Instead, it comes from candid portraits such as that of Mohamed Mahmood Alessa, a 20-year old in New Jersey who was appended by the FBI after he tried to join a militant group in Somalia. In her portrait of Alessa, Rockwell depicts him in bubble-gum pink tones, prone on a floral bedspread, cuddling with his beloved cat, Princess Tuna. Unsettling. The narrative of terror that we often see seldom contains photos of wannabe terrorists cuddling with their kitty cats, or of the underwear bomber as a sullen teenager, posing during a school trip.

I first came across Rockwell’s vivid, unforgettable portraits by chance, wandering around an exhibit at the Twelve Gates Gallery in Philadelphia. There, a series of small, glittery paintings of a regal, coy Benazir Bhutto caught my eye. Two years later, on February 3, Rockwell returned to Twelve Gates Gallery for the launch of The Little Book of Terror, where she read from her book to a rapt audience. Rockwell graciously agreed to build upon temporarily suspend the Sepia-Chapati friendship rivalry and share more about her book with SM readers.

Tell us about your time at Chapati Mystery.

About six months or so after I left academia in 2006, I reconnected with Manan Ahmed, aka Sepoy, and he asked me to write for Chapati Mystery. I’d never written for a blog before and I was not interested at first. But Sepoy guaranteed me complete anonymity and after a while I agreed and took the pseudonym Lapata. “Lapata” in Hindi-Urdu can mean anonymous, but also ‘disappeared.’ I had disappeared from my life as an academic, my vocation for fifteen years. I also began to sign my paintings with “Lapata,” because they were only seen online, and on Chapati Mystery for a couple of years. A part of me also wanted to escape the legacy contained within my real name, I suppose, that of my grandfather, Norman Rockwell. I wanted to make art without the burden of expectations that come with that identity.

 Was there a certain amount of hesitation about revealing yourself as Lapata?

Yes, I was happy with remaining anonymous, but after a while I realized that in the absence of any input from me, people invented their own story of my identity. It was clear that I was assumed to be Pakistani, mostly because Sepoy is, I suppose. I decided I’d rather have my own baggage than some invented identity, so I slowly went public, starting with my first art exhibit in San Francisco in 2008. I do continue to blog under that name, though, and all my paintings are signed in Urdu with “Lapata.”

Writing vs. painting. If you were forced to pick just one which would it be and why?

When I was an academic, I did pick one, and that was writing, of course. I stopped thinking of myself for an artist for quite some time. But I was very depressed. I didn’t even think I was going to leave academia to do art, I just knew I had to leave. But when I started to paint again, I realized that it was something I couldn’t live without, like eating or sleeping. Writing is very important to me too, but I suppose I could live without it if I had to.

How has the birth of your daughter refined your artistic process?

That’s a good question. Having a child refines your sense of available time, because all of a sudden you don’t have any. I have become much more efficient in my use of time, and, surprisingly, much more productive. I had a show opening in Canada recently, where someone came up and asked me what I did to get my mind off all the horrible things I’m obviously obsessed with (terrorists, torture, etc.). I said, “I have a two-year-old.” She said, “Ah, I understand now.”

How do you describe “The Little Book of Terror?” A collection of essays? An art book?

It’s both. In my creative process, the art usually comes first, but in some cases a project evolves in tandem, words and images come to me at the same time. It doesn’t take that long to read, because the art is part of what you are meant to ‘read.’ In that sense, it’s similar to a graphic novel. I am a great admirer of that genre, but, unfortunately, I do not have what it takes to pull off that kind of work. Let’s call it an art book with words. Or a words book with art.

Tell me about the cover of your book, it’s a very provocative pose. A young hijabi woman with a gun in her right hand sits cradled in the arms of a young man (ostensibly her lover), also armed. It’s a jarring portrait.

That painting is based on a photograph of the young woman who allegedly suicide bombed the Moscow subway in 2010. Her name was Dzhanet Abdullayeva and she was seventeen years old. The photo was a self-portrait of her with her husband, who had earlier been killed by Russian forces. I remember when I first saw the photo of her on the cover of the New York Times at a rest stop somewhere in Vermont. It’s the kind of grainy, low quality self-portrait people use on their Facebook pages. I couldn’t get it out of my head, which is usually how a painting starts for me.

In the introduction to your book, Amitava Kumar writes, “I think of Daisy Rockwell’s portraits as a bright, playful gallery composed of pictures that terrorists themselves might put up on their Facebook pages.” Comment.

Perhaps? I kind of imagine terrorists as being subscribers to some service other than Facebook, such as Orkut.

What’s your favorite portrait in the set?

I don’t like to play favorites with my paintings. It’s sort of like asking which of my children I like the best (luckily I only have one of those). I am very fond of portrait of John Walker Lindh, it’s nice and colorful, and empathize with his desire to really immerse himself in learning a language. The cover portrait I’m obviously attached to as well. But really, I love them all equally.

What have been the reactions to your book? The portraits are charmingly idyllic, but feature some of the most divisive figures in history. Can you tell me about the most negative reactions to them?

Well the book is just out, so I have not had that many reactions yet. But I’ve exhibited many of the paintings in different places, and weirdly I have had no negative reactions at all. I’m not sure why, but it might be because the message is ambiguous. Although there is a lot of sympathy in my portraits, I don’t think people think I am saying, “Go, terrorists!” My goal is to provoke thought and reflection, rather than to take sides.

Plans to publish again? This particular book features only a smattering of your paintings.

Definitely there is material for more publications, but I’m not sure which direction I want to go in yet. I also have some books just made out of words in the pipeline, so look out for those!

Amar Chitra Katha: Monica Ferrell, Chitra Ganesh, Keshni Kashyap, and Himanshu “Heems” Suri of Das Racist Does your knowledge about the Ramayana come entirely from comics your mom brought you from Jackson Heights? Or are you a comic book fan interested in engaging with one of the bestselling comics in both Asia and the world? Party down with the Workshop’s tribute to Amar Chitra Katha, the beloved Indian comic that’s sold more than 90 million copies, often featuring lovelorn maidens, fearless saints, and mythical kings romping around a half-toned South Asian fantasia, tinted yellow, blue and green.

I’ve read the Ramayana and enjoyed the comic versions too. I’ll also admit that much of my knowledge of the Bible comes from the colorful, engaging Amar Chitra Katha comics. For more details on the event, visit aaww.org.

The online art exhibit Skewed Demographic brings together artists to address the racial disparity in the bone marrow registry. Each piece in the online gallery is being auctioned off with proceeds going towards processing bone marrow testing kits.

Photographers Shirin Adhami and Sunita Prasad curated the show in honor of Photojojo founder Amit Gupta and other South Asian leukemia patients. Adhami first met Amit Gupta when both were undergraduates at Amherst College a decade ago. When Gupta first announced his diagnosis and his need for a bone marrow donor, Adhami was one of his many friends who rallied to action.

“Personally, I was working on doing drives and I was thinking of doing a more symbolic gesture,” said Adhami during a recent phone interview. “How could I reach an audience that maybe couldn’t donate marrow? How could it be more than a request for money?”

Adhami decided to put the call out to her contacts to see if they would be willing to donate their work to the cause. “The idea is photo-based, but the artists are not necessarily all photographers. The inspiration is really from Amit’s photo interest,” she said. “There were times that I have not even realized I was using one of his inventions until much later. He has really affected the photo world with Photojojo.”

The show debuted at the Queens Museum in New York last week and now exists solely online. Bidding closes on Monday, December 19, but Adhami says that she continues to receive donated pieces from artists and will keep bidding open for the newer items a bit longer. She estimates that about $10,000 worth of artwork has been donated for the auction.

The bidding process is simple: just email skeweddemographic@gmail.com with the amount you’d like to bid and the lot number of the item. Suggested minimum bids are listed on each piece’s page. As an added bonus, Adhami says one of the artists will send a small print to everyone who bids on an item.

Highlights from the show include this print by Bill Burke and a print by legendary photographer Joe Deal, who passed away from cancer last year. The print was donated by Deal’s widow Betsy and is not currently available anywhere else. Other items up for bid include prints by Jesse Burke, Tom Griggs, and Rebecca Heyl.

The two principal narrative arcs around which the exhibition is organized bring to life the complex and fascinating worlds of India’s great kings. They help us to understand the real people behind the objects that were made for them. The first goes behind the scenes to analyze the roles and qualities of kingship in India. The second traces the ways the institution of kingship shifted against a rapidly changing political and historical backdrop from the early eighteenth century through the 1930s, a period that saw a change in the maharajas’ status from independent rulers to “native princes” under British colonial rule.–Decoding Images of Maharajas

The exhibit is free this Sunday, October 23, when the museum will also offer a family fun day. In the process of rebranding the Asian Art museum has taken on a new logo, an upside down A (a symbol with a meaning of “for all” in mathematics) in a move to be more inclusive.

This behind-the-scenes video of a maharaja’s silver and enamel carriage being brought in through two large windows and uncrated inside the museum is from its multimedia page which has interviews with princes and their descendants, and some of the art conservators who prepared items for the exhibit.

Related: A profile of the Asian Art Museum’s assistant curator of South Asian art Qamar Adamjee in Desi Women, Offbeat Paths

Aakash Nihalani’s solo exhibition in India opened on September 24 and runs through October 22 at Seven Art Ltd. in New Delhi. Aalign presents new works in metal and wood sculpture, embroidered patterns on silk, interactive work shown on a tablet, and the installations of colorful, geometric tape work on the street for which he became known in New York. Nihalani shared a few thoughts after I asked him about his experiences in New Delhi and the differences and/or similarities between making street art in New York and New Delhi.

“It’s definitely been an interesting experience in Delhi….you do work in public spaces in New York and people are pretty used to seeing it, or at least the idea of street art. But here it’s a strange thing for someone to encounter a guy putting tape on a brick wall, or in a fruit stand. I feel like the ‘art’ you find on the streets in India is either functional, on signs and such, or religious, so it’s cool to be putting up work with a more abstract intention for people to experience.

It seems like Indians, including the authorities, don’t jump to the assumption that anything done on the street is vandalism, as they do back home in NY, but they are definitely still cautious of it….

And while the walls in india are tough to work on with tape, because they’re so dusty and often moist, the colors and the texture, and the deterioration of the walls make an amazing back drop for my clean bright lines.”

Images from Aakash Nihalani

Like the sound? Then check them out in San Francisco on Oct 5th at the 1320 Showcase. And be sure to facebook, tumblr, soundcloud, and bandcamp them to tell them what you think and hear more sounds.

Folding laundry is not usually interesting. I’ve done it while listening to music or watching TV and quickly put it out of sight and out of mind. But FOLD from San Francisco-based new media artist Surabhi Saraf offers an opportunity to ponder the mundane task in a different way. Saraf’s works meld music and choreography with experimental sound and video art. FOLD presents the seemingly simple act in a mesmerizing way, evoking dance, waves, and even rainbows as different colored pieces of clothing are folded.

FOLD {Live}, taking place over the next few weeks, is a series of site-specific public performances where people fold laundry to a choreographed routine. One of four San Francisco performances will take place this Sunday, 9/18, at the Federal Building at 4 p.m. Sign up if you are interested in performing in one.

Saraf’s Fold {Live} will also be presented at the upcoming Parramasala, an Australian festival of South Asian arts in Parramatta, Sydney. To learn more about the artist and her work check out this video portrait of her or visit her site.

This weekend the Bay Area will see another form of “Sita art”, this time in the form of a theater production. Siren Theatre Project’s production of Janaki – Daughter of the Dirt will be hitting the stage at the Mission Cultural Center in San Francisco for it’s world premiere this Sept 16th -18th. This ground breaking stage production written by Virali Golkadas touches upon issues of power, sexism and classism from the perspective of Sita.

“I wrote Janaki – Daughter of Dirt to show that Hindu goddesses, just like the women in my family, are not self-sacrificing devotees,” said playwright Virali Gokaldas.  “They are complex, powerful, strong-willed examples, helping us hold compassion for others and ourselves, guiding us when making hard decisions, and above all, giving us the courage to live out our own destinies.” [sirentheatre]

As for the controversy in San Jose, here’s what Virali and Anirvan Chatterjee have to say:

Our ability to recontextualize the Ramayana is precisely what makes it a living story, instead of a dead one….The Ramayana is as rich and diverse as India.  If our Indian traditions allow even a 180 degree twist like Ravana being the hero, then what right do protestors have to censors new ways of expressing the story?

As Bay Area writers who have our own visions of the Ramayana to share, we take the attack on the tradition of diverse Ramayanas personally.  The Ramayana speaks to us, just as it did to those creators whose works were being protested in San Jose. [sirentheatre]

Art for arts sake or art to honor and personalize faith? Check out the play this weekend and form your own opinion. And just for our Sepia Mutiny readers, tickets are only $20, with the discount code “Sepia Mutiny” over at Brown Paper Ticket. For more information on Janaki – Daughter of the Dirt or Siren Theatre Project, visit their facebook page and their website.

Need more convincing? Watch the trailer below.

His brightly colored geometric art made of electrical tape has been made and displayed on the streets, in galleries and on mixtape covers. As with his self-portraits, there’s a playful and interactive aspect to most of his work. To see that in action, watch Nihalani create and install Stop, Pop and Roll.

There’s something familiar and universal about his work, given the basic, brightly-colored geometric shapes. They may bring back memories of a long ago played game of Tetris or Qbert, or remind you of a doodle you once sketched. Some of them may even evoke M.C. Escher or a muggu/rangoli.

In videos available online, Nihalani speaks at length about his work, including Stop, Pop and Roll and Playground, a piece referencing Balloon Dog by Jeff Koons, in front of a gallery audience last year at Bose Pacia in NYC.

In an earlier Aha moment video, he explains what got him started in the art of taping.

ACHE IN MY NAME (short film) from Vivek Shraya on Vimeo.

If Shraya’s name sounds familiar then maybe you’ve heard his music or read his short stories. His alterna-electropop musical history includes collaborations with members from the groups Tegan and Sara, and Marcy Playground. Shraya, who grew up in Edmonton, self-published his first book last year, God Loves Hair, an illustrated collection of short stories about a queer desi youth growing up “as he navigates complex realms of sexuality, gender, racial politics, religion, and belonging.” It’s on the American Library Association’s Rainbow List and was selected as a finalist for the 2011 Lambda Literary Awards. Given that his music includes a collection of devotional songs called Bhajans for Mom, which can be heard here or downloaded here, I was interested to read his comments–which are a small part of a longer interview–about his experience with male and female roles in South Asian culture:

What stands out to me about South Asian culture is the places where those lines blur. There was always room for me to do things that in a North American setting are generally feminized, like cook with my mom, or sing at the religious organization I belonged to. In that space, strength wasn’t about muscle but about how devoted you were.

Read an excerpt from God Loves Hair: Eyebrows

Listen to a reading:

Or watch the video teaser:

GOD LOVES HAIR (Teaser) from Vivek Shraya on Vimeo.

Previously on SM: What’s in a name?