Indian-born and Texas-raised multidisciplinary artist Preetika Rajgariah dives head-on into the politics surrounding her life as a queer, immigrant artist to tell her story.  Preetika Rajgariah
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Preetika Rajgariah's Multidisciplinary Art Defies Capitalism Through Hybridity

Disha Bijolia

Personal is political. This statement, which came to be defined as the ethos of second-wave feminism, is often used to counter arguments of politics being a separate, far-removed subject in sociology. Those debating this argument know that politics starts when you're born. From your gender to your socio-economic background and your ethnicity, you fall into the political spectrum somewhere whether you're aware of it or not. 

Indian-born and Texas-raised multidisciplinary artist Preetika Rajgariah dives head-on into the politics surrounding her life as a queer, immigrant artist to tell her story. Her work intersects cultural and queer identity as well as capitalism. Using a variety of materials as a medium of expression, the artist incorporates textiles as well as yoga mats in her paintings; creating multidimensional narratives of her internal and external worlds. 

We spoke to the artist about her work and how it maps her identity in an interview you can read below:

As someone who bridges multiple cultures, how do you navigate the representation of Indian traditions and Western influences in your art without reducing either to stereotypes?

I like this question because this is the core feeling of where my work stems from. My upbringing was a mishmash of cultures. I was born in Delhi and immigrated to the US when I was four, so I have very early memories from my experience in India and America in the 90s; pre-internet.

I can't reduce it to stereotypes because it's my lived experience and there are things that do look alike across people's experiences; a common thread. But there's also the specificity of the different things that my parents tried to recreate in suburban Houston that came from their traditional homes back in India versus things where they had to bend a little bit, all of which I was trying to assimilate. I was othered in every space I occupied: both Indian and American. So I think the representation wasn't stereotypical because it was my lived experience; specific to me. 

Your critique of capitalist consumption is a recurring theme in your art. Can you tell us about a specific piece where you believe this critique is most effectively communicated and explain the elements that contribute to this?

I think it's in my paintings that are made on yoga mats. This body of work, that I’ve been making for the past four years is where I am most interested in capitalism and bodies in context to capitalism. Capitalism does this thing where it erases the hands and the labour behind created objects and I think I am trying to bring the humanity and the hands back to the foreground.

In the mat paintings, my brown body which is of South Asian descent, is brought to a space I occupy where yoga is very whitewashed; it’s very rich white woman-oriented in the US. My work tries to bring attention to the fact that this practice has roots in India as a way of combating the erasure of capitalism and appropriation. It’s not to say, “You guys can’t practice yoga,” but rather, “Just know where it comes from and pay homage to its roots. Don't erase the people and don't misinform masses about this spiritual practice that goes back thousands of years.”

Capitalism also comes into play because I'm trying to work with the natural ecosystem. All the mats I use are either bought second-hand or donated to my practice which is important to me because this is a material that does biodegrade and it's not going to go into a landfill and just create more landfill waste, so I like to think of my practice as ecologically friendly.

It's important for me to share that all the titles for the paintings are from tea bag labels like Yogi Tea, which are popular here. I'm really interested in the wellness community. In the States, I've watched what the wellness industry has become and how they've plucked from Eastern methodologies. I think a lot of my work is based on how globalization operates and how it has transformed since the 80s and 90s. And so there are little seeds of comic relief in the work to me. These names sound so obscure; so wise and sage for just a teabag, you know? So in my work, I'm also taking the language of capitalism and turning it on its head for my own use and fun.

Your work often incorporates textiles and found objects both as a canvas and inside the paintings, like the fabric patterns as your skin. How do these materials enhance the narrative you aim to convey in your exploration of cultural identity and consumerism?

I started collecting and working with my mom's old sarees and salwar kameez when I was an undergraduate 15 years ago. These fabrics are from a certain time; from the 80s and 90s. The sarees are from her generation and sometimes I'm also using my old salwar kameez and Indian outfits that I don't wear. These fabrics have value, like when we say, “It's from India: it's good cotton. Get it.” These are signifiers of trade, exchange, and commerce between cultures around the globe. The bodies in the paintings are enmeshed with these textiles that are of family lineage and matrilineal lineage. There's a lot of personal touches that I think bring humanity to the pieces. Clothes and fabrics are on bodies and that carries a certain energy. So do the yoga mats that have been used in someone’s practice; they carry their energy and sweat. Putting all these human touches and traces of humanity together all kind of goes against the machine of capitalism that erases all that.

I like to put the pattern on the skin as a way of embodying culture quite literally and directly because sometimes you feel removed from your home and using saree as my skin in the painting is a way for me to feel closer to home, family, and my mom. As South Asians, we grow up around so many textiles and patterns and so much texture all around us and that is evident in my work because that is a source of comfort and familiarity to me.

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