everyone on the same sort of mission and wavelength. 

After this, it’s key to ensure everything from the exhibit content and design, all the way to the marketing, is aligned. And this is important because we know the content best because we are living that experience. If it’s an exhibit on cast, or anything to do with heritage, we know it best.

I think the best work really comes when museums and institutions trust artists and give them autonomy. This is the best way to create work that is authentic and that amplifies marginalised voices the best.

Your practice has evolved across multiple mediums — from graphic design and streetwear with 'DO NOT TOUCH' to large-scale public murals, film direction, and curatorial roles. Are there artistic territories or themes that you haven’t yet explored, but want to investigate? How do you envision your work evolving while maintaining a commitment to South Asian cultural narratives in relation to emerging challenges like environmental sustainability, technological change, or evolving migration patterns?

I’ve often struggled with the question, what medium do I work with? Since I’ve worked with so many mediums from graphic design to streetwear, to murals, to film. I think for me, curiosity and my life drives my work.

2025 was a year with many highs and lows. I saw a lot of death in the family and friend circles. And this made me reflect a lot on ideas of safety, protection, and vulnerability. It made me ask the questions like what does it mean to be safe? What are some mechanisms of protection?

That led me to exploring Nazar Battus and masks, anything that wards off evil spirits or negative vibes. And I delved into ceramic masks, as well as repurposing street signs. This is something that came out of that exploration and that experience from my life.

The work will always evolve given what’s happening in my life and the world around me. Environmental sustainability is huge. I think that’s very relevant and I think it’s going to continue to be. I’m really conscious of sourcing local material as best as I can. Also, having ready-made objects, and almost remixing them.

Repurposing found objects is something I’ve been doing a lot of. And I think this is really important, and it's honestly really fun to do. And also it’s just interesting, I like to be very observant.

One interesting thing to observe is the new migration patterns of people coming to Canada. A lot of people from the subcontinent are here. People from India, especially who are the same age as my parents when they first came to Canada, it’s like witnessing the past reappear in a new present.

It’s been interesting to observe that and how they navigate spaces. It’s been an interesting time to be in Canada and observing and witnessing all of this.

Follow Jessie Sohpaul here.

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