Braiding a Future in Art with Paree Rohera
Photo of Paree Rohera in her studio. Courtesy of the artist.
The Mumbai-born painter Paree Rohera grew up in a home where long hair symbolized beauty, each strand embodying the weight of tradition. Memories of her mother's intricate jewelry designs and ornate Indian wallpapers surrounding her lingered, informing the aesthetics of her present-day art. Sunday painting sessions with her family were a cherished ritual, shaping her childhood and profoundly influencing her approach to art. Now a senior at the Rhode Island School of Design, she has already distinguished herself through a workshop at the coveted Anderson Ranch Arts Center. In her work, Rohera seeks beauty in the “ugly,” uncovering the sublime within the overlooked corners of existence. A recent awardee of the Hopper Prize grant, she stands on the threshold of a new and exhilarating chapter, poised to explore the depths of her journey as an artist.
Shreya Ajmani: What are some things that you frequently dwell on while developing your work?
Paree Rohera: For me, artistic research is about exploration and discovery, but it’s also something innate. It starts with your experience, your background, and the ideas you think about. On the other hand, there’s imagery that I like to paint—things I see and list down. When artistic research and concepts intersect with visual imagery, I feel confident enough to put it down on a canvas. That’s a very general way of describing my practice.
I also keep a sketchbook practice; as a result, caricature has become a huge part of my work now. I’m still in college and trying to understand it more. After moving to the US, caricature and identity became central to my work.
Paree Rohera, detail of diptych, I Present to You. Oil and acrylic on canvas, 2024. Courtesy of the artist.
SA: Could you elaborate on that?
PR: When I was painting at home, I used photo references, which carried over to my practice at RISD. I would refer to South Asian architecture from Jaipur, Rajasthan.
I’ve kept sketchbooks since high school. They were filled with caricatures. I would make so many of them that they were like handwriting. They were always front-facing and somewhat symmetrical, with big noses, eyes, and mouths. My insecurities crept into these fantastical figures. I never transferred these images to my painting practice because I was never happy with them.
When I had to create a body of work for a show in Mumbai, I started thinking about myself, the walls, and my peers because I never considered these aspects when I was in India. Then, my caricatures came into play. When I converted the front-facing figures to side profiles, something just clicked, and these figures became vessels for storytelling.
Merging portraiture with caricature allowed me to hone in on the features I wanted. It wasn’t about symmetry anymore. It was about the sublime. It became about the beauty in the ugly. I could control these caricatures in a way that was so important to me. I could place these imagined narratives of my anxieties, insecurities, and my place as an artist. It allowed me to concentrate on the components of the image that I was especially interested in, like hair, textiles, and patterning, with a maximalist tenor. All these things came together because of the switch from the front-facing portraits to the side profiles.
SA: How has your background influenced and informed your practice?
PR: One of the biggest influences on my work is my mom’s background as a jeweler, which made me observant of textiles, patterns, and the significance of hair. In my family, long hair was seen as a symbol of beauty; my dadi (paternal grandmother) often insisted that I keep mine long. As I delved into this topic, I discovered that hair symbolism spans many cultures and scriptures, often linked to themes of death, glory, and purity, but not necessarily tied to gender. Hair is considered the first garment of the skin, representing different concepts that inspire my paintings.
Coming from a Sindhi background, where having a lot of hair is common, I was often aware of societal norms around body hair. In my family and school, showing body hair was taboo. I intentionally incorporate body hair into my pieces, as it symbolizes many things for me.
Patterns and designs were also prominent in my upbringing, with intricate furniture and textiles filling our home. I often sketched my mom’s jewelry designs without realizing their lasting impact until I began painting. How my hand moves on the canvas is deeply connected to those memories. The repetition of these patterns has become like my handwriting, creating a flow and comfort in my work that I strive to achieve with each piece.
Paree Rohera, Exit, 2023. Courtesy of the artist.
SA: Could you tell us about your workshop at the Anderson Ranch?
PR: I attended a workshop with Linda Geary where we had to prepare our own shows in our studios. I focused on the concept of the sublime, exploring not just beauty but also the beauty in the ugly. This reflection connected deeply with my identity, especially coming from Mumbai, where the chaos embodies a unique beauty.
I liken the sublime to perfume-making: a good scent has a top, middle, and base note, but the base is often unpleasant or pungent. While it might not smell good on its own, it’s essential for creating a powerful and interesting fragrance. This is what the sublime represents—it transcends mere beauty, inviting contemplation rather than simple desire.
In my paintings, I aim to portray the uncanny tension between beauty and ugliness. While at the Anderson Ranch, I created a piece called Beautiful Things Are Pretty, which encapsulates this exploration.
SA: Who has been a mentor or an important influence? And why?
PR: I take inspiration from many artists like Mithu Sen. She came to our college for a workshop where I got to interact with her. Her workshop included a lesson where we had to explain our life in gibberish in front of the class. As a shy person, this was hard, but I forced myself to do it in front of a group of people, which was transformative for my confidence.
My dad was a Sunday painter who worked all week, so I wouldn’t see him much. But on Sundays, we’d spend quality time together, often painting. We’d turn our dining table into a little studio, where my sister, mom, and I each got a canvas or sheet of paper, played some music, and began. We would sit for at least 15 minutes, thinking about what we wanted to create. My dad, however, entered this space with a certain type of confidence that even many serious painters lack. He knew exactly what he wanted to paint, and that surety in his work, even during a family activity, left a lasting impression on me. I think about those Sunday painting sessions a lot; they’ve become a significant influence on my practice.
Paree Rohera, detail of diptych, To Love, To Lose, 2024. Courtesy of the artist.
SA: Where do you hope to be a few years from now?
PR: I want to be able to share my culture with the rest of the world. I’m going to try to do a lot of residencies. I’d love to go to the Yale School of Art for an MFA in painting. I’d love to just grow as an artist. I just hope that I can be consistent, happy, fulfilled, and ever-growing. Hard work and consistency will always be important to me; I hope that what comes out of these qualities is good, that people understand it, and that people don’t mischaracterize my intention of being an artist.
This interview was edited for length and clarity.
