Subodh Gupta: The Return of the Native

IT ISN’T UNUSUAL for artists to build their practice on memories of their formative years, but only few can match the sweeping trajectory of Subodh Gupta’s career. His innovative reimagining of household utensils and other objects of quotidian use into grandiose works of art have brought him a long way from a childhood spent in a railway town of Bihar. Now, after decades of achieving national and international renown, he is making his way back to his roots with The Way Home at the Bihar Museum in Patna, supported by Nature Morte.

“I wanted to honour the place, people and experiences that have shaped me, which include my family, seat of education, and Khagaul, the railway town where I grew up,” says Gupta. He does so admirably with this exhibition of 20 life-sized sculp­tures, and 10 paintings made between the years 2003 and 2024.

“Art has been my constant companion, guiding me through both personal and professional challenges,” says the artist. “It has taught me resilience; it has offered a space where I could express everything freely. I believe real growth comes from remaining authentic to who you are,” says Gupta who honed his skills at the College of Art in Patna before moving to Delhi. Though trained in painting, he uses a variety of mediums in­cluding sculptures, photographs, digital art, performances and more. For many of these, he relies on ubiquitous objects like kitchen utensils made of stainless steel, cupboards, equipment, tools and other ordinary items that one is quick to discard once their purpose has been served. These objects transform under his gaze as his life-sized sculptures question the social, political and economic realities of Gupta’s home state in particular and contemporary India in general.

Anjani Kumar Singh, the Director General of the Bihar Museum and curator of the show, has been privy to his artistic and intellectual journey up close, having commissioned one of Gupta’s first ever works exploring the theme of Bihar when he was chief secretary of the state over a decade ago. This 26-foot-high cactus made with basic household items was displayed in a public garden, and according to Singh, it “symbolised that in spite of all odds, Bihar is growing and flourishing.”

The Bihar Museum—itself a representation of the confluence of tradition and modernity—is an apt choice for the exhibition. Gupta’s close association with the building dates to its incep­tion, as the museum’s showstopper piece located in the open courtyard of the building is Yantra—a massive circular installa­tion made with washing machines, irons and other electronic household items that show the transition of Bihar from a rural economy to an urban one.

“I have closely observed Subodh Gupta’s growth as an artist over the last 20 years. His pride in being a Bihari resonates with me, and I also appreciate his proficiency in various mediums of art. He is as comfortable with painting as he is with sculptures and he uses technology in interesting ways,” says Singh. The Way Home, spread across two halls of the museum, is an extension of this relationship between artist and curator.

Tasveer, the first work that greets the viewer in the larger hall, best represents the exhibition’s theme. It consists of three massive steel plates or thalis, each of which contains different elements that collectively define what it means to be a Bihari in today’s context. The first, covered with household utensils is a depiction of the ordinariness of their life; the second, coated in oil with numerous coins swimming in it, acts as an emblem of their aspirations to move up in the world; and the third, holding a variety of shoes, denotes the themes of migration and reverse migration when people move from the state in search of better economic opportunities, and return when they feel the clarion call of home, as during the first few cruel months of Covid.

“Bihar has changed significantly since I grew up there,” explains the artist. “The pace of development, especially in infra­structure and lifestyle, has accelerated, and these changes mirror the broader transformations in India.” His work reflects this shift by capturing the evolving landscape of the middle-class experi­ence, migration, and modernity while remaining grounded in familiar, everyday objects. The contrast between tradition and change is a recurring theme of the exhibition.

I find beauty in everyday objects and routines, and these humble items tell powerful stories about who we are and where we come from, says Subodh Gupta

Share this on

A penchant for preserving tradition is visible in works such as Thik Paas Me, Small Village in Mountain, School and There Is Always Cinema (I). The first of these is a casting of lifelike dough half-covered with a realistic gamcha or cotton cloth, which rests on a steel utensil just as it would in many a Bihari home. The second shows a derelict tree adorned with utensils, growing out of a cupboard lying on the ground. This piece reflects Gupta’s musings on decay and preservation.

The 40 thalis placed on the floor in front of corresponding chowkis or low-lying stools which people traditionally sit on to eat, in School; are tokens of Gupta’s childhood memories, made more poignant by being modelled on the chowki that belonged to his father. The close setting of this artwork reflects the shared communal experience of eating mid-day meals at school. A similar communal practice is highlighted with the film projector cast in brass and chrome-plating which represents Gupta’s memories of watching English movies in the cinema with his mother every weekend. He credits this cherished tradi­tion with pushing him towards theatre and eventually art.

Gupta’s Gehri Neend is another eye-catching work. Here, a large human skull made from utensils rests on a lush velvet pil­low with gold trimmings, referencing the Hindu belief of the purpose of life being to achieve moksha. The skull figurine, so commonly seen garlanding the necks of sadhus and Lord Shiva devotees, is an apt symbol for the peaceful deep sleep of death, with the velvet pillow emphasising the luxury associated with this state of being.

THIS ESOTERIC PIECE aside, most works on display are exclusively connected to Bihar and its rural economy, specifically relating to Gupta’s journey as an artist. Singh points to the series of Portraits as a tangible example of this. Its central figures are the shoe polish boxes that were common sights in streets and stations till a few years ago, as young boys and men attempted to eke out an honest living through them. Adorning a wall by themselves, these boxes with shoelaces spilling out from their sides take on life-like proportions through a play of light and shadow. He says, “I find beauty in everyday objects and routines, and these humble items tell powerful stories about who we are and where we come from.”

Apart from offering a stark commentary on ground realities, many works also seem to serve a nostalgic purpose. Inside Me showcases a black earth­en pot filled to the brim with utensils, literally allud­ing to the fulcrum of Gupta’s artistic practice. His childhood home is the inspiration behind Mosam, where slate roof tiles are used effectively to depict the importance of functionality over form in the architecture of rural Indian. The sepia-tinted draw of nostalgia is most evident in the film I Go Home Every Single Day. It captures scenes from Gupta’s ancestral home, giving the viewer a glimpse of the inner and outer courtyard, rooms and corridors.

Modernity too finds a place in this exhibition as Gupta explores new mediums, materials and mech­anisms. However, it isn’t only their reflective quality that makes items from the kitchen so essential to his practice. The artist is also an avid cook, likening the experience of creating meals for his family and larger audiences to performance art. His painting Safar is therefore an allusion to the process of creating these colourful, delicious meals, which begins with the black-grey smokiness of the cooking fire and pro­ceeds to well-plated food in various stages of being eaten and enjoyed.

Gupta’s love of nature and the flora and fauna of his home state shines through in the delicate life-sized sculpture called Guccha which shows a bucket of flowers constructed from utensils. It is also seen in the series of paintings called Come out here where the roses have opened. Let soul and world meet. The jaunty colours and merry themes of the paintings are testament to the simplicity of Gupta’s childhood.

The varied themes explored in the exhibition find collec­tive meaning in Bihari, which is the only piece to be borrowed from a private collection. In this self-portrait, Gupta places himself amidst a haphazard smattering of cow dung—a sacred material with manifold purpose in a villager’s life. His calm demeanour is offset by the running of a constant ticker announcing the name of the painting in Hindi, reflecting his pride in being a native of Bihar.

Gupta’s Bihari identity is as much his professional calling card as it is a state of being. He explains, “Bihar is where my roots are, and through Bihar, I see both India’s rapid changes and a raw, unfiltered reality that connects me to my past. There is still much to do in the state in terms of education and equality yet, artistically it embodies a resilience and cultural heritage that is only recently being seen. That depth and contradiction continually inspire my work.”

(The Way Home is on display at the Bihar Museum, Patna, till February 15, 2025)

About The Author

Noor Anand Chawla

•