~ Anshuka Mahapatra
(Visiting Faculty, Department of Fine Arts
Sarojini Naidu School of Arts and Communication
University of Hyderabad, Telangana)
Stepping into Teaching: Challenges and First Encounters
Being a young visiting faculty member is both overwhelming and exciting. When given such an opportunity, one inevitably starts questioning whether they will be able to do justice to the position they have been offered. One major concern is how to approach students while balancing authority, especially when the age gap is only a few years. Additionally, there is the challenge of earning respect and establishing credibility despite being new to teaching.
During my first interaction with my students, I realized that they, too, were navigating a similarly uncertain and slippery terrain. They were being asked to question their four years of practice and experiment with new media. In an era where the very process of image-making is under scrutiny—bombarded as we are with an overwhelming amount of content and well-established artistic practices—it becomes even more challenging to process one's earlier work while encountering a myriad of new possibilities. This throws one into the void of figuring things out independently. However, since making art is an intimate practice, it does not have to be a lonely one. By this, I mean that while students must undergo the rough and intense process of thinking critically and materializing their concerns, they do not have to do so in isolation. This is where I can step in. Although I am still developing my own practice, I can offer them assurance. I was confident that I could show them possible directions, allowing them to decide what truly contributes to their artistic journey.
Understanding Student Backgrounds and Artistic Influences
Before diving into teaching and addressing the various genres explored in the contemporary art world, I needed to familiarize myself with the students' earlier practices. Given the geographical, cultural, and institutional influences shaping their work, I had to listen intently and welcome the artistic approaches they brought with them. At the Department of Fine Arts at S. N. School, students primarily came from Kerala and West Bengal, along with a significant number from Odisha, the Northeastern states, Karnataka, Delhi, Telangana, and Andhra Pradesh.
While I was familiar with the artistic styles of Bengal—given my background as someone from the neighboring state of Odisha—I found it challenging to decipher the imagery from Kerala. This wasn’t my first experience of this kind. During my master’s studies, I had faced similar difficulties in understanding the work of my peers from Kerala.
After much discussion and research, I realized that Kerala’s artistic style and approach are deeply rooted in its ideological and cultural history. The imagery often conveys themes of melancholy, grief, and violence, underscored by psychological undertones. Stylistically, it leans toward movements like automatism, surrealism, and expressionism, frequently using bold colors such as black and red. This recurring visual language intrigued me—what is it about these themes and aesthetics that continues to resonate so strongly with new generations of artists?
In contrast, Bengal’s emerging artists gravitate toward textiles, fabrics, kantha work, and rural women’s narratives—elements that have come to define significant aspects of contemporary visual culture. Rather than questioning their relevance, I found myself reflecting on how these longstanding traditions evolve over time. How do artists navigate between honoring cultural legacies and engaging with contemporary discourses? How does an inherited aesthetic shift in response to present-day concerns?
These questions preoccupied me during my initial months of teaching. I often felt uncertain—perhaps not because of the traditions themselves, but because I lacked the precise vocabulary to articulate these thoughts in a way that was both critical and respectful. Over time, I realized that instead of viewing students as representatives of specific regional artistic traditions, engaging with them individually provided deeper insights. This approach proved effective. Many students embraced the visual language of their regions not out of obligation but because their cultural experiences naturally shaped their artistic sensibilities. At the same time, as they encountered new artistic practices, they began to expand and reinterpret their visual languages in ways that felt personal and meaningful to them.
I understood that introducing them to a broad spectrum of artists and practices could encourage them to question their preoccupied artistic approaches. My lectures covered materials and methods spanning performance, photography, videography, and installation, aiming to show how these mediums emerged and how the boundaries between painting, sculpture, and even printmaking have become increasingly blurred. However, for them to adopt such practices meaningfully, their approach needed to stem from genuine intentions and deep personal concerns, whether rooted in their experiences or emotions.
The students displayed varying levels of skill and confidence. Some had an excellent grasp of technical aspects but struggled with conceptualization and articulation. Others were inherently insightful but faced challenges in execution. Nonetheless, all were enthusiastic to learn and improve in any way possible.
Rethinking Pedagogy: Teaching Contemporary Art Practices
I was responsible for facilitating two courses for the students of printmaking and sculpture: Ideas and Processes and Tangible and Intangible Forms in Art Practices. While these courses might seem straightforward on the surface, their depth required careful navigation in designing lesson plans. My goal was not only to expand the students’ vocabulary regarding the art world but also to encourage them to critically reassess their own artistic practices. This process was, in many ways, another phase of unlearning and unbecoming, but the key objective was to make students aware of this transition.
Both courses primarily engaged with the conceptual art movement, which gained momentum around the 1960s. I had to present its various genres in ways that resonated with contemporary practices and demonstrated how they could be incorporated into research-based artistic inquiries. On a superficial level, this all seemed achievable, but there was always a lingering anxiety—what if I went wrong somewhere? I relied on references from The Story of Contemporary Art by Tony Godfrey, as well as various online sources.
One of the most challenging aspects was understanding and teaching the concepts of tangibility, intangibility, materiality, and immateriality. Even after delivering lectures on these ideas, I found myself struggling to fully grasp their essence. Since art resists strict categorization, these concepts surfaced in different works in fluid and often conflicting ways—overlapping, juxtaposing, and resisting one another. For example, Yves Klein’s Zone de Sensibilité Picturale Immatérielle (1958) explored the immateriality of art while simultaneously incorporating tangible elements to initiate a ritual and spark concrete discussions around the idea. Addressing such complexities became particularly challenging when certain artworks embodied these concepts in ways that defied clear definitions. However, understanding these ideas remains crucial, as they enable artists to articulate their own work and critically engage with their peers’ practices.
Another integral aspect of my role as an educator was engaging with students in the studio space. This informal interaction allowed them to gradually open up about the challenges they faced. Many struggled with adjusting to the geographical shift—changes in food, climate, and living conditions often left them unsettled and homesick. Beyond that, navigating the campus and the local market for acquiring materials posed difficulties. The department’s location in the interior of North Campus naturally creates a quiet, immersive environment for artistic practice. However, for students new to the city, this physical distance from galleries, art spaces, and material markets presents challenges in terms of accessibility and engagement with the broader art scene. Over time, the architecture, the lakes, and the natural spaces within the campus become sources of comfort and inspiration, offering an organic way for students to build friendships and adapt.
Understanding these nuances, the studio itself becomes a place for genuine interaction, where we address the practical challenges of adapting to a new environment. Students are encouraged to carve out their own personal spaces by pinning images of artists who inspire them or adorning their surroundings with objects that hold emotional significance. This exercise is intended to help them develop a visual and conceptual language—one they will carry forward into their professional lives.
The course encourages students to question preoccupied artistic practices and experiment with new mediums, but it does not impose change merely to align with the institute’s long-established language. With the introduction of the National Education Policy (NEP), designing and curating coursework to align with contemporary artistic needs and trends has become an added challenge for facilitators. In my view, contemporary art is already overflowing with hybrid practices, making it difficult to discern whether the authenticity of art has been lost amidst elitism or whether creating art still holds meaning in a world where all possible forms of making seem exhausted. This thought lingers in my mind often—it is a challenging consideration, but one that remains unavoidable.
Nonetheless, one must keep creating and navigating through these complexities. The same principle applies to pedagogical discourse—while embracing innovation, we must ensure that we do not lose sight of the truth embedded in art or the truth of the maker.
Lessons from Teaching: Growth, Reflection, and Moving Forward
Through all of this, I have learned to be flexible, a bit more patient, and to allow myself time to adapt. However, I have also felt an immense need to devote attention to my own practice. I have struggled with this and still do, often feeling frustrated that it isn’t progressing in the way I want it to. But I also recognize that, even if not in execution, teaching has given me a more professional perspective. It has allowed me to embrace my practice with greater understanding and patience, giving it the time it needs to bloom.
My moments of pride and success come when students understand my lectures and are able to reflect those insights in their own practices. I have realized that meaningful change does not come through imposition but through self-introspection. It will happen for them when they are ready, just as it will happen for me when I am ready. Until then, teaching remains a two-way process of learning, and I am grateful to be a part of these aspiring artists’ journeys.
I will be continuing my position for the next semester. Although new courses bring new challenges, I have gained confidence in my capabilities and embraced the fact that learning happens when approached with intent—and that it takes time. So be it.
Comments