Paint and pain in hurt’s locker

Artists do inhabit a different reality. Bakula Nayak’s reality is filled with pieces of memories—postcards, letters, old bills, doctor’s prescriptions… things that, say, a layman would probably chuck into the trash. However, it is Nayak’s world of pain—she suffers from fibromyalgia and Hashimoto which causes muscle pain and chronic fatigue.

This space, her intaglio of recollections is where she crafts her artistic and unique dialogue with the outer world. In the process, she has learned to accept her pain.

Commenting on her use of vintage and archival paper in her art, Nayak says, “I have collected vintage objects and ephemera since I was in my teens. My mother loved everything vintage, and passed on that love to me. I think of myself as a memory keeper—especially of the ones that have fallen through the cracks of time. The emotional value of an object for a person at one point in time, and is now meaningless because it has been discarded by subsequent owners, seemed painful to me. But the ones that are treasured over time are steeped in emotion and worn out from acting as catalysts for me to imagine their owner’s past.”

On a wall inside the Blueprint12 gallery in Delhi, where Nayak’s work is on show as part of the exhibition titled—Tribulations and Turbulence of the Body and Mind—and curated by Rahul Kumar, three unique pieces catch the eye; all embroidery on archival medical journal paper. Look closely and certain words stand out—trauma, resolvable, abnormal, afunctional…

These words resonate with Nayak. “Pain and chronic illness is such a big part of my existence that painting about it is the only way I am able to process my life. My art helps me unburden some of the feelings that come with a life half lived. It’s not all sad though, I also find in it hope, perseverance, love and respite,” says the Pittsburgh-based Bakula, who has no formal training in art though she first trained as an architect, and then as a graphic designer.

Talking about the unique theme of the exhibition, Kumar says, “The first time I closely encountered the practice referencing one’s own medical condition was that by Priya Ravish. It planted a seed in me, all the way back in 2017. My show explores deeply personal stories that make the works extremely unique, as well as authentic. And therefore immensely powerful.”

The exhibition itself is a chronicle of distress. Other artists featured—Avinash Veeraraghavan, Devika Sundar, Khushbu Patel, Neerja Kothari and Priya Ravish Mehra—also channel their internal pain to draw on multiple senses to visually navigate the journey of battling an illness or injury.

Bakula admits that she began to paint as an escape from her pain. But her art has expanded to other domains. “At the heart of these expressions is a search for resilience, and building a world without long-standing inequalities, with women at the centre of recovery,” she points out. Most of her illustrated works on archival paper resemble sketches in a graphic novel—a curled up woman, her head a scramble of lines denoting the conflicts within, with flowers and birds in the background.

In fact, birds and flowers are a recurring subject in Nayak’s work. “I recently found a collection of my paintings when I was barely six. Each one of them depicted either flowers or birds. I guess I was always drawn to them. I am in awe of the natural world’s beauty with a special affinity for birds.

My studio is filled with birds of all kinds: glass, ceramics, metal, wood and stone. Birds and flowers lend themselves to the layered and self-reflexive symbolism in my work,” explains the 49-year-old, who decided to pursue art in 2013. Her interest in poetry and embroidery also intersect with her art. “Over time I have realised that I have a story to tell and a perspective to share. For me, art and life share a tenuous boundary that is self-constructed and is as volatile as my passions.

As I begin to express myself, I instinctively use mediums that work best for what I wish to communicate. Being untrained has its benefits—I am equally inept at all mediums and hence feel I could use any and all of them because my proficiency would be the same. The story I want to tell and not the medium I use to express it is important,” she says.

Bakula draws inspiration from Frida Kahlo—another artist who battled tremendous physical pain through her life. “When I was bedridden I got The Diary of Frida Kahlo as a birthday gift. The 70-page journal contained her thoughts, poems and dreams. It awakened me from my self-pity and depression.

Frida would say, ‘To create your own paradise, you have to draw from your personal hell.’ I tried to channel that advice,” says the artist, who now wants to explore larger sizes. “While I love being intimate with my works, I want to see what will happen if I work on a large canvas,” she smiles.

A new dimension of her unique thought process, perhaps?