For the love of terracotta

Photo:SNS


When women and children ravaged in War or dominated by social patriarchy is the theme of an exhibition, then it sways every heart, every soul and sends a strong social message to the world. And when these stories and faces are etched in Terracotta, the very feel of the Earth — it turns even more evocative and sensitive. After a silence of fourteen years, sculptor Alakananda Sengupta returns with a deeply personal solo exhibition, Ekak Alakananda, that opened on 14 February at the New South Gallery of the Academy of Fine Arts.

The exhibition presents a body of work created over past three years by the celebrated sculptor — a period marked by reflection, experimentation, and a renewed engagement with both medium and message. This particular collection traces the evolution of a socio-politically aware artist whose deeply personal practice remains intimately attuned to the rhythms and realities of the world around her, reflecting a growing maturity of vision with shared human experience. At first encounter, the language of Sengupta’s sculpture feels disarmingly simple. There is an immediacy to her forms — a tenderness that seems to reach out and envelop the viewer in quiet intimacy.

Her sculptures do not conceal themselves behind abstraction or intellectual distance. Instead, they confront the onlookers. Though Sengupta has previously worked with metal, wood and ceramics, it is Terracotta — one of the oldest sculptural mediums known to humans — that has emerged as her most intuitive and expressive raw material for whipping up the sculptures. Far from the traditional look of Terracotta, she has transformed it by bringing distinctive innovations in her use of colour. Instead of applying pigment after firing, she introduces colour before the firing process itself.

This ensures permanence, allowing colour to become intrinsic to the material rather than acting as a superficial addition. Thus, Sengupta redefines terracotta not merely as an earthy, monochromatic medium, but as a living surface, capable of carrying emotional and symbolic intensity. She challenges its conventions, expanding its expressive vocabulary without compromising on the organic essence of Terracotta, blending ancient forms with a startlingly contemporary take. The thematic scope of Sengupta’s sculptures is unified by a deeply human concern. Nature appears frequently — not as passive scenery, but as a living, vulnerable presence. Alongside emerges a world scarred by violence and destruction, reflecting the anxieties of modern existence. Her work speaks of war, environmental degradation, and social decay, but also of resilience and endurance. At the heart of her artistic vision stands the figure of the woman.

Sen gupta’s sculptures explore womanhood not as a singular identity, but as a layered and evolving condition. Her women are contemporary and eternal, personal and universal. They embody melancholy and strength, vulnerability and resistance. Some figures reflect the silent suffering of exploitation — bodies marked by the weight of societal expectations and patriarchal control. Others convey defiance, love, and an unspoken refusal to disappear. In several works, the female form appears almost mythic — tongue extended, not merely as a gesture of shame, but as an expression of anguish within a poisoned world. These figures inhabit spaces shaped by corruption, injustice, and moral decay. Yet even in their pain, there is presence. They refuse invisibility.

Sengupta’s sculptures also function as quiet acts of protest. They address the arrogance of patriarchy, the indifference of political power, and the erosion of human sensitivity in contemporary society. However, her protest is not loud. It is internal, embodied in gesture and posture, in the tilt of a head or the tension of a form. Her work does not shout; it insists. After a fourteen-year gap, the sculptor’s return is significant. In an era increasingly dominated by digital immediacy, Sengupta’s sculptures remind us of the enduring power of the handmade object.

Terracotta, shaped by hand and transformed by fire, becomes in her practice a medium of memory and resistance. Her sculptures exist not merely as objects – but carry the message of suffering and survival. Ekak Alakananda runs till 19th February, offering viewers a rare opportunity to encounter an artist whose work bridges tradition and innovation, intimacy and protest, fragility and strength. Drop in any day between 12 noon – 7pm.