By Sukhmani Basra
For over three decades, Sheba Chhachhi has been a transformative force in Indian visual art, challenging entrenched narratives about activism, agency, and the historical roles of Indian women. Currently showcased at the Barbican’s new exhibition, The Imaginary Institution of India: Art 1975– 1998 (on till January 5, 2025), her work offers a vital perspective on the intersections of art and activism in Indian history. At a time when visual culture increasingly simplifies complex narratives into digestible tropes, Chhachhi’s art resists this reduction, urging viewers to critically examine the power dynamics embedded in representation.
Rooted in a decolonial framework, Chhachhi’s work dismantles colonial legacies that persist in logic, metaphysics, and authority. Her photography is not just an artistic practice but a radical act of resistance— both a historical archive and a living, evolving contribution to decolonial thought. She reveals how power structures endure beyond formal independence, continuing to shape perceptions of knowledge, identity, and agency. Through her work, Chhachhi advocates for new ways of thinking, inviting a reimagining of existence free from colonial frameworks.
Chhachhi’s early photographs, like those capturing the anti-dowry protests of the 1980s, initially mirrored the ‘decisive moment’ approach popularised by post-independence photographers such as Henri Cartier-Bresson. Her iconic images, including that of Sathyarani raising her fist, encapsulated key moments of resistance. Yet, as her work became widely replicated in mainstream media, Chhachhi began to critique the limitations of this method. She saw that reducing complex social movements to single, consumable moments allowed her work to be co-opted.
In response, Chhachhi shifted her focus from documentary-style photography to staged, collaborative portraits, marking a profound evolution in her approach. Her engagement with subjects became more immersive, reflecting a deeper exploration of identity, agency, and the enduring impact of colonialism. Through this evolution, she disrupted the hierarchical visual traditions that had long shaped the representation of Indian women’s activism. Her new approach captured the individuality and complexity of her subjects in ways that transcended traditional documentary techniques.
In the early 1990s, Chhachhi invited the same women from her earlier anti-dowry protests to collaborate on a series of portraits, marking a significant departure from linear depictions of time. By integrating props and settings chosen by the women themselves, Chhachhi presented time as multidimensional, where past, present, and future coexist and inform one another—a concept central to the decolonial discourse.
Chhachhi’s collaborative process extends beyond her subjects to the very idea of culture itself. She challenges the traditional anthropological tendency to ‘other’ marginalised groups, advocating for more nuanced, context-specific representations that honour the fluidity and complexity of human experience. With this approach, her photography transforms into a performative, relational practice that blurs the lines between observer and observed.
By embracing this relational dynamic, Chhachhi resists the oversimplified representations that so often emerge from colonial and ethnographic frameworks. Her focus on the lived experiences of her subjects challenges dominant cultural narratives and encourages viewers to engage with a multiplicity of voices and identities. In doing so, she contributes to the ongoing decolonisation of visual culture, emphasising the right of marginalised communities to represent themselves and their histories.
While Chhachhi is aware that her role as a photographer inevitably shapes the narrative, she acknowledges this dynamic by engaging in a process of ethical representation. This self-awareness aligns with anthropologist Lila Abu-Lughod’s concept of ‘partial truths,’ recognising that every representation carries inherent biases. Chhachhi’s work embodies this ethical consciousness, ensuring that her photography remains a space of accountability rather than control. This reflexive stance is essential in the decolonial context, where representation has historically been fraught with imbalances of power.
In today’s media landscape, where misinformation and divisive narratives are rampant, the simplification of complex realities into digestible images perpetuates colonial power dynamics. Chhachhi’s art confronts this trend head-on, engaging with the ethical complexities of representation and the power relations it entails. By recognising the partiality of truth and the need for ongoing self-critique, Chhachhi offers a model for ethical visual storytelling that resists the commodification of marginalised experiences.
Chhachhi’s photography is a profound reclamation of agency and identity, reminding us that the act of ‘looking and being seen,’ as visual culture theorist Nicholas Mirzoeff suggests, is not merely a strategy for decolonisation, but a vital reclaiming of selfhood in a world still shaped by colonial legacies.
Chhachhi’s work, deeply embedded in the feminist and decolonial movements of India, invites us to reconsider the stories we tell and how we tell them. In amplifying marginalised voices and challenging dominant narratives, she offers a vision of a future where all perspectives are valued, and where art becomes a means of resistance, self-representation, and ultimately, liberation.
References:
- Mirzoeff, N. (2011) The Right to Look: A Counterhistory of Visuality. Durham: Duke University Press.
- Abu-Lughod, L. (1991) ‘Writing against culture’, in Recapturing Anthropology: Working in the Present, Ed. by R. G. Fox. Santa Fe: School of American Research Press, pp. 137-162.
Sukhmani Basra is a recent International Relations graduate from the University of Edinburgh. From the UK but currently living and working in Japan, she continues to explore international relations and decolonial studies through her lived experiences and writing.
