How artist Ravikumar Kashi transforms paper into a vessel of memory
Artist Ravikumar Kashi carries forth his engagement with pulp painting in which paper becomes a metaphor for loss of language, heritage and time
Waves of white caught the eye as soon as you entered Gallery Threshold in Delhi. Undulating sheets hang suspended from the ceiling. As you went closer to the work from the series, We Don’t End At Our Edges, letters from the Kannada script became apparent, etched onto the very skin of the paper. The pores in the sheets cast shadows on the gallery walls and floor—the etched words thereby acquiring a new reflected form. Crafted with cotton rag fibre pulp, the paper has become a metaphor for the body as a vessel of memory and history. In artist Ravikumar Kashi’s hands, paper becomes more than just a surface or a medium. It takes on sculptural and tactile forms, containing within it themes around loss of language, heritage, of people and time.
We Don’t End At Our Edges formed a part of the recently-concluded solo, Shadows of Breath, in which paper “is a material that is both fragile and resilient, recording presences and absences… . The title referred to the fleeting, subtle marks, the shadows, left by the internal rhythms of life, the breath," states the catalogue essay. The works on display evoked stories, silences, conversations and friendships. It showcased how over the last decade, paper has become central to the Bengaluru-based artist’s practice. Over time, he has challenged the fragility and passivity associated with paper through his sculptures and artist books. Here, paper is not an inert vessel for text, but is the text itself.
Kashi will be showing another large-scale installation, Holding Pattern, at the Bangalore International Centre as part of the BLR Kala Hubba from 16-25 January 2026. Nearly 13 feet tall, the work will be rotating on its axis.
In a labour-intensive process, which has taken time to perfect, he creates different kinds of paper pulps in his studio by combining different plant and textile fibres. “The pulp has a sauce-like consistency. I then use a nozzle to write text on a plastic sheet, which acquires an intricate textural form on drying. It took me a long time to arrive at the right consistency. But when I did, it opened up immense artistic possibilities for me," says Kashi.
The artist has had a longstanding engagement with text as well. He has authored several books, and lectures extensively on visual art and literary culture in both Kannada and English. “Both in my sculptures and artist books, I use the image and text together. Using text in my work comes naturally to me. When I perfected the process of pulp painting, I immediately thought of creating a series in which language becomes a metaphor for a membrane that can hold memory—the way it absorbs and expresses," he adds. A version of this idea was shown earlier this year in an immersive exhibition at the Museum of Art and Photography, Bengaluru.
The labour attached with the process adds another layer of meaning to the work. At each step, the idea evolves, reflecting the internal workings of the artist at that point of time. Kashi cites the example of the large-scale work in white, in which each scroll spans 32 feet. It took him 12 hours to finish half a scroll. “As I was working, different thoughts were arising within me. Once I expressed one strand, another one occurred to me. These waves of thoughts resulted in a parallel visual idea," states the artist. To him, this way of work follows the Buddhist idea of simply observing thoughts and not being caught up in them. Kashi calls his practice “artisanal", featuring a sense of touch, in which he grinds his own pulp and layers it. The thinking is not separate from the making. “There are no divisions. As you make a work, some new idea will occur. That will manifest itself in a new texture. This process makes the artist alive to the possibilities till the last minute," he adds.
Viewing the exhibition was akin to embarking on a journey through textures and meanings. You started with sculptural works in stark white, and ended with a vibrant installation reflecting the Bengaluru cityscape in different seasons. In one of the works, earthy red veins crisscrossed the off-white surface. From afar they looked like the topography of the human heart. On going closer, the installation took on the feel of a cityscape, with a rough map of Bengaluru superimposed on the surface, crafted from the pulp of Daphne fibre. The veins then resembled the streets and lanes of the city. “I have also used text in Kannada from the poems of Gopal Krishna Adiga. The verses are imbued with hope of building a new country after independence. The work is like a terrain where ideas of membranes, optimism and connectivity—of blood, ideas and routes—come together," elaborates Kashi.
In the last work on display, Where the Words Bloom, tendrils of alphabets could be seen streaming down from the ceiling. In this one, the language became a metaphor for blooming and growing. It alluded to the spring season in the city, when the landscape comes alive with hues of yellow, violet and orange. “In the old bungalows, still surviving in the cantonment, there is a walking path between the outer gate and the main door to the house. Often, there is a shed on top, with flowers drooping from the canopy. I wanted to bring in all those layers in this series, which will take on newer forms and meanings in the coming time," he adds.
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