Indian-born Neha Vedpathak has worked in Detroit since 2016, developing a labor-intensive practice that embraces the spirit of a city built from raw materials and elbow grease. Using her proprietary technique of “plumage”, the artist separates the fibers of the Japanese papers to create sculptural surfaces resembling nets or roughly cut textiles. She then applies paint to the treated paper, whose mulberry fibers absorb the acrylic, resulting in rich matte colors. Vedpathak’s art has a fragile and malleable appearance but, like femininity – just one of the many themes she explores in her work – it is strong and resilient.
Perhaps her most intimate and personal exhibition to date, “Creative Force” pieces integrate Vedpathak’s studies of Tantric and Zen Buddhism to formulate an aesthetic response to the current threat to women’s reproductive rights in America. . Collectively, they resonate with an esoteric sexualized energy, while the accumulation of time and labor in their making – reflected in the subtle imperfections of their materiality – has a transcendent effect. Works such as Illumination, Radiance, Immanence, 2022, draws formal inspiration from the juxtaposition of the dark blue skin and red tongue of the Hindu war goddess Kali, while Equanimity, 2023, highlights the artist’s imperceptible hand sewing techniques. The effort Vedpathak puts into his art is evidenced by our careful observation of it, which reveals a rich mine of hidden detail, such as the skillfully executed shading passages in large expanses of treated paper.
The vast microcosmic textures of Vedpathak’s objects index his work and the myriad repetitive actions that compose it. It is all too easy to differentiate its production, which some associate with “women’s work” in its relationship to quilting and other forms of craftsmanship. But when the tiny cells of torn paper come together in colorful abstractions, the raw force of her vaguely coherent compositions seem distinctly unfeminine. Referring to destructive female deities such as Kali, Vedpathak’s gathering action resembles less meditative embroidery than lighting a fire.
