From Sapi to Venice: Skarma Sonam Tashi’s Journey Through Memory and Material

The artworks of Skarma Sonam Tashi, from the Indian mountains of Ladakh, are resonating at the Venice Biennale. That resonance has as much depth and breadth as the winds blowing in the Himalayas. Sonam Tashi, India’s delegate at the 60th Venice Biennale in 2026, is bringing the essence of Ladakh’s high-altitude culture, along with an artistic career that is developing at an unusual depth. Born in 1997 in Sapi, a pastoral community tucked away in the mountainous folds of Ladakh’s Kargil district, Tashi is a sculptor whose materials, philosophy, and form speak powerfully to the ecological and cultural challenges of our time. Since then, Tashi has emerged as one of contemporary Indian art’s most captivating voices.

Skarma Sonam Tashi completed her BFA studies at MFA, Jammu, in 2019, and his MFA at Kalabhavana, VBU, Shantiniketan, in 2021. His artwork has been displayed in group exhibitions in Delhi, Kolkata, Kerala, Gujarat, Hyderabad, and other Indian cities, as well as in a solo exhibition at the Ladakh Art and Media Organisation (LAMO) in 2022. He was awarded the Lalit Kala Academy Scholarship for 2021–2022, the 63rd NEA for Lalit Kala Akademi in 2023, and the Hyundai “Art For Hope Grant” in 2024. Through Sa Ladakh, he took part in the 2024 India Art Fair. The scenery of his hometown, Ladakh, is a major source of inspiration for Tashi’s artistic endeavours.

The Lalit Kala Akademi Scholarship, the Art for Hope Grant, the Space118 Grant, the Abir India Award, and, most significantly, the National Award at the 64th National Exhibition of Art—the first time a Ladakhi visual artist has received this distinction—have all been given to him in recognition of his visionary vision. After completing his MFA at the renowned Kala Bhavana, Visva-Bharati University, and his BFA at the Institute of Music and Fine Arts, University of Jammu, Tashi has used his academic knowledge as a lens through which his upbringing is given new meaning rather than as a break from it.

As part of the interview series, a conversation with Venice Biennale artists, Abirpothi, featuring Indian artist Skarma Sonam Tashi. The artist discusses in detail his work and his presence in the Venice Biennale.

Q: Your work often emerges from memories of growing up in Sapi, Ladakh. How has returning to those memories changed now that you are presenting work on an international platform like the Venice Biennale?

Skarma Sonam Tashi: My early childhood was spent in my village of Sapi in Kargil, where life was closely connected to nature and community. Farming, caring for cattle, sheep, and goats, and living in accordance with the seasons shaped our everyday existence. My family home, built by my grandfather using local stone, earth, and timber, remains a powerful memory of sustainable living and collective knowledge. Presenting work at the Venice Biennale has made me revisit these memories with greater appreciation. I now realise that what once seemed ordinary carries important lessons about ecology, resilience, and belonging. Through my work, I hope these local memories can speak to global conversations about sustainability and our relationship with the environment.

Q: Many people describe your sculptures as fragile, but they also carry a deep sense of endurance. How do you negotiate that tension between vulnerability and resilience in your practice?

Skarma Sonam Tashi: Fragility is at the heart of my practice. The delicate nature of paper-mâché, cardboard, and clay reflects the fragile ecology of Ladakh and the vulnerability of traditional ways of life. At the same time, these materials possess remarkable resilience when transformed through care and labour. This tension mirrors the mountains themselves, appearing permanent yet constantly changing through erosion, climate, and time. I see fragility not as weakness but as a form of strength that demands attention and care.

Q: You frequently work with papier-mâché, discarded cardboard, earth pigments, and recycled materials. What attracts you to materials that already carry histories of use and decay?

Skarma Sonam Tashi: My practice is rooted in sustainability, reuse, and slow making. I work with discarded cardboard, old notebooks, books, newspapers, and natural clay—materials that already carry memories and histories. Through soaking, pulping, binding, and shaping them by hand, I give them a new life and meaning. I prepare natural binders using lime (chuna) and tamarind seed powder, drawing from traditional knowledge systems. For me, material is not simply a medium but a language. The transformation of discarded matter becomes a metaphor for renewal, sustainability, and continuity.

Q: In several interviews, you have spoken about Ladakhi architecture as a form of ecological intelligence. What do traditional homes and monasteries teach us about sustainability that contemporary construction is forgetting?

Skarma Sonam Tashi: Traditional Ladakhi architecture demonstrates a profound understanding of climate and ecology. Houses built with stone, rammed earth, sun-dried bricks, and timber remain warm in winter and cool in summer while using locally available materials with minimal environmental impact. These structures embody harmony with nature rather than domination over it. Today, many of these sustainable practices are disappearing as concrete and industrial materials replace traditional methods. My work seeks to revive this architectural wisdom and remind us that sustainability has long existed within local knowledge systems.

Q: Your installation, Echoes of Home, reflects on disappearing architectural practices in Ladakh. Did working for Venice change the scale or emotional intensity of your engagement with these questions?

Skarma Sonam Tashi: Yes. Working for Venice expanded both the scale and emotional depth of the project. Creating the installation for an international audience made me reflect more deeply on the disappearance of traditional architecture and what it means to lose cultural and ecological knowledge. It became not only a personal reflection on my homeland but also a broader meditation on memory, migration, and sustainability.

Q: How do you feel about being among the first artists from Ladakh to represent India at an event of this scale?

Skarma Sonam Tashi: It is both a deep honour and a great responsibility. Representing India also means representing its diversity, including places like Ladakh that often remain on the margins of larger narratives. I feel proud to bring the stories, materials, and landscapes of my homeland into an international dialogue. It reminds me that India’s richness lies in its many cultures, geographies, and traditions.

Q: The theme of the India Pavilion deals with memory, migration, and belonging. What does the word “home” mean to you personally today?

Skarma Sonam Tashi: For me, home is not simply a building but a relationship with land, water, climate, and community. In Ladakh, homes exist because people learned to adapt to the environment rather than dominate it. Through Echoes of Home, I think of home as an ongoing dialogue with nature, memory, and care. It is something we participate in and nurture, rather than something we merely own.

Q: Your works often resemble ruins or archaeological remnants. Are you documenting a disappearing world, or imagining a future after collapse?

Skarma Sonam Tashi: I see my work as reimagining traditional Ladakhi architecture and the wisdom embedded within it. Rather than documenting disappearance, I hope to transform this heritage into a contemporary artistic language that speaks about sustainability, reuse, and ecological responsibility. The work looks both backwards and forward, asking how inherited knowledge can help shape a more sustainable future.

Q: You have described your studio as an “organised chaos” of paper pulp, notebooks, and salvaged matter. Could you talk about the physical process of making — how intuition, labour, and accident shape the final form?

Skarma Sonam Tashi: My studio is an organised chaos filled with soaked paper, cardboard, notebooks, clay, and unfinished experiments. The smell of paper-mâché soaking in water has become part of my daily life. I transform discarded materials through labour-intensive processes of soaking, pulping, binding, and hand-shaping. The process is slow, repetitive, and intuitive, allowing accidents and material behaviour to guide the final form. For me, making is both physical and meditative, where memory and material come together.

Q: How important was the Ladakh Arts and Media Organisation (LAMO) in shaping your artistic journey?

Skarma Sonam Tashi: LAMO played a transformative role in my journey. As a school student, I attended a workshop organised by LAMO where I met artists who introduced me to contemporary art and encouraged me to pursue fine arts professionally. Years later, after completing my studies, I returned to LAMO as an artist-in-residence. The mentorship and opportunities I received there deeply influenced my practice. LAMO continues to play a vital role in supporting contemporary art in Ladakh through workshops, exhibitions, grants, and artist residencies.

Q: Your practice seems deeply connected to slowness. Do you see slowness as a political or ethical stance?

Skarma Sonam Tashi: Growing up in Ladakh, life naturally followed a slower rhythm shaped by seasons and nature. That pace continues in my artistic process, where each layer of paper-mâché and clay requires patience and care. In a world driven by speed and consumption, working slowly becomes a way of respecting materials, labour, and the environment. It is both an ethical choice and a way of thinking.

Q: There is a strong ecological consciousness in your work, but it never feels didactic. How do you approach environmental concerns without turning the artwork into direct activism?

Skarma Sonam Tashi: Rather than making direct statements, I allow the materials themselves to communicate environmental concerns. Recycled paper, cardboard, natural clay, and handmade binders embody ideas of sustainability through their very existence. My work invites reflection rather than instruction. I hope viewers experience the quiet relationship between material, memory, and ecology without feeling that they are being told what to think.

Q: The India Pavilion foregrounds handmade processes and craft traditions. How do you see the relationship between craft knowledge and contemporary sculpture?

Skarma Sonam Tashi: Traditional craft knowledge continues to influence my practice. Ladakhi architecture features remarkable woodcarving and construction techniques, while paper-mâché traditions are preserved in masks and ritual objects. I combine these inherited methods with contemporary sculptural language and sustainable materials. My use of natural binders, paper-mâché, and clay connects different craft traditions while creating new possibilities for contemporary art.

Q: Did winning the National Award change your confidence or your sense of responsibility?

Skarma Sonam Tashi: Receiving the National Award was a historic moment for Ladakh and for me. It encouraged me to continue my practice with greater confidence while also increasing my sense of responsibility toward my community. The recognition demonstrated that stories and artistic voices from Ladakh can resonate nationally and internationally, motivating me to continue creating work with sincerity and commitment.

Q: When international audiences encounter your work in Venice, what do you hope they understand?

Skarma Sonam Tashi: I believe artworks should speak for themselves and allow viewers to bring their own memories and experiences into them. I do not wish to direct what people should think or feel. If the work creates a quiet space for reflection on home, landscape, memory, and our relationship with nature, then it has fulfilled its purpose. I hope visitors leave with a sense of calm, contemplation, and connection that extends beyond Ladakh to our shared human experience.