I saw Bharti Kher’s work at the Frieze Art Fair in London last year. One piece that stood out was Drunken Frenzy (2011), an installation that seems like an earthy landscape. Reds and browns cover the large work, and from a distance, they seem like a cohesive whole. It is only on close inspection that a viewer realises that the whole piece is made of thousands of bindis.
Kher uses bindis in many of her works – she meticulously applies them to various surfaces to create intricate patterns. But the dots are more than decoration or allegory. She uses it as a symbol of the third eye, which, in her words, “forges a link between the real and the spiritual / conceptual / other worlds”. That landscape in Drunken Frenzy, then, is a reflection of the internal one. The bindis evoke the rhythms and patterns of the emotional states that we experience but cannot see. It makes for a powerful metaphor for the moments of chaos, vulnerability, and emotional flux that we all encounter at some point. The repetitive placement of the bindis mirrors these oscillations between order and disorder, stability and turbulence. Even the title, Drunken Frenzy, captures the idea of being caught in a state of both loss and euphoria.
It’s no surprise that Kher gets the little bindi to say so much. For Indian women, it’s a marker of cultural identity, tradition, spirituality, and femininity. It also fits Kher’s socio-political themes and her choice to use unconventional materials. One of her works, a fibreglass sculpture titled An Absence of Assignable Cause (2007) came about after Kher was unable to find photographic evidence of a sperm whale’s heart. So, she imagined a gigantic one, with two chambers, protruding veins and arteries, and covered it with turquoise, green, and red bindis. In another work, The Nemesis of Nations (2008), she turned those little bindis into large, bright, overlapping, concentric circles, giving the very idea of Western abstraction an Indian spin.
{{/usCountry}}It’s no surprise that Kher gets the little bindi to say so much. For Indian women, it’s a marker of cultural identity, tradition, spirituality, and femininity. It also fits Kher’s socio-political themes and her choice to use unconventional materials. One of her works, a fibreglass sculpture titled An Absence of Assignable Cause (2007) came about after Kher was unable to find photographic evidence of a sperm whale’s heart. So, she imagined a gigantic one, with two chambers, protruding veins and arteries, and covered it with turquoise, green, and red bindis. In another work, The Nemesis of Nations (2008), she turned those little bindis into large, bright, overlapping, concentric circles, giving the very idea of Western abstraction an Indian spin.
{{/usCountry}}Kher has inspired artists around the world, including women sculptors like me. She was born and raised in England but has lived in Delhi for over 30 years. She focuses on themes of dislocation and movement inspired by her transient life. In Drunken Frenzy, the scale and intricacy of the piece add to its impact, enveloping viewers in its rhythm, almost as if inviting them to step into its world. The work seems to come alive in its attempt to share a story, which I don’t fully understand but am eager to uncover. I believe this fusion of cultural motifs with innovative techniques allows her to craft works that set her apart in the art world.
Artist bio: Niyamat Mehta’s sculptures explore human emotions through a study of the human anatomy. She cites her Indian heritage and surrealist masters such as Salvador Dali as influences.
From HT Brunch, March 22, 2025
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