Sohrab Hura can’t believe that Gen Z gets him

Sohrab Hura might just be the most Gen Z non-Gen Z artist out there. No, he doesn’t have a dedicated #Drawinggram account (yet), but his latest works—a riot of pastels, gouache, and irreverent humour—feel like scrolling through the best parts of your Instagram feed: meme-worthy moments, animals being, well, themselves, and the occasional biting commentary on politics and family that he scribbles as his titles.

“Honestly, I’m surprised I didn’t do this earlier,” Hura jokes about his leap from photography to painting. “You know, because I can just sit in the room and have fun and do my drawings and not meet anyone. Yeah, I’m tired of meeting people.” The transition happened during Covid, when a YouTube tutorial on drawing apples became the gateway to an explosion of creativity. Today, his drawings are on display at MoMA PS1 as part of his survey show titled Mother.

Animal kingdom of relatable feels

Hura’s pastels don’t just depict animals—they capture their personalities, which might feel suspiciously familiar. Case in point: ‘The Introvert’, where a lone dog stands in a pool surrounded by other canines, looking just as awkward as one might feel at a party. Or ‘Kebab Mein Haddi’,, a delightful work in which a dog unapologetically snoozes between a couple—a furry third wheel you can’t stay mad at for too long. These and other works from 2022 to 2024 have been collected in an anthology titled Things Felt But Not Quite Expressed, a look at the artist’s exploration of life through playful and poignant moments.

Cats aren’t left out, of course. In ‘Unfinished Argument’, a cat glares at a sleeping dog, while ‘My Mornings with the Human’ shows a cat serving up peak disdain as its human smothers it with affection. For any cat parent who’s ever loved (or been ignored by), this one hits hard.

“Not all of these stories are mine,” admits Hura. “They’re inspired by the world around me—memories, things I’ve seen, even things I’ve heard. I can talk about the human world through animals. These animals? They’re me, they’re you—they’re everyone.”

Born in Chinsurah, West Bengal, Hura’s journey to art was as varied as his early career ambitions. After completing a Master’s in Economics at the Delhi School of Economics, he switched to photography, teaching himself the craft. Hura is a Magnum Photos member and one of India’s most celebrated photographers today; he has also made short films that have been shown at festivals such as the Berlin International Film Festival. His vivid, sometimes surreal imagery evolved into visual journals exploring personal relationships and the complex systems shaping the Indian subcontinent—touching on themes like colonial borders and partition trauma.

But his recent transition to pastels at the age of 40 wasn’t just a whim; it was a necessity. After suffering lung damage due to Covid, he found himself physically unable to engage in the rigorous travel and fieldwork photography demanded. “Photography is so physical—you’re always moving, carrying gear, being in the thick of things. I just couldn’t keep up anymore,” explains the Magnum Photos nominee. Beyond health reasons, Hura also felt disconnected from photography as a medium. “There’s so much information in a photo, especially today when everything is sharp, detailed, and instantly consumed. It can feel overwhelming, even numbing. Pastels gave me something softer, slower—a way to reconnect.”

Soft pastels, in particular, appealed to him because of their impermanence. “They’re never really fixed. The dust smudges, the edges blur. It’s like the image keeps moving, changing. That felt alive to me in a way photography didn’t anymore.”

Meme material, but make it art

While Hura’s works tap into nostalgia, they also embrace meme culture with open arms—and maybe a bit of side-eye. ‘When a Good Person Enters Your Life at a Bad Moment’ is an instant classic: a guy sitting on a toilet gets interrupted by another guy walking in with a birthday cake. Awkward much? Then there’s ‘Parents on Zoom’, a snapshot of two pugs squished together, staring into a phone screen from a deeply unflattering angle. We’ve all seen that Zoom face before. And who could forget the cat gagging at the smell of tinned food? “My work is a mix of the personal and the wildly absurd,” says the artist. “Honestly, my book resembles my Instagram algorithm—it’s all over the place, but somehow, it’s me.”

Politics, family, and nostalgia

Like in his photos, Hura also sneaks his family into his art. One of his most unexpectedly personal yet cheekily provocative drawings shows a figure lying face-down, tenderly holding a foot adorned with glossy red nails, while another foot in sharp black stilettos hovers close. “I didn’t set out to draw my uncle,” Hura chuckles, “but by the time I was done, there he was, staring back at me. We all have those people in our families or for example that uncle of yours, that's kind of boring but you feel like there must be something kinky going on. This drawing was a way for me to get that point across.” The resemblance was so uncanny that even his family noticed, though they seemed more amused than concerned. “They just told me not to tell him,” he grins.

School choir, 2023

That sense of inherited nostalgia extends into other works like ‘School Choir’, and ‘Youngest Sibling’, which feel like fuzzy memories everyone shares—whether they’re true or not, it doesn’t matter. “I never had braces,” he admits. “But I’ve heard so many stories from friends who did that it became my own memory. My drawings aren’t about me—they’re about making something that can belong to anyone.”

His work dives into heavier themes, too, like politics and the complexities of family. ‘Bigoted Relative’ explores societal fractures, while images of the Babri Masjid subtly weave in the weight of India’s historical and cultural memory.

Gen Z energy, millennial scepticism

Despite all his artistic depth, Hura’s work has a surprising lightness. He’s having fun even when he’s critiquing. “I’m tired of sharp, perfect images,” he says. “They’re too slick to feel real. Drawings give me space to play—to be soft, messy, and human.” His work aligns with a growing Gen Z trend: purposefully distorting images, either by shaking their cameras or using apps. It’s a rebellion against the aesthetic they grew up with. “You all have grown up with perfect photos and hyper-curated feeds,” he says. “No wonder you’re blurring images on purpose now. I guess I’m just catching up!”

Whether it’s his pastel colours, meme-ready humour, or deeply relatable animal dramas, Hura’s art feels like a DM from a friend who just gets it. In swapping lenses for layers, he has crafted a world where animals judge, humans stumble, and every story feels like it could’ve been plucked from your own life. It’s art for the algorithm age, yes—but it’s also art for the heart.

Mother is on display at MoMA PS1 in New York until February 17. For more information, visit momaps1.org