Phantom Lady goes gallery-hopping in Tokyo

“It’s much hotter than Bangalore,” Pushpamala N tells me on her way to Chūō City, Tokyo. We’re chatting on the phone while the artist is gallery-hopping through the Japanese capital, a pursuit she champions as the optimal way to experience the metropolis—and as a means to navigate its humidity, thanks to the air-conditioning.

Till May, the Museum of Kyoto’s old colonial-style edifice, formerly home to the Bank of Japan, was the location for Kyotographie, an international photography festival. On display at Kyotographie were Pushpamala’s reimagining of Abanindranath Tagore’s Bharat Mata and José Veloso Salgado’s The Arrival of Vasco da Gama. Soon after, in June, her iconic series Phantom Lady or Kismet, Return of the Phantom Lady, and The Navarasa Suite, clubbed under the title Dressing Up: Pushpamala N, went on display at Nexus Hall, a gallery space in Chanel’s Ginza abode.

Since 2004, the Chanel Nexus Hall has hosted a wide variety of emerging and established creatives who embody the creative spirit of Gabrielle ‘Coco’ Chanel. With her nuanced take on freedom and femininity, and the way she deftly slips in and out of costume, Pushpamala fits right in. “It’s my first time here, and I am quite happy to have been invited by Chanel. For the longest time, they’ve been one of the supporters of Kyotographie. And this is the first time they have an artist at both places: Kyotographie and Nexus Hall,” Pushpamala says.

“The exhibit in Tokyo is a mini retrospective of my work. Phantom Lady or Kismet is my first photo series from the late ’90s, once exhibited at Gallery Chemould in India, followed by its sequel. Both are collections of mise-en-scènes created by a cast and crew of friends, amateurs, and technicians, narrating the story of a formidable small-town girl who hasn’t been dealt the right cards in life,” Pushpamala explains.

Over the course of 46 photos, a provincial ingénue undergoes a glamorous transformation, donning a trench coat and a hat low over her face and accessorising with a studded belt, armbands, tassels, feathers, and jewellery. Pushpamala herself stars in these film-noir frames, parkouring through neighbourhoods of Mumbai—Bandra to Lalbaug, Kumbhar Wada to Fort. The character’s journey unfolds in an endeavour to “not turn into a cliché and explore the world” as a woman on the fringes of society.

“My work has been feminist from the very beginning,” Pushpamala reminds me, “and I have always told women’s stories while deconstructing the image of the woman.” Her signature subversion of gender and aesthetics casts a limelight on our socio-political hypocrisies.

The Navarasa Suite, borrowed from MoMA’s collection, is a graphic reminder of the theatrical influence that runs through the artist’s works. This series of sepia-toned self-portraits, captured by acclaimed photographer JH Thakker, draws inspiration from Sanskrit poetry and old Bollywood’s gaze on women, both as antagonists and protagonists. Thakker, a still photographer for Hindi films in the 1950s and ’60s, was celebrated for his classic portraits of era-defining movie stars, taken in his Art Deco-style studio in Dadar, Mumbai. “I used his early style of expressionist lighting with elaborately created shadows and narrative elements to create the photographic tableaux,” says Pushpamala.

Alongside photography, Pushpamala has had a rich, three-decades-long sculptural practice, much of it centred on terracotta. Yet even there it is clear that cinema defines Pushpamala’s artistic expression. “I love performance,” she asserts, “and I enjoy understanding the construction of preexisting work—or a new story—for me to then break it down. I enjoy producing, collaborating and working with others to create something bigger than myself.”

As further evidence of her collaborative oeuvre, scenographer Kentaro Yoshida has designed the luminous rosy cubes that house her works at the Chanel Nexus Hall. “It is a very modernist thing to visualise an artist alone with a canvas in their studio. Ateliers and assistants have always been a part of the artistic process. What’s important is that I edit the final work to my liking—right from directing the photographer to how the images are printed.”

Pushpamala sees it as a constant tug of war, an ebb and flow of opening up and letting people in and then journeying back to the core of the project: her own being. “During my time here in Japan, I got a chance to see the work of an artist who doesn’t even use his name. He doesn’t want anyone to know about him or his whereabouts. I think that’s brilliant too, to be protective of your life and identity and take yourself out of the equation in a way. But that’s not my purpose. I have always wanted to be in my work, and for my practice to be public,” Pushpamala adds.

After a sabbatical, the artist is back in the studio, brimming with fresh ideas and a list of people she would love to work with. Apart from a few sculptures that she’s been working on, Pushpamala has been delving into live performances recently. “Last December, I performed at Bengal Biennale, as Abanindranath’s [Tagore] Bharat Mata. I ritually cooked a recipe inherited from my friend [activist and journalist] Gauri Lankesh and served it to the audience.”

By now, the Tokyo sun has begun to mellow. When asked to offer advice to younger artists, particularly regarding self-representation within their work, her response is immediate: “I wouldn’t give any advice. Young creatives don’t need advice; they need support. We should let them do what they think is right for them and their work.”

Dressing Up: Pushpamala N is on from June 27 to August 17, 2025, at Chanel Nexus Hall, Tokyo