Queer artist carves a new world of hope

On a lonely sandbar across the Ganges River—far from the crowded ghats of Varanasi—a picturesque scene unfolds. Amid the mists rising from the river, you can see a small wedding ring, a white horse, and two characters dressed in sculptural gowns adorned with flowers. It’s as if you’ve stumbled upon an intimate moment, shared by people whose desires are not understood by a society bound by heterosexual norms. The two queer characters seem to create their own rituals of togetherness.

This is a frame from the 2024 film. Hazaro Saalon ka SapnaOr A thousand years of dreamsDebashish Paul, which is being shown as part of his first solo piece — of the same name as the film — at Emami Art in Kolkata. The 30-year-old artist has been constantly grappling with the challenges of queer identity and desire, embedded in rigid societal dictates. Paul, who hails from Phulia village in West Bengal’s Nadia district and now lives in Varanasi, explores this complex subject from a deeply autobiographical perspective. “Although the film was made in May, I have been pondering these thoughts for a long time. I come from a small village, and so does my partner, who hails from a gaon in Uttar Pradesh,” Paul explains. “Both our families don’t understand queerness, so we were never able to come out to them about our identity or relationship. There is constant pressure to get married.”

When the artist moved to Varanasi to pursue his master’s at Banaras Hindu University, he didn’t have any queer friends, and as a result, there wasn’t much awareness of other queer experiences. During a residency at 1 Shanthi Road Studio in Bengaluru in 2022, Paul learned about dating apps and met other people who identified as queer. “When I came back to Varanasi, I continued to make friends through apps. And many of them—who were from villages and had come to the city for education—talked about their fear of revealing their identity to their family members. Some of them had come to terms with the idea of marrying a girl. That seemed like a huge problem to me—something that would destroy the lives of queer men, their partners, and the women they marry,” he explains.

Also read: Life Shaped by Water Flow Through the Ages

The film seeks to reflect this suffocation and the need for a more fluid and inclusive society. The performance in the film was intentionally shot on an isolated sandbar. It symbolized the characters’ creation of a new world, free from the constraints of expectation. “I always base my performances on nature, which is more fluid and inclusive,” he adds.

The exhibition, centered around the film, also features performance photographs, drawings, and sculptures. Mario D’Souza, a curator-writer based in Goa, Kochi, and New Delhi, writes in his notes: “Paul’s drawings abstract the body and its enveloping garments into stretched, fantastical bodies that are human, animal, limb, and material. Using material used in religious sculpture and as ornament, Paul repositions and encodes these outcasts as sacred.”

See the whole image

Paul, who hails from Phulia village in Nadia district of West Bengal and is currently based in Varanasi, looks at this complex subject from a deeply autobiographical perspective

The “sculptural” element is an integral part of the artist’s practice. Coming from a family of potters, he grew up watching his father transform clay into beautiful objects. In addition, taking part in Kirtans, jatra AND shut up (performed with dolls), he absorbed these elements into his performance style. He uses fluid textile forms and sculptural dress that defy any gender norms.

Some of these costumes from the film have been mounted on stands, “almost like prescient figures, free from the wall,” says D’Souza, who curates the exhibition. “The drawings are like collages, using threads, porcelain shells and more. They are also anthropomorphic in a way, and there seems to be an ambiguity between the god and the beast. He has painted them in such a way that the figures seem to have been forged in fire,” adds D’Souza.

There are many ways to read the images and the film itself, he says. “The two characters find only a lonely sandbar as their own space. It’s not lush, but barren—the only kind that seems accessible to queer people. It’s also a critique of the institution of marriage, which is important given the dialogue on marriage equality in recent years,” he says. “Paul weaves together diverse ideas, such as the longer histories of places like Varanasi, personal and family experiences, leading a double life, rituals, and more.” The artist’s strength lies in his simplicity in approaching such complex ideas. According to D’Souza, he is not enmeshed in the weight of queer theory and discourse. He approaches it purely from his own experience and the experience of those around him. “That’s what makes Paul’s practice so unique. He is an impulsive artist, creating work as he sees and feels, and the body is his primary medium,” he says.

Also Read: Lounge Loves: Spud Brothers, Pakistani Dramas and More

Paul agrees, and believes that the body is also a sculpture. In this film, as these strange figures stand against the isolated landscape, they look otherworldly. “It’s my way of sculpting a new character and identity—one that seeks acceptance from the culture and rituals from which it emerged. I use natural rubber to create multiple layers. It gives a sense of heaviness to this skin-like creature. But even in that heaviness, there are hopes and dreams,” he says.

At Gallery 2 and 3, Emami Art, Kolkata, until October 26, Monday to Saturday, 11:00 a.m. and 7:00 p.m.