Altered realities

A soothing colour palette and floating figures lend a certain whimsicality to Arpita Singh’s paintings, but their perceived vibrancy is loaded with meaning, finds RADHIKA TYENGAR

For a considerable period of time in her career, Arpita Singh did not have a dedicated studio space. "At the time," she says, "there was hardly any place to work". It was only when her daughter left for school and her husband stepped out that she would wield her brush with sweeping strokes and paint for "long hours until they returned". So perhaps it makes sense that the first thing the celebrated contemporary artist describes when I speak to her is her studio space, which holds ample natural light and a handful of her vivid artworks. It is where she goes every day to paint-a ritual that begins at nine in the morning and carries on till early afternoon.

Over six decades, the 86-year-old has built an oeuvre that continues to bewitch viewers. Singh's paintings often have a surreal, fever-dream quality to them. The kind that appear otherworldly, yet resonate with the viewer on a deeper consciousness and seem eerily familiar. Take, for instance, If You Only Let Me (2022) from the Meeting series which was displayed at Frieze, No.9 Cork Street by Vadehra Art Gallery in June, marking the artist's first solo exhibition in London. In the painting, across disjointed patches of emerald green, are empty park benches and solitary black figures that seem distorted as though they have been deliberately scratched out.