JOIN USLadies first, please
A bald Avantika Mathur talks of freedom of expression, of women power and her baldness — she donated her hair for cancer patients. Anpu Varkey’s voice smoulders with the triumph of liberation, of stepping out of a closed studio and partaking in collective consciousness. Abigail Aroha Jensen repeats Tino Rangatiratanga. In Aotearoa, her home in New Zealand, it means ‘our independence, our culture, our pride’. Duality, unity and collective growth are asides in her utterances.
If I were unaware of the loves and livelihood of these women, I’d probably bundle them as metaphysical voicing; women euphoric about their no-shackle existence. But that’s not all that Avantika, Anpu, and Abigail colour their lives with. There are the pinks and the yellows and the reds. Dolphins. Birds. Cats. Girl dangling upside down. Mandalas. Sages. Abstract, and as abstruse it can afford to be. High/low, mud/concrete walls that turn into canvases for these graffiti artists who are artfully announcing their presence in a heavily-male street art scene.
And they had all gathered on one street in Marol (Mumbai) to chant Ladies First at Ladies First, India’s first women-only street art festival that was held in the last week of March. Organised by WickedBroz, a Mumbai-based company founded by Zain Siddiqui and Omkar Dhareswar, Ladies First brought together seven female street artists to Mumbai’s Marol neighbourhood for the week-long festival. Representing some of the country’s best street artists, WickedBroz, as their tagline reads, wants to inject art into everything.
Liberating
There sure was a lot of art that week. Different styles. Different motifs. Anpu Varkey, who defines street art as ‘liberating’; Boston-based Lena McCarthy who combines floral themes with different subjects; Avantika Mathur, who brings boho vibes and surrealism with her wherever she goes; Shirin Shaikh, whose heart and art are both closest to nature; Kesar Khinvasara, a goddess of mandalas; Ratna Singh, whose style is all about bringing Warli art to the walls; and New Zealand-based Abigail Aroha Jensen whose modern style has been a part of the first transgender art fest in Prayagraj.
For Avantika, who signs as ‘WomenPow’, it all began when regressive idiom stared at her when she returned from the Philippines with an art degree in hand.
“I was appalled at the status of women. For me, empowerment became the leitmotif. Not demanding respect as a favour but being empowered enough to stand tall on your own feet,” says Avantika, one of the most popular names in the Indian street-art scene.
Combining bohemian stance with surrealism and abstract motifs, she eschews from making political and ideological statements; instead, uses the walls as a large space to express herself.
It has been a long, tedious journey — the acceptance as an artist and the economics of being an artist. If you can paint the street walls for free, why can’t you paint our walls for free — it is a common question from commercial establishments. But, over the years, Avantika has learnt to stand up for herself and demand her dues — a minimum of Rs 400 per square foot of wall art. Big step in a small world!
A gender bender
For Abigail, “Street art is a way to communicate a message from the ground up. Ladies First festival is a platform that encourages inclusivity throughout the community which actively involves the community, too. To focus on bringing representation for women artists is a great incentive to band a male-driven art movement and break down what separates us based on colonial constructs of ‘gender’”.
At the recently held Kumbh Mela in Prayagraj, she painted walls and experienced duality, unity and collective growth.
“Artists came together in Prayagraj to work with the Kinnar community, to create a message through art, to defy the negative connotations that affect our vulnerable communities and to strengthen our weave of accessible communication for those who struggle with queer/LGBT acceptance. We connected, we grew, and we transformed,” says Abigail.
For Anpu, who trained as an artist in Baroda and London, lived in Germany, Delhi and now calls Bengaluru her home, street art was ‘liberation’ from the cloistered confines of a studio where she painted alone on a white canvas. “I took to street art inadvertently. One day while watching other artists express themselves in bold strokes on a wall, I suddenly realised the constrictions of a canvas — the paucity of space within a framework”.
Now, Anpu has several walls to her credit, including commercial establishments where art is not just liberation, it also brings in the bacon.
The word graffiti comes from the Greek word ‘graphein’ which means ‘to write’. “Yes, the graffiti art scene is heavily skewed in favour of male artists. But the past four to five years have seen the rise of female street artists, though there are still few names to reckon with and many more miles to go before they get the pride of place they deserve,” says Dhareswar, a mechanical engineer who shunned the humdrum nine-to-six job to managing hip hop and graffiti artists.
Peeves
Being a female graffiti artist in India is not easy. Permissions are tedious, money is never fatter than a trickle and there’s always the trepidation of working at night. Add to it a mundane ‘where to pee’ hassle.
“Street artists generally work long hours and there is a huge dearth of public toilets. Sounds ridiculous but art can get hampered by pee-peeves. With men it is as easy as getting off a scaffolding and getting back soon. With women, it is a struggle,” adds Dhareswar.
Ladies First has gingerly stepped into the world of street art that, in India, is not yet writ in gold. But with WickedBroz lending a hand and female street artists standing tall on their ground — with spray cans and synthetic emulsions — one day, hopefully soon, many more walls will be sprayed into art and the artists will get what is rightfully theirs.
Ladies first, please.