Kaveri Raina Delves Into Submerged Kingdoms and Elusive Narratives
Kaveri Raina. Photo by Terrance James Jr. Courtesy of Casey Kaplan.
“I want viewers to challenge themselves, witness these paintings, and create their own imagined worlds,” says Kaveri Raina. Her vast, enigmatic canvases draw in viewers, inviting them to delve deeper into layers of meaning and emotion. In her solo exhibition Reflection as a Witness at Casey Kaplan, Raina explores submerged kingdoms and fractured narratives. Drawing inspiration from Anju Dodiya, Leon Golub, and Lee Lozano, her work captures raw emotion and unresolved struggles, urging audiences to engage with the shifting forms and colors that reflect both personal and universal turmoil.
Shreya Ajmani: Can you walk us through how you conceptualized and constructed the series shown in Reflection as a Witness at Casey Kaplan?
Kaveri Raina: I started working on this series in the fall of 2023 as a way to create imaginary, submerged kingdoms. There are three large works that I see as the main pillars, while the rest serve as mini or complementary pillars—pillars meaning support structures. I have always had an affinity for water since I was a child. My name, Kaveri, means river. This fascination reemerged when I visited India in December of 2023. Something about being submerged has always fascinated me—the idea of being underwater in a world I don’t have experience in. I wanted my work to reflect this, to almost feel like a film, with participants passing through momentarily and then fleeting away.
I was introduced to Anju Dodiya's work in early 2024, and I loved how her paintings made me feel as if I was watching a film—like I was viewing a glimpse or section of a larger scene. The implications of what was outside the frame of the painting swirled in my mind.
These paintings feature new, unseen forms, characters, and participants, such as the fisherman/mermaid character. This figure changes colors, remains central to the narrative, and always relies on the bright yellow shape, also seen as a pillar for support. The mermaid figure is lifelike in scale, which was enabled by the larger size of these paintings. It is also a sensual figure at times, and almost has its back turned towards the viewer. The implication is that the viewer is glimpsing a fragmentary moment, like a still in a moving film.
There is also a recurring “ant” form, which at times resembles a cocoon. Sometimes it appears open, other times more closed. In one of the large paintings, it takes the shape of a fleshy pink form on the edge of the composition. I have painted this figure in the past as well, where it would appear as a darker, more somber, ant-like figure. This creature vibrates and circulates through the ground.
Each painting carries a specific narrative that I envision at the outset, but as I begin painting, the story evolves, often surprising me. I value this constant back-and-forth dialogue with the works. I want viewers to challenge themselves, witness these paintings, and create their own imagined worlds.
Kaveri Raina, the kingdom, the cave, the beginning; and the ant taking over, 2024, Acrylic, graphite, oil pastel, burlap, 75 x 130" / 190.5 x 330.2cm. © Kaveri Raina. Courtesy the artist and Casey Kaplan, New York. Photo: Dan Bradica Studio.
SA: You’ve spoken about your attraction to the “intensity of turmoil.” How do you process and express such heavy emotions in your art, and how do you see them resonating with contemporary global or personal crises?
KR: There is constant turmoil, pain, and death around us. I am interested in emotions and events—both past and present—that reflect struggle. As a maker, I think of this often, and at times, my work reflects it through heavy, dense mark-making, unsettling colors, textures that feel repulsive and awkward, teetering forms, and a dark palette that challenges traditional notions of beauty.
I see my time in the studio as a place where I can process a lot of the emotions that I am feeling. My work becomes a way to understand a lot of the things that happen around me. I feel that I am having a back-and-forth conversation with the work I make in the studio. I react, and then the medium allows me to react again and again. It's a space in which I feel comfortable and can let myself be free. The walls and the floors of my studio hold this residue and these feelings as well. I want my audience to witness the work, the characters, and forms. Holding the viewers accountable for what they feel and see is very important for me. It's all a back-and-forth.
Installation view of Kaveri Raina: reflection as a witness, Casey Kaplan, New York, November 7 – December 21, 2024. Photo: Dan Bradica Studio.
SA: You’ve mentioned the influence of artists like Leon Golub and Lee Lozano. How have their works shaped your approach to depicting conflict, trauma, and everyday objects?
KR: When I experience Lozano's work, I feel a sense of aggression, sadness, and rage. Her works pulse with energy, almost palpitating, sometimes even moving me to the core through the intensity of her marks and the way they are applied on the surface. There is a kind of shaking that happens within me. Her forms are complex and energetic, always telling us something beyond what they initially appear to be. My use of dry medium (charcoal, graphite, oil pastel) on burlap and paper is heavily influenced by Lozano. The aggressive and quick moves—and their density as well. I learned how one mark can hold so much heaviness. I get goosebumps when I see her work. I want to feel the same emotion when I see my work; I want the viewers to feel it, too.
Golub's work portrays physical violence and explores power dynamics between his figures. I am particularly drawn to his characters because they feel larger than life—physically extending beyond the surface, questioning the boundaries of where a painting begins and ends. His looming figures often carry an unsettling, lurking-over feeling, making the narrative all the more compelling through their dominance and tension. The large-scale paintings and figures in my work reference Golub’s figures—the sense of doom and unease. There is an action present in the frame, but the figure is always extended off the surface to implicate that larger-than-life emotion. The forms are always teetering, and it feels like they are about to move at any moment.
Kaveri Raina, the kingdom, the cave, the beginning; and yet the heart prevails, 2024, Acrylic, graphite, oil pastel, burlap, 75 x 130" / 190.5 x 330.2cm. © Kaveri Raina. Courtesy the artist and Casey Kaplan, New York. Photo: Dan Bradica Studio.
SA: Do certain colors or forms carry personal significance in your work? How do they contribute to the tone or mood you aim to convey?
KR: The colors are always from the past—whether borrowed from something that happened six years ago or just yesterday. They stem from lived experiences that hold significance or linger in my memory. Throughout my work, there are recurring motifs: vessels, vases, amputated body parts, floating limbs, tools, and even creatures playing drums.
The narratives emerge as I draw, taking on names, places, and forms within the larger story. This series began with an uplifting mood and evolved through many transformations over the course of the year.
I saw a Golub painting at David Zwirner with a palpitating heart that was bleeding. I really loved the way it was painted because it was so different for him. I painted a similar heart in a recent painting but as a hopeful form of joy. I used many different colored burlaps for this work and enjoyed playing around with a marine landscape with lots of deep blues and greens.
The color yellow remains ever-present for me. I used to paint on this bright yellow burlap, and that particular yellow would always remind me of haldi (turmeric). I love to cook and witnessed my mother cooking passionately a lot, so my relation to that is strong and comes through my work very naturally.
The pillar that the fisherman/mermaid is leaning on in “the kingdom, the cave, the beginning, and the ant taking over” is this golden, yellow ochre pillar. I was referencing architecture that I grew up seeing, with many arches and curvature, and gold, which is worn a lot in India. I am inspired by things I witness and experience, and this comes through my work in a natural, honest way, often subconsciously.
SA: Looking ahead, are there any new directions or themes you’re excited to explore in your art for 2025?
KR: I am thinking more about color and the importance of water this year, and I am trying to reflect on last year, which had its fair share of highs and lows. What the abilities of water are and how important it is to our life—survival-wise but also for joy. I am excited to draw on a larger scale and work more with thick oil pastels, which is always a gratifying experience.
This interview has been edited for clarity and length.
