In the following interview I (Jeremy Eaton) spoke with members of Aravani Art Project, Poornima Sukumar, Shanthi Muniswamy and Karnika Bai, about the vibrant and distinctive work of their India-based trans muralist collective. Having completed 500 murals over the last ten years in India and abroad, Aravani continues to challenge public perceptions of trans people providing visibility and opportunities. Together, we discuss friendship, the challenges faced by the trans community in India and the formation of both their collective and the art they make.

Jeremy Eaton (JE): Many thanks for meeting with me Poornima, Shanthi and Karnika. This is a great opportunity for me to learn more about Aravani from people who are so deeply involved with everything that you do. I'd love to hear about some of the stories and work you have made over the last ten years and hear about the collective itself. To begin, could you talk about how the collective formed and when you each became involved with Aravani Art Project?

Poornima Sukumar (PS): Aravani Art Project started as a way to simply be visible in public space. Being a cis woman, I was finding some challenges in doing so, especially because a lot of spaces in India are occupied by men. It was beginning to bother me as an artist because I liked to paint walls. I remember painting walls alone and it felt good to occupy a space with a purpose. I felt like this could extend to other communities and people who also needed this public representation.

I got introduced to members of the trans community in 2012 while shooting a documentary with a London-based filmmaker. I did not particularly like how the documentary was made, as it followed a white gaze. I was the line producer and translator who helped keep her in touch with the community and during this process I no longer saw the community as subjects but as friends. I had never met anybody from the trans community before that, nor did I have any prejudices. I went with a very clean slate and that helped in a way. I work with friendship as my biggest artistic foundation and so I made a lot of friends in the trans community. Together, we started Aravani.

Early on I realised that I was not able to digest the fact that many of my friends from the trans community are not able to use public space or be in spaces just because of the way they are. We all discussed this together and we decided, okay, let's not discuss it anymore, rather we'll just go out there and paint a wall and see what happens. There was no rule book. I am not a social activist, nor am I from a background of social work. So, everything was just an experiment.

The name Aravani comes from a huge festival that happens near Pondicherry in Tamil Nadu, where a congregation of 50 - 70,000 transgender women get married to a God named Aravan in that temple. The people who get married to Aravan become Aravani.¹ And I had the privilege of seeing this festival back in 2012, and it blew my mind. The name persisted for me and that is how we came to be named Aravani Art Project.

Shanthi Muniswamy (SM): I came to know about the Aravani Art Project through social media. I was on Facebook and saw the name Aravani, which is something that refers to trans women. So that attracted me. And when I checked their profile, I saw they were doing some amazing work with the transgender community. I texted Poornima and met her at an art festival. After that, it's like magic!

Karnika Bai (KB): For me, it was around 2017. I just completed my high school graduation of the twelfth year. A gay friend (I was a gay at the time, just exploring myself) said ‘we are painting on a metro wall, come and paint with us’. In India, there is a community called hijra, before I was a part of the hijra community, Aravani called for members of that community to come and paint. It was there that I met Poornima di and Shanthi di. Shanthi di first looked at me and said ‘you belong to our community’ and she hugged me. I always remember Shanthi di, your words. She welcomed me and it's been nine years and we are continuously growing. It has been an amazing journey, and we continue to explore together, create together and make memories. Memories and magic. 

JE: It's definitely magic. Especially seeing the artworks, even in images. I can imagine the impact and effect they have on the public spaces that they occupy. The color is so rich and the imagery striking.

I think it was vital Poornima, how you were saying that friendship is a big part of your practice. It seems like, hearing Shanthi and Karnika, that many become involved in Aravani through friends, networks and even social media. I'm interested in how this network and structure has developed over time: was it very organic or was it invitation based? How did the structure of Aravani form? 

SM: It was organic. It started as a small experiment that Poornima initiated quite casually. Poornima would come to our house for coffee and chai and meet other trans community members, building friendships and trust, and then we would move forward with the artwork that we do.

PS: Unfortunately, we don't have a set structure. If there is a structure the pressure to follow it becomes more than recognising what is happening then and there. My background has not been working for an organisation or running businesses. It became a little challenging for me to handle the growth because I was not equipped for it. Even hiring somebody felt difficult because they needed to be sensitive and they may not be able to understand. Even within the community, at a grassroot level the challenges are a lot. We also straddle the world of art and the world of social work, and keeping my legs on both boats is still a balancing act and it is never easy.

All of this has meant that we are working out our own structure. We all work on a project-to-project basis, yet we are not working full time with Aravani. A lot of our time goes into planning projects with the backend team or designing. I will also call different trans people for stories and anecdotes for different themes. We are heavily doing commission projects because it's important to have the livelihood option without which this project would not even exist. But giving our time to these commission projects has its pros and cons because while it provides some income it doesn't give us enough time to go deeper into the community.

In a way that also makes it slightly easier because people get time to do their own things. For example, Karnika has also branched out and started her own foundation as well (the Equal Voices Astitva (EVA) Foundation).

SM: It's not easy to come out of the hijra culture that we follow here in India. Individually doing something apart from what the community does on a daily basis is a difficult task. I have to ask permission from my Guru, who is my mother in the hijra culture, in the transgender community. And these are the difficulties that we face. At least nowadays the trans community is a little better educated. When I joined the transgender community, we were all high school dropouts. We couldn't continue our studies after the tenth standard. So education and asking permission within the community can be a difficult thing.

JE: Do your communities understand a little more now that you've been practising as artists for a while?

SM: Yes, after the social media exposure, I think the coming generation of the transgender community are more aware about Aravani Art Project and the different work that we do in the mainstream.

JE: So much of the work you do is about being visible in the public sphere. You do murals, at train stations for instance, you do them within your community, but there are also public art commissions. Thinking of that visibility can you talk about what it means to be in public spaces, physically painting and telling your stories? And how does the public interact with your work?

KB: I remember back to 2022 we were painting, laughing and talking about society and all, when two guys walk by and said, 'see, trans, hijra, now they are also painting!'. They were questioning our identity because in India we have one of two options, which are either do sex work or beg. For the first time they saw us and said 'hijra are painting now'. Do you remember Shanthi di?

SM: Yes, of course. And all the men were staring at what we were doing, and they were really surprised to see some trans women doing a public artwork.

KB: And the visibility changed after we completed the wall. Because one by one until the Sunday, men came staring at us, singing and they were giving us compliments like ‘wow you are doing such a nice job. You are trans and can be an artist’. These attitudes can change over time and so for me, we have to maintain the process and wait for the results. After the process, the result will explain everything about what we do.

SM: Correct. And it does not matter if the men spit or urinate on the wall, we are doing something valuable.

PS: And that really happens here, by the way. Even if we paint a wall in India it doesn't mean it's protected, or it's given a lot of importance unless it's commissioned by somebody. Then, of course, there are different measures that are taken to try and protect it. Over the past ten years, we have painted more than 500 murals and there are about 40 other women involved as well. So, there are many experiences like this. These experiences in India and the way we are treated is very different to say the experience of painting at the Venice Biennale. Because a change needs to happen here.

SM: My first wall project was after meeting Poornima, we shared our numbers. And one day she texted me, there is a small painting that we are going to do. Come out to my place. I went to Poornima's place. She told me that we are going to paint a government school library. I was frozen scared because I was afraid of children. I was concerned that if one kid came to know that I was transgender, the whole school will look at me in a very awkward way and I'll feel humiliated. Halfway there I said, ‘Poornima, I don't want to come. You stop the bike here, I'll go back to my home’. She said, ‘nothing will happen. Please come’. So we went to the school, we met the headmaster of the school and we started to paint. A few kids were very curious about what we were doing and they came very close to watch and wanted to participate. During that process, one kid asked me, ‘ma'am, can you tell me how to draw this?’ It was very surprising, you know. Kids don't gender us in the same way. It is the parents and elders who teach them that transgender people are criminals, transgenders are bad, transgenders are kidnappers. I felt very happy at that moment.

JE: It's amazing how art can allow people to make some of those connections as it can be an object or activity that we gather around, which softens boundaries. You mentioned that the experience of doing Venice was very different to when you work in India. I'm curious to know about some of those bigger commissions that you mentioned versus your more community-oriented work and what is more meaningful for you as artists?

PS: Personally I'd like to be more on the ground, meet new artists and more trans people. That's what drives me and keeps me alive. I've not been able to do that lately. But it has also been beautiful to be in another country and to feel appreciated. People in other countries look at us differently and also talk to us differently. Even though it can be pretentious and might be short-lived, it's still beautiful. We don't get that so much in our own country. So it's sometimes very nice. And I think from my observation, and I'm just taking the liberty to talk on behalf of the trans women who have traveled with me, they often feel so free in these countries. Although perhaps not Poland. While Poland was fun, we had to be a little on our guard. But I think Venice was extremely fun and particularly freeing.

SM: For me, it was like a dream come true. Going to Venice was the first time I had been to another country. I met global audiences, different artists, and saw different forms of art. Even though there was the change of place, change of culture, change of everything, we liked it.

KB: Like Shanthi di already said, this was a dream come true and also my first international trip. I'm from Jaipur, Rajasthan, and whenever I dress up and express myself in the street people judge and mock us with abusive words. But when I was in Venice, I walked the streets and nobody judged me, nobody looked at me. They never saw me as a trans woman. Especially on the opening day, so many people came and appreciated our mural (Diaspore, 2024). We had the privilege as a trans collective to paint a 100-meter curved wall, which we did within twelve days. It was a big opportunity and also a big achievement for us.

Being in Venice changed my mindset. When I came back to India I wondered what should I do for my community? What should I give to my community? And that's why I started my own foundation. Going to another country helped me be more inclusive of myself and other people. Now I feel differently about my hijra culture and my trans community in India. I know there is a place where I got respect and got more opportunities to show my art. Because before I'm a trans woman, I'm an artist, a self-taught artist, and people can accept me for who and what I am.

JE: That is so powerful Karnika. I am interested in the artistic style of Aravani Art Project, everything you do is distinctive, with bold and graphic designs. Could you talk about how the Aravani style developed and the different ways members contribute and participate?

PS: Our style and way of working is still growing. When we started the collective, we realised that a lot of the community did not have prior knowledge of the arts. We would all learn to paint shapes and colors directly on the wall. The more we painted walls, the more practise everybody would get. We never had a theoretical approach to this. Initially it was challenging to get people involved so we had to come up with a device. We started to  include forms and figures using the shapes that were already taught. It was a process where people could paint within the lines, then they're able to recognise colors and relationships between shapes. The next step was to put these shapes together to make forms. That's what happened and how the style developed. The biggest input from the community was to start to paint faces of trans people, because that's what we don't get to see, what everybody negates, and what everybody wants to hide.

So why not start with the faces of people from the community and also lived stories of people from the community, voices and messages that they want to portray through the paintings? All our work for the first two or three years was a lot about what the community wants to talk about and included faces of trans people, alive or dead. Then of course we were bombarded by commissions and things changed. Our style slowly became a little more corporate by nature because it had to fit generic spaces, which do not need to be gender specific. We not only had to give exposure to the community but expand from the topics that we paint to acknowledge that everyone is also getting trained as professional artists, and it would be redundant as artists to not work on other topics.

Of course, sometimes we would have to bite our teeth and do jobs for corporates who can be damn irritating. We would be painting and someone would say ‘this guy is wearing shorts. We don't have shorts in our office’. And we'd be like, ‘okay, we'll remove the shorts’. A certain uniformity comes into paintings in those contexts. By now, with all our experiences of painting so many walls, we know what the design will be for a corporate wall, what it will be if we are painting a wall that is about us, that is about the collective, that is about gender, or that is specifically about the trans community.

JE: Shanthi and Karnika, can you talk about any kind of stylistic artistic contributions you've made to designs over the years?

SM: Beyond the geometric forms that are the basis for Aravani designs the transgender community in India love bold colors like red, blue and green. These elements allow all our voices to come together. We had a debate with the first mural that you did in Bangalore, Poornima, where the transgender faces had little layers on the facial structure. I said that ‘this is very offending for the trans community’, we go through intensive laser treatment and we pluck the hair that we have on the face.

PS: Yes, and in other instances Shanthi you have contributed several ideas which go on the walls. Even in Venice, the work had portraits of all three artists who came with us. Each person painted their own portraits on the wall. The wall was about diaspora and the journey of becoming, so each had versions of themselves. So a lot of our paintings have pictures of the people from the collective or their friends, because it's so close to home. We know their stories, we know what their experiences have been. We don't have to imagine these things.

KB: On my first day Poornima gave me a huge patch to paint but I wouldn’t. I came from an underprivileged and marginalised community, and I didn’t know how to paint. That's why I love Aravani’s style. I now explore a lot of colour mixing, and now know how to mix colors very well. Poornima di loves my colors. Every time you tell me ‘you’re mixing a lot of color, please control, Karnika. Don't make a lot of color’. So for me Aravani’s art is a colorful combination with a mindset that allows community to come and paint.

I recently made a postcard for Bulgari. For the work, I used my own portrait where half of my body is a snake and the other half is my face and chest. The idea comes from a folk story in India about the Goddess Manisha. She is a daughter of Shiva and Parvati, but Parvati never accepted her as a daughter. That's why she throws a rose petal on her eye, causing her to  lose one eye. But she never complained and didn’t do anything to her parents. She was grounded and was powerfully herself, showing to society that she can be whoever she wants. That same idea relates to being a trans woman. I can show my abilities to society, I just want the opportunity.

JE: It is a gift to be able to imagine yourself in these roles and to tell your stories through the mural and these other projects. I know you're coming into the ten year anniversary so I wonder what is next for the group?

PS: We just painted a 100 feet long wall in front of the government hospital for women and children for the Kochi-Muziris Biennale. The painting is largely about solidarity between women, scenarios from Kochi and things that will make people feel a little more calm when they're in a hospital premises. The team who painted there were four trans women and two cis people who had a ball painting it. Given the location we hope that it does more good for the people using the hospital since it is not visible in the Kochi Biennale festival at all. We are a bit unhappy about it actually as barely any of the Biennale crowd has seen it.

We have a couple of other commission projects coming up and we received a small and humble grant from Pride Fund to be able to train five or more trans people in Bangalore and other cities. Shanthi might be part of a project that happens in Germany but that is still in the pipeline. We are hoping something comes up or some mural festival invites us or some festival invites us to come and paint. That's something I am trying to manifest by putting it out in the universe.

KB: Jeremy, we are also looking, from you, to invite us to Australia and we would love to come and paint.

JE: We would love to have you! Natalie (King) and I are scheming. Thank you so much for sharing, the community work you do in India is so important and its impacts extend to queer people everywhere. As much as everybody all over the world is starting to love your art, I respect your commitment to value your community and continue grassroots work. It is a beautiful and transformative practice that shows how visibility, friendship and community in art can change lives and perspectives.