Beschreibung:

Preetika Rajgariah (B.1985)spread the light, be the lighthouse
title, signed and dated '2020' verso
auntie's sari, acrylic + latex paint, yoga mats
118 x 192cm (46 7/16 x 75 9/16in).Footnotes"I think about a way to incorporate lineage into my practice because I'm not going to have a lineage of children.''
Preetika Rajgariah is a queer multidisciplinary artist based in Houston, Texas. Rooted in a community where art was primarily regarded as a hobby, she initially steered towards a pre-med course–following a familiar South Asian path. However, a pivotal moment during her undergraduate years at Trinity University, San Antonio, Texas in 2008 unravelled a previously hidden possibility. It was a chance encounter within the art building that unveiled the notion that art could transcend mere hobbyism. This revelation sparked a radical shift in Rajgariah's aspirations, challenging societal norms and steering her towards a pursuit of genuine fulfilment through art.
Rajgariah's work for the auction titled 'spread the light, be the lighthouse', emerges as a poignant incarnation of her perspective as an artist. "That rickshaw interior is from a photo I took from my last trip to New Delhi, which was right before COVID-19." Employing collage techniques with Indian textiles passed down through generations, the piece is a repository of familial stories, paying homage to her lineage and narratives embedded within each textile. "I think about a way to incorporate lineage into my practice because I'm not going to have a lineage of children. I think about how I can incorporate my mother, grandmothers, masis, and other aunties in the communities, this is where the fabrics are from. I think about how to bring their stories to the work," Rajgariah says.
"I think it takes a very core belief in yourself to be an artist," she says. Transitioning away from the pre-med track was met with scepticism from members. "My family wasn't excited that I was changing from one career path, which was seemingly hard already, to something that was way more difficult in a different sense. I remember my dad said, 'If you think becoming a doctor is hard, this is going to be way harder. If this is why you're changing it—because it's difficult, you have the wrong idea.'" The turning point in her path as an artist emerged during a residency at the School of Visual Arts in New York in 2010. "In the summer of 2010, in the residency was the first time I was surrounded by working artists, of all ages and demographics, a global experience, because the program called in an international artist community. From then, I decided I was going to figure out how to do this. I would say I seriously began practising in 2010."
Rooted in the sensory richness of her South Asian upbringing, Rajgariah's practice serves as a chronicle—a reflection of her story as a young immigrant navigating spaces where a sense of belonging often felt elusive. "I was always interested in painting and drawing, but I also have a material affinity. Culturally I think, South Asian culture is very sense forward from the things that we smell to all the textures and colours we grow up with. This appreciation for art was built in, at least for me." This ongoing narrative including her present-day experiences as a queer brown woman in adulthood form the very essence of her vision. "Creating beauty is one of those built-in things that I hold very dear. All of the work comes from these stories I've collected over the years. That's really the seed for everything I make."
The deliberate choice of utilising yoga mats as canvases bears testimony to the artist's introspection into the commercialization and appropriation of yoga. "I grew up doing yoga with my mausa ji in New Delhi. That's where I was born. When we would go back in the summers, I remember I would do yoga at the Vasant Kunj park. Then, I remember going to studios in the US and thinking this doesn't feel like the same yoga I remember. This is something else entirely." The intentional use of these mats, not native to the traditional practice, reflects a poignant counter-narrative against the erasure of practices native to the discipline within Westernised yoga spaces. "I had missed painting for a couple of years and had just done a performance using 90 yoga mats. This rubber thing I collected for environmental purposes, is not native to the practice of yoga. I wanted to take a part of it and use it for something different. That's where the idea of using it as a canvas came from. I began looking at the gridded pattern on the mats—which looks woven. I was working with textiles at the time and realised it's a different kind of textile, only, it's the same thing. Then, I used my body to counter the erasure," she concludes.