Torn Apart

Aditi Raychoudhury. Torn Apart. Gouache. 2018
Aditi Raychoudhury. Torn Apart. Gouache. 2018

Separating families is a violation of international law and one of the worst kinds of abuse, and its happening right now in our southern border. So, why is a family willing to flee their homeland and risk it all? Nobody wants to leave their country of birth and extended family and friends behind and risk it all unless they fear for the safety of their family in their own homeland, and hope for a better life in the land they were told would welcome the tired, the poor, the homeless, the wretched refuse and the tempest tossed huddled masses yearning to breathe free. And here we are, not living up to that promise. I wanted to capture a family at its most tender and vulnerable moment – the agony in the hearts of the parents who may never see who they love the most and the bewilderment of a child as to why she can’t be with those who love her the most.

Proceeds from the sales of this poster support DreamCorps, a social justice accelerator founded by Van Jones that advances economic, environmental, and criminal justice solutions.

Save Climate Refugees

Aditi Raychoudhury. Save Climate Refugees. 2020. Adobe Illustrator.
Aditi Raychoudhury. Save Climate Refugees. 2020. Adobe Illustrator.

Shefali scrambles through her day cooking and cleaning homes in Delhi. It’s backbreaking work that starts at the break of dawn and doesn’t end till well past sundown. But, she didn’t always live this life of a lowly paid, classless migrant worker struggling to make ends meet in a large confounding city. In fact, she and her husband owned land, a store and a fulfilling life in the Sundarbans. But one day, the hungry tide gobbled up their land – taking with it their home, their middle class life and worst of all – their dignity. Her heartbroken husband tried to find work in his beloved Sunderbans but was ultimately resigned to managing a tiny shop in a tiny scrap of land in the Sundarbans, despite the knowledge that this too shall be fodder for a now hostile sea. 

But such is the magnetic draw of the Sundarbans, which I visited a few years ago. This unique region that is now ravenous for land is also great at stealing your heart. So profound is its tranquil beauty. 

Shefali’s story of loss and displacement is just one out of numerous others who have been rendered homeless by the rising sea.

The Sundarbans Mangroves ecoregion on the coast is the world’s largest mangrove ecosystem, with 20,400 square kilometres (7,900 sq mi). Sundarban (সুন্দরবন) in Bengali means “beautiful forest”, named after the dominant mangrove species Heritiera fomes which is locally known as sundari (beautiful).

The Sundarbans are located in what used to be my beloved ancestral homeland of undivided Bengal that was partitioned into present day West Bengal and Bangladesh in 1947. Apart from having once been a sanctuary to the refugees of the bloody partition of India, the Sundarbans is a UNESCO world heritage site and home to the rare Royal Bengal Tigers, Gangetic and Irabati dolphins and other species unique to this region. But human development and climate change with its sea level and surface temperature rise, severe hurricanes and increased salinity could lead to the destruction of 75 percent of these mangroves as the sundari trees are exceptionally sensitive to salinity. This poses a threat not just for the survival of the indigenous flora and fauna but also for the protective biological shield the mangroves form against cyclones and tsunamis, putting the surrounding communities at a devastating risk. The submergence of land mass has already rendered up to 6,000 families homeless and around 70,000 people are now threatened with the same. 

In an ironic twist of fate, the progeny of those who found refuge in this bucolic setting during the partition, are now becoming climate refugees with no place to call home. While we can’t stop the juggernaut of climate change from destroying life as we know it, policies within the GREEN NEW DEAL could potentially provide solutions to reduce the impact of climate change and restore a life of dignity for climate refugees.

Pashmina by Nidhi Chanani: An In-Depth Look At a Misnomer

cover

I have been hesitant to write this, even though it’s been a while since I read the book. After all, Pashmina by Nidhi Chanani answers the call for diverse books. For so many American Indian kids, it is exciting to see themselves and parts of what seems to be an authentic India in a graphic novel. The book has done so very well that it is being made into a movie by Netflix. I am happy for the success that has come to its creator Nidhi Chanani.

Pashmina, is a graphic novel about, Priyanka, a teenage girl whose mother emigrated from India years ago, leaving her father behind. Priyanka is eager to learn about her father and her Indian heritage, but her mother refuses to discuss it. When Pri’ finds an old “pashmina”, she is magically transported to the India of her dreams whenever she dons it, and the shawl takes on the role of a sootradhaar (a person or object that is integral to the holding the narrative thread), as she finds out more about her mother and India while tracing the history of the shawl.

Even though I know that I am taking a pretty big risk by critiquing a very successful graphic novel, I feel compelled to stay true to the culture and the people the book and the shawl ought to and seeks to represent. Firstly, I feel deeply disappointed by the many inaccuracies in the book, especially since it’s written by an Indian American. I also feel disappointed by the lack of due diligence on the part of her agent, publisher and reviewers, not a single one of whom checked the book for authenticity. I find the lack of research rather perplexing in an age when a whole universe of information is no further away than a few taps of a keyboard. From the diversity panels I have attended, and posts by organizations such as We Need Diverse Books, I was under the impression that the tide was turning towards representing minority cultures in the US with greater accuracy, but that still seems quite a ways away.

In our desperate call for diverse books, let’s not forget the enormous responsibility we bear to finally change the misconceptions we seem to accept when it comes to non-eurocentric cultures, and truly speak for the silent populations implied in those books. Some of the visual representations of the places that Pri visits in India are also inaccurate. I am writing this because I feel obliged to transmit truths about India to my daughter and others Indian Americans like her, starting with why this book should never have been called Pashmina in the first place.

The bright red shawl unfurled on the cover is as far away from the exquisite and painstakingly made Pashmina as America is from India. Pashmina is accorded a GI (Geographical Indication) which is the equivalent of the appellation d’origine contrôlée (AOC). Now, imagine this egregious error in a coming of age graphic novel called Champagne, where a French American girl is tracing her roots and finds that the grapes for Champagne are picked in Britanny, processed in Burgundy, and bottled in Paris. Would that pass muster? So why do we not accord the same respect and scrutiny to cultures of color?

Pashmina: GI.

The GI on a Pashmina

Livemint reports that “Pashmina, a very delicate cashmere wool from the pashmina goat found in the higher regions of Kashmir, has become a much exploited word”. Pashmina comes from the Persian word, “made from wool”. The wool comes from the same breed of goat that gives us cashmere. The soft underfur is seasonally shed and traditionally collected by local villagers in Kashmir – a conflict ridden state nestled in the high mountains of northern India. It is harvested by combing as opposed to shearing. All steps from combing (removing impurities and guard hair, and aligning fibres) and spinning, to weaving and finishing, are traditionally carried out by hand by highly specialized craftsmen and women based in and around Srinagar, Kashmir. Pashmina fibres are finer and thinner than cashmere and the quality and price of the finished shawl is dependent on the fineness of the fiber and the skill with which it is woven.

weaver

A Pasmina weaver and his traditional loom.

The US FTC doesn’t recognize the labeling term “Pashmina”. However, it does encourage manufacturers and sellers of products to explain what they mean by the term. I wish the author had also felt responsible to do so, given that it is an extremely prized and endangered product produced by highly skilled, underpaid, craftsmen who continue to create magic on their looms, despite often having lost family members in the conflict. Just Google/Wikipedia “Pashmina”. The wealth of information on why this product is not a synonym for any shawl will become more than apparent. 

I understand that setting a story for children against a highly complex decades old conflict was not the author’s intention. So, why name the story after a shawl that it just isn’t? Why take the reader through a long-winded tour of places that this shawl would, at best, be sold at? 

Not only does a story around a shawl that is a Pashmina completely ignore Kashmir, we run into further set of misrepresentations starting with Pri’s aunt saying that the Pashmina might be made of Sualkuchi silk. Sualkuchi is a town in Assam in the northeastern part of India. It is a center for manufacturing different types of Assamese silks (muga, pat and eri) that are eventually woven into gorgeous Mekhela-Chadors (for women) and Gamosas (for men). The patterns woven into them evoke the history and geography of Assam, which is pretty much the case with most Indian motifs. These silks, too, bear a GI.

 

 

However, in the book the Sualkuchi factory is in Nagpur in central India, and the shawl is still called a Pashmina.

 

In the book we travel from Nagpur to Warangal (known for its carpets) in Telangana in southern India (nearly 2500 kms away from where Pashminas are actually made) where the shawl is embroidered by Rohini Mitra, (a Bengali), who could (in the real India) potentially be a weaver of Taants, Jaamdaanis and Baluchuris in specific areas of Bengal or Bangladesh, but never of a Pashmina! These sarees, too, bear GIs.

The moment we start using proper nouns, not just in India, but my guess is any ancient culture, we need to start being specific, just as the moment Indians hear the last name  Mitra, they will know that he or she is Bengali.

Even the UNCTAD, WTO and UNESCO have argued that the crafts form a substantial part of a country’s cultural heritage and the skills related to the crafts affiliated to a community must be protected in the areas of their origin.

Map of places labels

The location of Pashmina production vs. the places the author assigns Pashmina to.

Outside of this primary misrepresentation, there are many others, such as women not being allowed to drive cars, the slums of Jadavpur, the visual depiction of New Market and more. Jadavpur is a middle to upper middle class neighborhood and home to a reputed university. One doesn’t have to go to Jadavpur to search for poverty in India. It hits you smack in the face the second you step out of the confines of your middle-class or affluent gated community.

There are American Indians, like Jhumpa Lahiri and Sanjay Patel, whose attention to detail and authenticity are truly remarkable. The Interpreter of Maladies takes me right back to summers spent at my grandma’s, and Sanjay Patel’s jaw-droppingly accurate depiction of the pitted stone statue in Sanjay’s Super Team looks like it’s been transported right out of a temple in India. In the Google documentary, Pedaling for Peace, producer Fhay Arceo, ensured that the edited version of the film was accurately subtitled by hiring a native Hindi speaker, even though the entire raw footage had been professionally subtitled. She even made sure that the Hindi script one can barely see as it floats around at lightning speed is accurate.

Why then did Nidhi Chanani (nor her agent or publisher or reviewers) not follow suit in starting with perhaps questioning the accuracy of shawl she depicts and whose name the book bears? 

Are we so desperately hungry that the creative pipeline and their gatekeepers feel justified in feeding us anything that simply confirms and reinforces the Indian stereotypes and familiarities of elephants, peacocks, samosas, paisley motifs, disenfranchised women and a few Indian Hindi words scattered throughout a book? Yes, we do need diverse books, but we also we need them to be true, so that children, like my daughter, don’t have to grow up with misinformation about their heritage.

 

Women’s March. January 20, 2018

First, we marched. Now, are you ready to run? Print this 11 x 14 image of  The United Faces of America for Women’s March 2018  and print it off your printer. Take it to the streets and claim Justice and Equality for All ! Please spread the word. Thank you!

Aditi Raychoudhury. The United Faces of America (Color). 2017.
Aditi Raychoudhury. The United Faces of America (Color). 2017.

 

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Agitprop – Part Deux

The United Faces of America. 2017. Image for 3-color screenprint.

The United Faces of America. 2017. Image for 3-color screenprint.
The United Faces of America. 2017. Image for 3-color screenprint.

Reduced the original image

Aditi Raychoudhury. Resist. 2016. Adobe Illustrator.
Aditi Raychoudhury. Resist. 2016. Adobe Illustrator.

 

for a 3-color screenprint that I will be making 100 copies of as part of the Agitprop residency sponsored by the Compound Gallery.

The Compound Gallery is funding this Residency out of its own funding to help artist create art with traditional printmaking techniques (e.g., letterpress, silkscreen, etching, relief, photopolymer plates) and building a bridge between printmaking’s historic relationship to generating social/cultural/political awareness and contemporary social media/online forums. If you want to support what they do by either donating ink, paper, supplies, or monetary funds, you can do so by clicking HERE.  They are fiscally sponsored via Fractured Atlas, a 501(c)(3) public charity. Contributions for the purposes of The Compound Gallery are tax-deductible to the extent permitted by law.

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Grateful for the Agitprop Residency at the Compound Gallery

Aditi Raychoudhury. Resist. 2016. Adobe Illustrator.

I am grateful to the Compound Gallery for offering me a spot in their Agitprop Residency program 

What is Agitprop? Its Printing for a cause. Thinking. Making. Disseminating. 1 individual, 1 month, 100 Prints.

I will be printing the United Faces of America as a 3-color screenprint over the next month.

 

Aditi Raychoudhury. Resist. 2016. Adobe Illustrator.
Aditi Raychoudhury. Resist. 2016. Adobe Illustrator.

 

 

The Compound Gallery is funding this Residency out of its own funding to help artist create art with traditional printmaking techniques (e.g., letterpress, silkscreen, etching, relief, photopolymer plates) and building a bridge between printmaking’s historic relationship to generating social/cultural/political awareness and contemporary social media/online forums. If you want to support what they do by either donating ink, paper, supplies, or monetary funds, you can do so by clicking HERE.  They are fiscally sponsored via Fractured Atlas, a 501(c)(3) public charity. Contributions for the purposes of The Compound Gallery are tax-deductible to the extent permitted by law.

My poster at the same show with art by Lawrence Ferlinghetti sold for 350$. Double Gulp!

My screen-printed poster the was up for auction at the Art Auction With Impact along with work by Lawrence Ferlinghetti show this past Saturday (22nd October, 2016) in San Francisco sold for 350$. You can have it for 30$ 🙂 (plus shipping). I can give you a shipping discount if you are local.

Aditi Raychoudhury. Tree of Life. 2014. Limited Edition Screenprint.
Aditi Raychoudhury. Tree of Life. 2014. Limited Edition Screenprint.

 

My poster at the same show with art by Lawrence Ferlinghetti. Gulp!

I have a little limited edition screen-printed poster up for auction along with work by Lawrence Ferlinghetti at the Art Auction With Impact show this Saturday (22nd October, 2016) in San Francisco. If you can’t afford work by Ferlinghetti, you will definitely be able to afford work by me. Check it out! Respond via Facebook. Buy tickets via Eventbrite.

 

Aditi Raychoudhury. Tree of Life. 2014. Limited Edition Screenprint.
Aditi Raychoudhury. Tree of Life. 2014. Limited Edition Screenprint.

Celebrate Spring and Earth Day all month long with “Yes to Trees”!

Aditi Raychoudhury. Yes on Trees (for Vote the Environment Campaign for Patagonia). 2014. Adobe Illustrator.
Aditi Raychoudhury. Yes on Trees (for Vote the Environment Campaign for Patagonia). 2014. Adobe Illustrator.

 

Support the environment while adding some fresh art to your home by purchasing this poster* I made for “Vote the Environment“- a campaign sponsored by Patagonia, the Creative Action Network and the Canary Project.

It fits into a standard 12″ x 12″ or 16″ x 16″ frame, and can be purchased for as low as 22$.

So, buy a poster,* spread the word, and, think about the planet when you vote to choose your candidate for the Presidency!

* 30% of profits from sales will go towards supporting the project, 30% to HeadCount, a non-partisan organization that uses the power of music to register voters and promote participation in democracy, and 40% to me.