One of India’s most exciting young Dalit mixed media artists, Siddhesh Gautam aka Bakery Prasad, is set to host his debut solo exhibition at Museum of Goa, Pilerne. In conversation with NT BUZZ he talks being an Ambedkarite, the significance of blue in his art, and more
DANUSKA DA GAMA
Inspired by icons like Babasaheb Ambedkar and Savitribai Phule, the exhibition by the Delhi-based artist, titled ‘We The People (Too)’, will feature digital prints, family artefacts, and animated films addressing caste inequality and social justice.
Excerpts from an interview:
How did the name Bakery Prasad come about?
I originally used ‘Bakery Products’ as my pen name because of my fondness for bakery items. After a few years I noticed people were tagging me in random bakery-related content. To make my name more relevant and distinctly Indian, I changed it to ‘Bakery Prasad,’ inspired by the similarities between baking and art. The final decision to adopt ‘Prasad’ came during the Serendipity Arts Festival in Goa, amidst the anti-CAA protests, when I felt a sense of freedom. Although I briefly added ‘Azad’ to my name, I later removed it.
How are you trying to bring about freedom through your art?
For me, art is a pursuit of freedom, with creation being just one part of the process. An artist naturally seeks to break free from societal constraints and cultural labels. Freedom is both cohesive and subjective, and I’ve come to understand that everyone is seeking their own version of it. Growing up in an Ambedkarite family, I felt judged by the symbols of Ambedkar and Buddha in my home and hid them, especially during college.
Over time, I realised that the basic freedom we all seek is to be acknowledged as human, not defined by caste or labels. It bothers me that while art by Dalits is labeled as ‘Dalit art,’ art by others isn’t categorised by their caste. Freedom should not be variable, yet it often depends on gender, caste, wealth, and language. I strive to reduce these disparities. My goal is for everyone to feel as free as the person next to them.
As a person born in the Dalit community, what is your view on struggles and oppression faced before and after Independence?
I believe January 26, 1950, marks true freedom for India, rather than August 15. On this day, the Constitution came into effect, criminalising untouchability and declaring everyone equal—the first official recognition of our humanity in a society historically structured by hierarchy. While the atrocities we endure are human experiences, those who inflict them act inhumanly, justifying their actions through culture, superiority, and purity. Such individuals should not only be punished but also rehabilitated to help create a better society.
Can you share any thoughts on how this rehabilitation can be made?
We need to reform our education system to reflect that we are living in 2024, as global citizens surrounded by diverse cultures, people, and ideas. More than students, teachers in this country need training. I had no one to discuss my feelings about the curriculum with, and if teachers listened, we would see radical change. This is why representation of Dalit and OBC teachers in institutions is crucial, so students can share their experiences without being dismissed.
Your art is clear to comprehend. Take us through a typical process of creating it.
My process goes both ways. Sometimes I first read and then I create. Sometimes I create and then read about it. I am a minimalist who does not look like a minimalist, because in my work, I do not eradicate everything. My first canvas was a metal. There are these series of paintings that depict my grandfather’s fictional father growing old alongside him. We have two men growing, one is real and the other is a complete fiction. My colour palette is directly picked from these images, which utilised a lot of blue. The different shades of blue come from the fact that the paintings were never preserved properly. They were made on plywood, and accumulated dust. The blues became a mix of green and grey, informing my colour palette.
Was there any reasoning behind why blue was such a standard colour in those paintings?
So, the first thing is because those paintings also had a lot of blue. The second thing is that Dr. Ambedkar said a very interesting thing: ‘Under the blue sky, we all are equal’. I gave it a lot of thought and realised that this blue sky is not always blue. There are different shades of blue and in these, we are all equal. So, my blue is not sad; it is hopeful.
How do you think art can influence or reshape public understanding of history, particularly about caste and freedom?
I think art has always played a huge part in documenting history. Resistance can manifest in subtle ways, not just in overt actions. Initially, my work was figurative, but it evolved into abstraction. I see resistance in my village, where small acts like the colour of a wall, a door, or a single tile featuring Buddha or Ambedkar symbolise defiance. This form of resistance has existed for a long time, from Adivasis expressing dissent through warli art to artists like Banksy, who use anonymity. In India, the Dalit Panther Movement (DPM) was a very progressive movement, doing interesting work around graphic art which is not documented. They also did good work in poetry, which is documented in bits and pieces.
How can equality be achieved in India, where the very basis is religion and caste at all levels, political and social?
On January 26, 1950, people ceased to become untouchables. But we never had a cultural revolution. We didn’t engage with our neighbours, other communities, women, or different genders. The former masters simply became new ones, leaving society unchanged. It’s disheartening that even in 2024, we struggle with inter-caste marriages, especially between upper castes and Dalits, denotified tribes, or Adivasis, resulting in a lack of cultural exchange. Children inherit their parents’ prejudices, perpetuating an unequal, casteist society. It’s up to us, particularly the state, to unite people through films, art, and music to achieve peaceful change. The way to do this is by following the ways of Savitrimai Phule or Dr. Ambedkar, where you make the pen your weapon. You get the best education and become the best in your career.
You call yourself an Ambedkarite. Tell us more.
I follow the foundation principles of Dr. Ambedkar. He is the reason for me doing whatever I’m doing. He taught the Dalit community to live a better life, to aspire, and to dream. He gave us the opportunity to be free. I feel I must invalidate Babasaheb’s final words, which were that he felt hopeless about nobody carrying forward his movement. I want to spread this concept of equality, liberty, and fraternity.
Growing up, how did you navigate challenges faced as a Dalit?
I think the biggest challenge was my own inferiority complex because of my caste and location. I never celebrated my birthday with my school friends because they would come to know where I come from if I were to invite them to my house. The inferiority complex persisted, even during my studies at the National Institute of Fashion Technology in Mumbai. This deception continued and altered stories about my life to maintain the facade.
During an exchange semester abroad, I finally felt free to speak openly about my caste. I was introduced to the work of other oppressed communities, helping me realise I wasn’t alone. This experience empowered me to embrace my identity, leading me to create a portrait of Dr. Ambedkar and openly declare my caste online, despite mockery. Upon returning to India, I became more serious about anti-caste work and found confidence in sharing my story. Accepting myself was the first step toward the work I do now.
The exhibition questions whether we are truly free and independent as a country. What conclusions have you drawn from your exploration of this theme?
Rather than drawing conclusions, I’ve provided evidence of where progress can lead. This exhibition reflects the progress society has made over 78 years. There was a time when it took a village to get my grandfather to school and my father to university. Eventually, when my father became self-sufficient, we had the freedom to pursue non-mainstream careers like fashion and ecology.
Before Independence, I was an untouchable. I never want to return to those times. Our community has worked hard to not only build this country but also to reshape it—a process still ongoing.
How do you feel about having your first exhibition in India at Museum of Goa?
This is my first solo exhibition with a studio or a museum space. I have had solo exhibitions before, but these were like tent exhibitions —we would place less expensive prints in the middle of bazaars and places like that, where people can come and talk, and train two or three people to talk about these artworks. I like the work that MOG does and showcases, and so agreed to have my debut exhibition here.
(The exhibition will be held from August 25 to September 8.)
Courtesy : Navhind Times
Note: This news is originally published in navhindtimes.com and was used solely for non-profit/non-commercial purposes exclusively for Human Rights
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