Alright – so today we’ve got the honor of introducing you to Megha Parhar. We think you’ll enjoy our conversation, we’ve shared it below.
Megha, looking forward to hearing all of your stories today. We’d love to hear about a project that you’ve worked on that’s meant a lot to you.
The most meaningful project I’ve worked on was my first solo exhibit, in 2023. It was an exhibit about decolonization from the perspective of an asexual woman, and it was a little different in that it wasn’t in a white-space gallery where you can more easily take over the space. It was in a local history museum that is made up of 3 historical houses of local settlers and their inhabitant’s life and homes between 1846 to 1914. The task was to use these homes as the backdrop of the exhibit so that it’s a living tableau of decolonization against colonial backdrops, taking over the spaces. It was so meaningful for me in a couple different ways: personal, professional and communal.
When I applied to the program that chose me as the artist for the site I chose, it was my first anything, not just solo exhibit and it blew me away that anyone would be so interested in what I had to say, and my ideation. I had been making art for a few years now, but I had never done anything outside of creating for myself. I threw myself into it, and frankly went a little bananas lol, I didn’t have much in the way of guidance as it was self-motivated, and so I wasn’t sure how much I wasn’t sure how much or how little I should create or how narrow or broad the scope should/could be – I was told I could take over all three homes if I wanted. So, I did just that and ran with it. I spent an entire year doing in-depth research on colonization, globally and all of the objects obtained by violent colonization, from where, by whom and to what end and compiled a massive list of bloody everything frankly, from dyes, pigment, fibers, fabrics, textiles, instruments, knowledge, medicines, plants, flowers, jewels, minerals, rubber, hides, resources, patterns and motifs, perfumes, paper, gunpowder, drugs, animals, spices etc to all of the institutions and countries built by our enslaved labour and the legal frameworks that still exist enabling it. While I was doing this research and collecting/ideating and creating the pieces for this exhibit, I was also starting recovery from an extremely abusive relationship that echoed the abuse, exploitation, sexual violence and generational trauma of colonization and slavery that people of colour, myself included, experience and carry within every iteration in our families. The parallels between my personal experiences and the historical injustices I was exploring fueled my work, making the process both cathartic and agonizing.
While creating, I spent a year feeling like I was on fire from the inside – the rage was relentless, the grief was endless, and it was both personal and global, something I couldn’t bloody get out of my body. Through that year though, I created art works that were ugly in content and history, that I was terrified no one would want to ‘see,’ and that there would be pushback, as there always is when some facet of the true ugliness of how our current systems came to be is shown. While there was some pushback, (eventually requiring the museum to hire security), the exhibit was like an exorcism for me; it became a platform for me to reclaim my voice and to visually articulate the rage, grief, and pain that I and so many others feel as colonized people living in a colonial settler state.
This exhibit was the most meaningful project I worked on for the above reasons, but also because it was giving myself what I needed most in the worst of it: a mirror; and being able to show the ugliness, be the ugliness of what happens to us, so that someone else who may be experiencing similar struggles without their experiences reflected back at them – can find some facet of themselves here and not be so alone.
I ended up making 60 pieces, 36 of which were digitally added into a triptych mural of the Louvre, with 36 pieces of classical European art through the 1500s onwards, with every object of colonization removed, in order to show not only the scope of the brutality of the practice, the hidden costs paid by those not featured but also what little is left over without our contributions, consensual or not. The other works included current day legislation and new legislations introduced that are direct results of white supremacy, colonization and the transatlantic slave trade to show that it is alive and never died, as well as interactive spaces like a rage room and sitting room where visitors could process their emotions.
Through this project, I found my voice and created a space where others could see themselves reflected and know they’re not alone. It allowed me to briefly form a community where people could process their emotions in a safe place, where there’s room for your ‘ugliness’, their rage, grief, and even joy could be witnessed, be seen and be validated. This exhibit was a turning point for me, both as an artist and as a person, allowing me to show up for myself and people like me, who needed to see the ugliness of what happens to us, to feel it, to scream it, to rage it, to grieve it – because I rarely see the middle of the story represented, only the beginning and the end.
As always, we appreciate you sharing your insights and we’ve got a few more questions for you, but before we get to all of that can you take a minute to introduce yourself and give our readers some of your back background and context?
I make visual art, specifically within the collage medium and I specialize in kind of being a Jack of all Trades or specializing in nothing and everything, lol. My work is known for its prolific nature, diversity of theme and unexpected approach to the collage medium. When people generally think “collage,” I’ve noticed they often think of the European style, which is usually more abstract or about deconstruction, using historical imagery, photographs, fabric with a more vintage or classical look. Mine in contrast are heavily focused on cultural and political critiques, feature black and brown subjects, and are more stylistically fluid and expressive. I think what’s I’m ‘known’ for is that a lot of my work is influenced by activism and protest art, 90s hip hop and rap, Black American culture, Dapper Dan and remixing high/low fashion, pop culture, movement, fashion history, and socioeconomics.
I think what I’m most proud of is two-fold: one is that I’m proud of making the type of art with themes and subjects that I needed to see growing up (and as an adult), that I never really did and hopefully being a mirror that others like me, can see themselves in. The other more tangible thing I’m most proud of is that I applied for and got my first solo show early in my career that focused on LGBTQIA+ artists & decolonization in historical museums; but more so that because it was early and I had never had a showing or curated collection – I went kind of nuts. I took a whole year that was part of an attached art mentorship, did deep historical research and ideation during that time and ended up producing 60 works of art, in a show called “Portraits of Absence.” It included a large mural triptych that featured 40 classical European artworks in the Louvre with every object (including persons) that were stolen or obtained through violent colonization to show would be left over without us. It also included both a functioning sitting room to decompress in, with soft rugs, pillows, books, tarot cards to play with and art supplies as well as an outdoor rage room, in which I had a Spotify playlist, artworks featuring my rage and therapy bats, pillows, teddy bears to destroy or private room to scream in and decompress.
I think what sets me apart from others is that a lot of my art focuses on cultural and political critiques, uses both traditional collage methods with digital techniques to finish them, and a wide range of themes that are often considered “ugly” or “inappropriate”: decolonization, female rage, the hidden costs of fashion, beauty and consumption, mental health, the costs of womanhood, sexual assault, police brutality, anticapitalism and more subtlety, asexuality.
What I’m most proud of both art and brand-wise is how adaptable I think my art is into wearable art and how it deals with ‘ugly’ shit; because it’s me showing up for myself and others who needed to see this representation and couldn’t really find it.
In your view, what can society to do to best support artists, creatives and a thriving creative ecosystem?
In my view, supporting artists, creatives and a thriving creative ecosystem requires a radical paradigm shift away from hyper-capitalism. Society needs to move beyond the idea that art and creativity must meet arbitrary standards of productivity, often equated with profitability, to be considered valuable, ‘worth the time,’ or necessary. I think it’s essential to recognize that everyone is an artist in their own way – there’s no ‘right’ way or right medium to be an artist. Whether it’s a chef in the kitchen, someone passionate about gardening, someone’s sense of style, how they decorate their home, how they analyze their data or how they express love, all of these are forms of art.
When people have free time, they naturally tend to gravitate towards creation, whether it’s learning a new craft, acquiring new skills or just romanticising their life with appreciating the quiet moments in a slowed down life. This was particularly clear during the Pandemic, when many turned to artistic pursuits to fill their time and enrich their lives. Expanding our definition of what it means to be an artist or creative and making space for everyone to explore this side of themselves is something crucial society can do to nurture a vibrant creative ecosystem.
Supporting this ecosystem and creatives means not tying creation to survival. We can look to examples from European countries that provide stipends to creatives, universal basic income, and comprehensive health benefits to all citizens not tied to income. These measures allow people to step out of survival mode and into a space where they can focus on creating. In my experience, creativity flourishes when basic needs are reliably met, and you’re not burdened by the constant stress of meeting those needs. It’s incredibly difficult if not downright impossible to create under the weight of constant exhaustion, anxiety and stress. Who can create like that?
Historically, artists had wealthy patrons who supported their work, providing them with the means to create without the pressure of survival. Today however, artists are expected to be their own patrons, taking on multiple roles – artist, marketer, social media manager, SEO expert – all while juggling full time jobs to fund their art. This makes it incredibly challenging to focus solely on their creative work and being an artist.
In my view, society could benefit immensely from recognizing that everyone has the potential to be an artist and that people naturally gravitate towards artistic expression when given the time and resources. Supporting artists and creatives isn’t just about providing for them individually or taking a hyper-individualistic approach; it’s about fostering a society that values universal basic income, robust health benefits and meaning investment in its citizens. This includes educational support, artistic stipends, better work-life balance, liveable wages, affordable housing and mental health supports – these are the foundations of a society where creativity can truly thrive.
What’s a lesson you had to unlearn and what’s the backstory?
A major lesson I had to unlearn was the concept of what a ‘real artist’ is. I had this narrow definition that I think a lot of us learn, of what it means to be a ‘serious’ artist or creative and believed that if you didn’t meet certain criteria – like creating everything from scratch or mastering traditional techniques – then you weren’t truly an artist.
There’s a lot of gatekeeping in the art world I find, and very little transparency on the ‘journey,’ so to speak, the middle of the story, where the story is often told from the beginning and then cuts directly to the end – misrepresenting the full process of an artist.
I make collage art, partly because I love the process of curating and putting together imagery but also because I don’t have formal training in traditional artistic techniques like drawing or painting. For a long time, I felt like a fraud because I wasn’t creating everything from a blank canvas. I used to think that because I’m remixing existing images or filling in pre-existing silhouettes or forms, that I’m not a ‘real’ artist and the idea that an artist has to do everything alone and from scratch was a particularly harmful ideology that I had to unlearn.
What helped me shift my perspective was learning about the techniques of historical artists to be honest. I had no idea that renaissance artists often used tracing paper, grids, projection techniques and even referenced or reworked their own and others’ earlier pieces and that so much of what we consider ‘great art’ throughout history are functionally remixes to create something new. What is collage art if not a remix?
It was pretty eye-opening to learn that many classic works are themselves reinterpretations of earlier pieces: Dante’s Inferno is basically a self-insert fanfic that’s a classic literary piece of art, Milton’s ‘Paradise Lost’ is another Bible fanfic. Shakespeare’s ‘Romeo & Juliet’ is based on an earlier poem, “The Tragicall Historye of Romeus and Juliet,” and he changed the style of writing and inserted his own original characters. In visual art, Titan’s ‘The Venus of Urbino’ was based on Giorgione’s ‘Sleeping Venus’ 20 years earlier and Reubens’ The Raising of the Cross’ drew inspiration from Michelangelo and Caravaggio. Even Rembrandt’s The Night Watch was influenced by earlier militia group portraits of Amsterdam’s Civic Guards.
I had to unlearn all of that, and then further unlearn the misconception that selling your own art requires doing everything alone. I used to think everyone was managing their entire art practice independently, just like I was but I realized many artists apply for grants, seek out stipends and accept help to cover costs like marketing, social media management, art supplies and exhibition costs. They’re not burning themselves out trying to wear every hat at once and self sabotaging in the process – because it’s impossible to do everything alone. Learning to ask for help, to seek out and accept resources, was a significant mindset shift for me: it doesn’t diminish your work, it allows you to grow and thrive as an artist.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://monsoonarts.ca/
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/monsoonartsbym/
- Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/monsoonartsbym/
- Other: Redbubble: MonsoonartsbyM.redbubble.com
Teepublic: http://tee.pub/lic/vjgJRzghi8Q
e-mail: [email protected] or [email protected]
Image Credits
Images by me and Camilla Mikolajewska