On letters, art and the things we still need to say

Dear RM & Nurrayah,

I have long advocated for the epistolary form of communication. Letters, with their deliberate pace and tangible traces - hesitations and idiosyncratic marks - reflect a uniquely human form of connection. They cultivate intimacy: each carries the writer's presence, signaling, "I thought of you." This gesture initiates a relational dynamic, as the writer anticipates the recipient's response. Your recently curated exhibition, Chitthi Aayi Hai - Letter has arrived (O Art Space, ongoing) – foregrounds this communicative potential. The title itself suggests anticipation and connection, evoking the experience of a letter's arrival and underscoring the social nature of correspondence.

Art functions as a transhistorical form of correspondence. Before museums, image-making was itself a means of communication. The earliest cave marks - never intended for gallery walls or museums - were messages. Through symbols, animal depictions and handprints, early humans established visual contact across time and space. These handprints are among the most elemental inscriptions: a visual assertion of presence, perhaps among the earliest declarative acts in human history.

Art transmits beliefs and narratives - evidence of an enduring impulse to connect. While modes of expression have evolved, the communicative drive remains. Artworks invite viewers to observe, interrogate and respond. Like letters, works of art are not merely vehicles for expression but occasions for exchange, implicitly asking: What is being communicated, and to whom? Artists' correspondence often discloses vulnerability and subjectivity absent in their finished works. The marks and gestures in these letters form a personal script. Artists have addressed letters to lovers, friends, patrons, institutions and fellow practitioners. These exchanges reveal uncertainty, frustration, affection, doubt and humour - qualities not always visible in completed artworks.

Within 'Chitti Aayi Hai', each artist employs a visual language as distinctive as handwriting, transforming their works into letters for the viewer. Marks become script, images become sentences and symbols comprise a visual lexicon. Once in the gallery, these private communications become public, contributing to a broader discourse. The exhibition reframes the letter as open correspondence: the personal becomes collective dialogue.

The artwork's journey - from origin to destination - makes the interval between artist and viewer essential. The idea of the artwork as an agent seeking its audience is evocative. Here, 'Chitti Aayi Hai' is not only a title but an invitation, announcing the arrival of something that solicits a response. Will you engage with this invitation? Will you devote attention to its meaning or allow yourself to be moved by another's gesture? The crucial aspect of correspondence is not the act of addressing, but the latent possibility of reply - the dialogic potential in every communication.

A letter acquires significance only upon its reception, just as an artwork is realised through viewing. Meaning is negotiated between creator and recipient. My own letter-writing arises from a desire to personalise communication, to address a specific interlocutor. This impulse - to acknowledge the other - may explain my resonance with your exhibition. Communication transcends mere transmission; sending is easy, but genuine reception and understanding require effort.

Thank you for illustrating that art continues to function as correspondence - showing that images communicate and artistic marks become a visual language. Every act of communication presumes a recipient. This is the enduring appeal of both letters and art: they persist in speaking to us, even in the absence of their creators. I now turn to the ninety-nine letters in the exhibition - some from friends, others from strangers - whose voices I am eager to encounter.

With affection,

Bano

September 2026