Jhuma Dutta

My practice is informed by my experiences of loss, interactions, and how I see the world of dislocation. I assemble memories on my canvas by sticking stitching or weaving them on a loom or frame with everyday materials. I intend to bring my nostalgic memories, thoughts, and bonds: objects and materials to represent my diasporic silent story. Each location has its potential, especially for those far away and living elsewhere or away from their homeland.

As an immigrant, I have experienced upheaval, displacement, and hybridisation. Informed by Art Povera and artist Alberto Burri and how Chandan Shafiqul Kabir uses materials and materiality has inspired me to use and choose textile and fibres. Guggenheim curator, James Johnson Sweeney, wrote about Burri’s works, “Burri transmutes rubbish into human, bleeding flesh. He vitalises the dead materials in which he works, makes them live and bleed; then sews up the wounds as evocatively and sensuously as he made them….” (Larson, 2020). In my process of using fibres and weaving, its warp and weft represent my prayers; in silence, my work is condensed or diluted in a secret language, fertile with traditional humus. Where past experiences are weft, gather depth, becoming warped labyrinths resulting in surprising means and beautiful chromatic contrast.

I had to leave my homeland forever. My roots call me back through my art practice as I am tying, knotting, and stitching my loss and nostalgic memories. My works are composed of various materials depicting my life and time.

The earthen coated fence of the village house that I saw in my childhood is the substance of some of my artworks. The clay walls and fences were mainly made with bamboo, cane, jute sticks, hay, etc. I try to create visual remarks with weaving and knots with mixed fibres. My mother’s red Sindoor Bindi on her forehead represents faith, love, and silent prayer for her husband’s long life. This red symbol is always present in my weaving as a symbol of love, life, and bond.

For the last three years, all my materials have been collected from different places, like some of the fibres I have collected from our textile weaving workshop. I am collecting shredded papers, having been discarded as rubbish and left outside property agencies around Loughborough, thrown outside in orange bags. These orange bags of shredded paper detail the journey in people’s quest when buying, selling or relocating to find a new home shifting from one place to another. All documents were shredded and binned. I am using them in weaving to tell my silent diasporic story.

My practice also has informed Mrinalini Mukherjee, Magdalena Abakanowicz and fibre artist Chandan Shafiqul Kabir to bring my weaving tapestry into a hanging fibre sculpture. All my materials are flexible and light, which helps me move my work from one place to another, just like me and my life. For me, collecting materials is like collecting lost memories. This juxtaposition of the materials and memories takes me on a very nostalgic and emotional weaving journey. In my weaving, I revile my knots instead of hiding them while weaving because these knots are essential for me and my life. Each knot in my work is a bond I made with the loved ones I met in my arduous life journey. So, I am silent about my loss, but I celebrate my retrieved memories through my art practice.