The blue of resistance

If something good happens, I paint something ‘good.’ If things remain as they are, I will use this form and design of representation to paint,” says Vikrant Bhise - an artist from Mumbai - articulating his evolving practice during a walkthrough of ‘A Recalcitrant Aesthetics: Body, Revolution, and the Nation Reimagined.’

The exhibition, inaugurated on November 26 to mark Constitution Day at the School of Arts and Aesthetics, JNU, is curated by students and supported by the Anant Foundation for Arts.

The exhibition will be open daily from 10:30 am to 6:30 pm at SAA I Gallery, JNU, until December 6.

Rooted in the cultural and political ferment of Vikhroli, Mumbai - where the Dalit Panther movement shaped the neighbourhood - Bhise’s work reflects both his personal history and the collective struggles of his community.

“My father and uncle were part of the movement. I grew up around it,” he shares.

This upbringing informs his series on the ‘Dalit Panthers’, comprising 120 drawings, 12 of which are showcased in the exhibition.

“I met Raja Dhale (artist and activist and one of the founders alongwith Namdeo Dhasal and JV Pawar) before starting the series in 2019. We come from the same place, and he shared stories about the movement and its leaders, of Dhasal and Pawar. These memories inspire my work.”

This personal connection to history extends to the visual language Bhise has developed over time. The pervasive use of blue in his art, for instance, is deeply intertwined with his environment and experiences. “If you see any Dalit movement, any programme or function, the blue colour is very specific,” he explains.

“On December 6, at Dadar’s Shivaji Park or Chaityabhumi, the blue and white are everywhere. I’ve been seeing this since childhood — it’s my experience. This is my language and the story I want to show to people — what is Chaityabhumi, what is Mahaparinirvan Din? It’s a lot about where you’ve grown up and what you’ve seen around.”

His depictions of Dr Ambedkar exemplify this connection. These representations are not derived from photographs but from personal resonance and imagination. “I’m fascinated by Ambedkar statues. Whatever I paint of Ambedkar is from the heart - I enjoy working with the colour, the paint, and experimenting.” By blending reverence with creative freedom, he reinvents Ambedkar’s image as a living symbol of resistance and aspiration.

The autobiographical impulse in Bhise’s work is perhaps most visible in his ‘Labour Series’. The skeletal, headless figures in this series evoke the dehumanising realities of caste and labour exploitation. “After Class X, I dropped out and worked as a child labourer in a courier job, walking 10–15 km daily to deliver parcels. Those headless figures carrying the weight and discards are me,” he reveals. These visceral depictions not only recount his own experiences but also highlight the enduring struggles of many in similar circumstances.

Barricades of the present

One of his most striking works on Rohith Vemula’s room, imagines a world free of caste-based oppression. It depicts a room without a fan - its absence a poignant reminder of the conditions that led to Vemula’s tragic death - and features idols of the scholar as symbols of resilience and hope that no more lives are lost to systemic injustice.

Bhise frames this aspiration in the water of ‘Mahad Satyagraha’. Such works, with their delicate tension between starkness and tenderness, reflect Bhise’s deft handling of medium and subject. The spines of his headless figures and the white spaces in his paintings exude a softness that tempers the starkness of his themes.

The intersection of history and critique defines much of Bhise’s oeuvre, using historical texts as both material and subject. His ‘Preamble Series’ reinterprets the Indian Constitution, originally illustrated by modernist Nandalal Bose.

“In the last four or five years, what is happening in India shapes my art,” he explains. “The Constitution becomes my canvas and my notebook. I will continue working on its pages.” This engagement reflects a powerful critique of the gap between the promises of justice, liberty, and equality and their lived reality.

No labels

At the heart of Bhise’s work lies a refusal to be confined by labels. “This is India, these are the people, this is the situation, and this is a very contemporary reality of our times,” he asserts, challenging the reductive classification of his work as Dalit art.

Instead, he positions his oeuvre as Indian art, grounded in the lived experiences of labourers, the cultural memory of Ambedkarite movements, and the brutal realities of a casteist society. “Barricade is a pervasive symbol of contemporary life; it is beside Anya vastra and niwara today,” Bhise remarks.

His ‘Protest Series’, addressing farmers, labourers, the CAA-NRC demonstrations, and sewage workers, paints these contemporary realities, using symbols of oppression such as bulldozers, loudspeakers, and the lathi charge on emaciated bodies.

“As a painter, I have to read, yes, but I also search for my language through colour and observation,” Bhise reflects. His art defies reductive classifications, asserting itself as contemporary Indian art that speaks to the margins. With each stroke, he offers a recalcitrant aesthetic rooted in resistance, dignity, and the enduring aspirations of the Constitution.

As part of the ongoing exhibition, a panel discussion Caste, Constitution, Contradiction: Bodies between Promise and Practice will take place on December 2, from 4:30 pm to 6:30 pm at the Conference Room, SAA II, School of Arts and Aesthetics, JNU, offering further insights into Bhise’s work and the broader conversation on caste, constitutional promises, and resistance.

This article is written by Prachi Satrawal