Defying The Eurocentric Gaze: Paree Rohera's Art Is Decolonising South Asian Beauty

"Everybody looks the same now," we whine in unision, simultaneously calling aquiline noses, almond-shaped eyes, or textured hair "too ethnic". The notion of beauty is smoke and mirrors; we can't escape the hold of euro-centric standards but we love 'exotic' features (which is problematic in itself). The threads of cultural identity and beauty are entangled like that. And people of colour have come to learn it the hard way. Initially, we hate ourselves for being 'different' but slowly come to terms with our physical features being a profound aspect of our heritage and identity.

As a kid, I would literally cry as my mother shoved me into a scratchy salwar-kameez for wedding ceremonies when I wanted to wear my Eminem T-shirt. Today, I have an unholy collection of jhumkas because I feel stunning in them. Like clothes, we learn to love and wear our bodies with affection as well. The loving shift arises out of a cultural and historical education about where we come from.

But the only way out of this negative Westernized gaze is through. Which is also how Paree Rohera operates in her practice. Originally from Mumbai, Paree explores the insecurities South Asian people carry about their appearance by exaggerating these seemingly 'negative' features in her characters. Wide eyes, long loses, caricatured side profiles and lots of fine curly hair populate her artwork. These features that we sometimes hide because of the prevalence of a Eurocentric gaze, take centre stage in her work; demanding to be seen. And in their prominence, what was once considered 'ugly' becomes unique and charming. Paree's creative practice lies in the realm of gazes: Western and South Asian. Her work centres on the interplay between the two.

Through physicality, she weaves a narrative of colonial influence on cultural identity and notions of beauty. We recently spoke to Paree about the inner workings of her art and its conception.

How does your experience of moving between India and the U.S. inform your practice and identity as an artist?

Over the past four years, living between India and the U.S. has programmed a categorical method of artistic research within my practice — a storage of themes and iconography in Mumbai, and then, a transfer of ideas at the Rhode Island School of Design (RISD). The even rhythm of inspiration and introspection allows me to paint in a consistently reflective space.

Geographically, composing my art in a western environment lends a certain level of enjoyment of making work that rejects the white-gaze as the primary lens, while also being able to contemplate the social remnants of India’s colonial history from afar. At home, retrospection and familiarity gives me the footing to feel security within an idea or visual image as it fits larger themes like standards of beauty, gender, and class.

What role does nostalgia play in your artistic process, and how do you translate personal memories into cultural narratives in your work?

The cultural imagery and narratives I work with exist at the nexus of nostalgia, memory, and the subconscious. For me, their inconceivable nature is what initiates creativity and surrealism that feel both personal and often ‘cultural’. I put ‘cultural’ in quotes because in a Western context, all my memories and perceived narratives are considered cultural by default.

Employing nostalgia requires careful balance, towing the line where authenticity risks duplication, or worse, mischaracterization. I only engage memory when I can vividly recall a space, impression, or design that feels deeply familiar — something recurring in my lived experience.

These recollections often emerge as places, ornaments, or patterns in my paintings. Certain forms stick, becoming instinctive for my hand to recreate without reference. To me it is less about replicating an exact image and more about capturing intrinsic memory in a way that feels honest and unforced.

In hindsight, what, do you think, pulled you towards the exploration of South Asian physical features and beauty in general? Are there any stories or anecdotes that come to mind, growing up?

From a young age, I found immense joy and satisfaction in the act of beautification—whether it was styling my nails and hair, decorating my room, or perfecting my handwriting. I felt the most excited during acts of creativity — making loom bands, playing dress-up, making miniature clay dough sculptures, watching my mother design jewellery, and sneaking between tabs to open ‘Microsoft Paint’ in middle school computer class.

When it came to painting, I naturally gravitated toward beautification as a tool to reconcile with the undesirable. My practice is deeply rooted in personal insecurities that may resonate with other Indian or non-western women but are rarely voiced. I enjoy targeting these vulnerabilities —whether physical, such as body hair and pronounced noses, or emotional, like anxiety and existential unease. Through the use of surrealism, maximalism, and ornamentation, I transform these shared fears into something visually captivating. The interplay between 'ugly' subjects and 'beautiful' presentation creates a sublime visual paradox by which I am most piqued.

What made you go with the caricatured characters with exaggerated features? Do you think the Westernized, colonial gaze of the South Asian people have anything to do with it?

More than a colonial gaze I think my work is affected by a South Asian gaze shaped by coloniality; a legacy of Westernization that permeated notions of physical beauty. From ads promoting “brighter faces” and smoother legs to products for whiter, hairless armpits, these ideals relentlessly pushed whiteness and smaller “feminine” features as aspirational. I recall the normalization of nose clips and painful methods of hair removal introduced to me at 13 all reinforcing the idea that beauty required manipulating the body to align with Western ideals. 

It wasn’t until I left this environment that I began to see these narratives with greater clarity. Distance from those ingrained standards made it essential for me to create work that pushes against them, exploring and celebrating South Asian features and beauty beyond the constraints of colonial influence. It was within this context that the caricatures in my work came to life.

Side profile caricatures are a central tool for me to bridge concept and aesthetic, allowing an emphasis on the features I aim to foreground — big noses, sharp sideburns, and almond-shaped eyes. What begins as a playful distortion of form evolves into a more personal exploration, as the figures in my paintings increasingly become extensions of myself.

What other themes apart from beauty and cultural identity do you try to touch upon through your work? Where's your head at for future projects? Anything in particular that intrigues you?

Like many others, the pandemic had a significant impact on my mental health, shaped by both internal and external factors. One lasting effect has been intense claustrophobia, which also finds its way into my work compositionally. Themes of confinement and enclosed spaces often emerge subconsciously, whether in my rendering of interior environments or modes of transport. 

Looking ahead, my practice is becoming increasingly interdisciplinary. I’m intrigued by the possibility of integrating sculpture, photography, and video into my work. 

One of my ongoing projects involves documenting a series of hair drawings through photography — transforming the intimate, everyday act of showering into an exploration of discomfort and revulsion as it relates to hair in our culture. In the privacy of the bathroom, strands of hair shed during a shower become tools of creation rather than discarded waste. By arranging these strands into intricate drawings on the bathroom wall, I interrogate visual norms: Why is hair in some areas of our bodies viewed as unacceptable, while hair on our heads is celebrated? Why are strands of hair off our body so unpleasant in comparison to strands of hair on our body? Why do we marginalize the visceral and the natural as undesirable or grotesque?

Follow Paree here.

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