Stemming from the web of curiosity and beauty that entraps people in a web of deceit, pain, sorrow, and betrayal stands Dhiraj Rabha’s display at the ongoing exhibition The Anatomy of Wonder at the Anant Art Gallery. On the sidelines of his display, he takes us through the process and the idea behind it.
One of the most striking elements is the garden of carnivorous flowers. What made you choose beauty as a metaphor?
I wanted to create a space that felt dreamlike and slightly surreal. Carnivorous flowers came to mind because they are beautiful, strange, and quietly violent. Their appearance is inviting, but beneath that beauty lies something predatory. I was drawn to this contradiction and to the possibility of creating a visual world that felt almost opposite to the subject matter itself.
The glowing garden creates a seductive, dreamlike atmosphere, while the looping news audio embedded within the plants brings in the persistent noise of public narratives and political representation. The flowers attract you before you begin to question what you are encountering. In a similar way, state and media narratives can appear persuasive, familiar, or even harmless, while obscuring the complexity of lived experiences. For me, the beauty of the garden is not simply a disguise for violence; it creates a tension between attraction and unease, between what is immediately visible and what takes time to understand.
In an age of constant information, do you think noise silences people?
Yes, I think noise can become a powerful way of silencing people, but I also see a contradiction here. On one hand, power continues to influence and control dominant news media, particularly when it comes to narratives that question authority or expose oppression. At the same time, social media has opened up spaces where we can access news and perspectives from different sources, beyond what is presented by mainstream media. The challenge, however, is that we are constantly surrounded by information, and it becomes dif ficult to understand what is happening, whose version of reality we are consuming, and what might be missing. In this sense, noise can make certain voices harder to hear, even when they are not entirely silenced. I think we need to remain conscious of where our information comes from and continually question the narratives presented to us. For me, the important thing is that even when powerful systems attempt to control the narrative, alternat ive voices continue to emerge. The question is whether we are willing to listen to them.
What surprised you most about the audience response?
My peers were surprised by the visual language of this installation and said that it was difficult to imagine these kinds of visuals emerging from my practice. That reaction surprised me as well, because it made me realise how easily people can form certain expectations about an artist based on the work they have seen before.
How do you decide what ideas to include and what to keep out?
It depends on the project and the context in which the work is being presented. Sometimes, the site itself influences what I choose to include or leave out, along with the possibilities and limitations of the space and the curatorial framework. Sometimes, the decision is about which fragment belongs in which part of the space, and how different elements can speak to one another. For me, leaving something out is also an important part of the process. It is not necessarily about dismissing a particular story or piece of information, but about understanding what the work needs in order to create a meaningful experience for the viewer. I want to leave enough space for the audience to make connections, rather than explain everything directly.
How do your political science and art backgrounds influence your work?
Political science helps me develop questions and understand the contexts I am working with, while my artistic practice allows me to explore those questions in ways that are not always possible through text alone. For me, the research doesn’t simply translate into a visual form; the process of making the work also changes how I understand the research itself.
How do you move from research material to an artistic language?
My process usually begins with an idea or a question that leads me into research. However, research and artistic practice develop together. Since my background and primary language of expression are rooted in visual art, I naturally approach research by asking how these materials can be explored beyond text and information. Sometimes I begin with a pre-decided idea, but that often changes as the process unfolds. I try to remain open to these changes and allow the research itself to influence the form the work eventually takes.
How do you decide what form an idea should take?
For me, the form of a work emerges from the idea and the context I am engaging with. Whenever I begin a project, I critically ask myself what kind of methodology, medium, or discipline the subject demands. I don’t want to force an idea into a particular form simply because I am familiar with it.
Tell us about your new project.
My practice has expanded toward broader questions concerning the ecological and cultural transformations taking place across Northeast India.
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