Ladakh: Magic Mountain

WHEN SHE’S NOT wielding a hockey stick as a member of the women’s national ice hockey team, Noor Jahan, in her early 30s, sits in her studio adjusting the microscope with her hands, squinting through the machine to look at centuries-old thangka paintings. When she’s not practicing on the ground with the other team members for Asiad Games (to be held next year), the young goalkeeper, usually called Noor or Noorie in her circles, can be found wandering inside caves and ruins, studying 14th-century wall paintings in remote areas of Ladakh. Noor (she prefers to be called by only her first name) studied art conservation at the National Museum Institute of the History of Art, Conservation and Museology, Delhi, before returning to Leh in 2017. She opened Shesrig, her art conservatory, in a 200-year-old restored home in Old Town of Leh, around three years ago.

Today, Noor is rated as one of Leh’s leading art conservators and researchers. Besides restoring old paintings, she and her team of four-five local experts, including an in-house master artist specialising in the religious painted scrolls on cloth, create contemporary thangkas using traditional techniques of mineral and plant-based pigments along with the dust of semi-precious stones sourced from Europe, Japan, besides, of course, regions of Ladakh. Recently, a tourist from Switzerland asked Noor to create the six symbols of longevity; only, instead of the traditional figure of ‘the old man of long life’, she asked her to make a female figure thus allowing for a contemporary take within the conventional art’s framework. While many of the private collectors from the Himalayan region are reaching out to Noor to restore their thangkas that are hundreds of years old, many of her patrons, mostly from Europe, are reaching her studio for dedicated masterclasses in the art form. Local tourist companies doing heritage art walks through the restored Old Town are taking tourists to visit Noor’s art conservation studio for an even greater understanding of the arts scene in Leh.

“With the development in the region, a lot of traditional art forms that I grew up witnessing were vanishing. It’s a reason I came back to Leh,” says Noor, who quips that with her degree she could’ve worked anywhere in the world. She adds that the restoration work of Old Town area through the initiatives of Tibet Heritage Fund, Achi Association, German Embassy, among others, has allowed Leh to emerge as an emerging art destination, as the area today teems with art studios, galleries, workshops, and residencies. She—along with many other artists that Open spoke to—credits The Ladakh Arts and Media Organisation (LAMO) as a pioneer in providing a much-needed platform to contemporary artists by way of grants, exhibition spaces, archival material, and seminars focussing on the region’s material, visual, and performance arts.

The last two years have witnessed corporates investing in restoration work and funding art residencies and fellow­ships. An increasing number of young, contemporary artists are returning to their homeland to create an artistic practice that draws upon memories of their homeland. Hotels and homestays such as Grand Dragon, Chospa, and Apricot Tree, among others, are investing in art. An increasing number of exhibitions in residencies such as Palay House (restored last year through resources by multi-arts organisation Arthshila); the uptick in public art commissions, is also leading to many travellers directly getting in touch with artists and commissioning them for affordable yet valuable artworks. What’s more, many of these artists, through their work, are honouring their land, putting a spin on mythological tales and juxtaposing them to have conversations on topics such as gender politics, climate change, and cultural heritage, while also engaging with indigenous communities. Ladakh’s surreal terrain (craggy, brown mountains towering over green valleys, crystal rivers, and blue skies) has made it a preferred destina­tion for sa Ladakh, Asia’s biggest land art festival.

Jigmat Norbu of Jigmat Couture, a leading brand that’s created an international platform by showcasing contemporary Ladakhi garments made from age-old, sustainable practices, defines his work as “wearable art”. Jigmat Couture has a textile museum in Leh with 200 indigenous textile pieces on display. “I want to give a platform to other, like-minded individuals,” he says, talking about his upcoming artist residency later this year.

Like Norbu and his wife, Jigmat Wangmo, both NIFT-ians from Delhi, sculptor and painter Chemat Dorjey, also returned to Leh. Dorjey did an MA in Fine Arts at Banaras Hindu Uni­versity before returning to Leh. He recently finished a commis­sioned bronze sculpture for the local government, his second such work. Dorjey runs an art studio, Spindle, in Old Town, Leh, which is used for exhibitions, workshops, and art-related discussions. His works, be it in his paintings or in his sculp­tures, often feature a ‘spindle’, an ode to the traditional Ladakhi homes where one finds this wooden textile tool used by women to spin and twist fabrics to create yarn. Dorjey is one of the many first-generation artists returning to the region after studying in art schools across India. “There used to be hardly any platforms for artists. But in the last two-three years alone, dozens of dedicated art studios, institutions, and a growing number of artist fellowships and residences have come up,” says Dorjey who recently purchased another workshop near Leh to work on some of his forthcoming commissions.

Monisha Ahmed, co-founder, LAMO, picturesquely located below Leh Palace, and housed in a restored 17th-century home in Old Town, says that art in the region is flourishing. “Be it visual arts, fashion, architec­ture, music, we are seeing the engagement grow among people, not just within the region but also from those coming from outside,” says Ahmed. According to her, festivals such as sa Ladakh along with initiatives such as the Himalayan Knot Art Residency by Royal Enfield,  point to how outsiders are viewing the potential of art in Ladakh.

She’s right. In the last two years, particularly, Royal Enfield, has accelerated its initiatives in the art and culture domain. The multinational motorcycle manufacturing company has so far invested ₹35 crore this year in the Himalayan region for various art-led initiatives to offer grants and fellowships, while also collaborating with sa Ladakh and UNESCO to work with 100 Himalayan communities to document and research its intangible cultural heritage. It is working with cooperatives  such as Looms of Ladakh to revive tradition­al weaves and handlooms practices and commercially sell products through textile projects such as Himalayan Knot for which it has tied up with leading brands and designers. Last year, it began Himalayan Fellowship with New Delhi-based Foundation of Indian Contemporary Arts (FICA), to award anywhere between ₹3-4 lakh to various creative art prac­titioners from the Himalayan region, including Ladakh.

Through its collaboration with LAMO, Royal Enfield is commissioning works by young artists such as Dorjey and Jigmet Angmo (hailed as the first graphic novelist of Leh) to promote public art in the region. It is also engaging with local architects to renovate dilapidated structures. Royal Enfield Camp Kharu, a green pit-stop at village Kharu, which opened two months ago, is a case in point. It was a dilapidated washroom run by local authorities that was renovated using vernacular architectural methods and changed into a stunning café with glass windows for uninterrupted views of the Zanskar range and Indus River. The café, which serves authentic Ladakhi cuisine to visitors, is run by a self-help group comprising six local women. The place also has a dedicated exhibition space besides clean, pay-and-use toilet facilities. Says Bidisha Dey, executive director, Eicher Group Foundation, Royal Enfield’s CSR arm: “While Indi­an contemporary art has long focused on the work of artists from major cities and towns of India, we are now seeing emerging artists from border and regional areas, many of whom channel their culture and history to inform their work, thus providing perspectives, techniques and wisdom from regions that have been kept away from mainstream attention.”

Angmo’s striking landscape at Camp Kharu is done in a rich colour palette of blues, pinks, and browns and hangs on the first floor of the cafe. The work, which took the artist seven months to complete, comprises four canvases totalling 28 ft x 5 ft. Capturing stupas, prayer walls, rock carvings, shrines, and other Ladakhi cultural markers, the work focuses on built heritage even as it captures various regions, including Kargil’s 16th-century Chiktan Palace, Namgyal Palace, Old Town of Leh, besides the Indus River, monasteries, and other areas in­habited by nomadic pastoralists. Angmo says that the region’s art scene, especially in the last two years, has become exciting. “I used to get bored when I came here in 2016 after finishing my art studies in Delhi. Now, I have no time given the number of commissioned artworks by corporates, owners of hotels and homestays, along with tourists who are routinely stopping in my home studio,” she says. The artist’s currency has risen in the last few years — from selling works for thousands of rupees, she’s now charging in lakhs. She’s also working on larger pieces while experimenting with tapestry done with leftover yarn and wool along with doing landscapes in lush acrylic colours on traditional wooden tsampa bowls. She says that having art in public places such as Camp Kharu’s green pit stop, hotels, cafes, homestays, airports, and even highways allows people to familiarise themselves with works of contemporary artists.

No conversation about contemporary art in Leh, particularly public art, is complete without mentioning Skarma Sonam Tashi, one of the rising stars in the circuit. In his late 20s, Tashi, a student of art from Santiniketan, gained recognition when he participated in the first edition of sa Ladakh in 2023 following which he showed his work at India Art Fair earlier this year. He won Hyundai’s art grant around the same time, later visiting Baroda as part of a residency pro­gramme hosted by art incubator and gallery Vis-à-Vis. Tashi’s works are mostly site installations resembling Ladakhi moun­tainscapes made with reusable material, including cardboard (used traditionally in the ceilings of Ladakhi homes), papier maché, clay, and other sustainable materials to talk about the fragility of the ecosystem. “I think people are noticing Leh as an arts destination because many of us are physically returning to our homes, getting inspired by our traditions, and creating a visual dialogue through our art practice,” he says, adding that the much-needed platforms through an increasing number of grants and residencies offered within the region are leading artists to show their work to the world at large.

The artist who now charges lakhs of rupees (“I barely charged in hundreds before,” he says) has witnessed a staggering rise in barely four years of his artistic practice. He confirms that private collectors are calling him to create his mountainscape installations with more durable materials for their homes.

Raki Nikahetiya, co-founder of sa Ladakh, agrees that the land art festival, which turns the conversation on ecological practices and adaptive reuse of materials, has contributed to the increasing interest in contemporary art emerging from this region. This year’s edition of sa Ladakh saw double the number of artists from last year along with international collaborations such as the Vienna-based museum in progress (written in lower case) for its raising flags series that saw the participation of global contemporary artists including senior artist Shilpa Gupta. Some of the other compelling works included Himalayan Knot Art Residency winner, Chennai-based Aditi Jain’s textile work juxtaposing the actual landscape of the area with weaves depicting Leh’s earth and sky. There was also Infinity in a Box by inter-disciplinary textile artists Ikshit Pande and Jasmeet Kaur, made from silk and repurposed textile waste, where the fabric was buffeted by gusty winds atop a hilly area over­looking Shanti Stupa. Spread over 22 acres of land in what used to be a dumping ground of sorts, sa Ladakh is a rich example of how communities can come together to clean and repurpose land for the sake of public art.

Nikahetiya says that this year he was getting calls from people who wanted to coincide their trip to Leh with the festival dates. “There have been more collaborations, platforms, and initiatives in the last couple of years, and from the start, the response has been encouraging,” he says.

Ahmed of LAMO who came to work on her PhD on Ladakhi textiles almost three decades ago, and later set up one of the first organisations for contemporary arts, feels that it’ll be interest­ing to watch the rise of the art movement in Leh, especially in the next decade when many of the first-generation artists who’ve started their practice a couple of years ago will see their currency rise. On her part, Ahmed is personally collecting many of the works of these contemporary artists. Nikahetiya says it makes sense to invest in contemporary art from the region given that the value is set to rise. “More than the price,” he says, “the conversation around art, especially concerning climate and sustainable issues, will bring people to interact directly with these young artists.”

Going by the increasing interest in Leh’s contemporary art scene, we couldn’t agree more.

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