The landscape between distance and belonging

Walking into Raga Rahman’s solo exhibition, you quickly realise that the central theme here is not the identity itself, rather the distance from it. There is a gap between the cultural heritage the artist carries and the reality she grew up in. Much of Raga’s work seems to revolve around this very gap.

Born and raised in Germany, Raga Rahman’s artistic training and intellectual development largely took place within a European context. Her connection to Bangladesh is largely a gift from her father, who is a Bangladeshi artist. Because she hasn’t lived here, her connection to Bangladesh is built from inherited cultural memories, stories and imagination, instead of direct experience of living here.

Yet, she is not an outsider. Within her family environment, and particularly through her father, she has come into contact with various facets of Bengali literature, artistic traditions and intellectual heritage.

Which is why, Bangladesh manifests in her work not just geographically familiar, but as a cultural space that is partially known, partially imagined and felt through inheritance. The exhibition’s title, ‘Unfamiliar Affinity’, captures this feeling of being a ‘familiar stranger’ perfectly.

The exhibition is a rich mix of photography, video, sound, and installation. But beyond the media, it’s Raga’s ‘eye’ that draws you in, the artist's way of seeing. She doesn’t try to explain her subjects; she simply observes it. She doesn't shout her conclusions; rather raises questions. Her artistic practice is essentially an exploration of relationships, between man and nature, memory and body or inheritance and experience.

This tendency is most evident in the photography series titled ‘Der Himmel über Dhaka’ (The Sky over Dhaka). Most photographers capture Dhaka from the chaos of the streets. Raga, however, takes us to the rooftops. From these high vantage points, the people below shrink.

They are no longer the central figures; they become small elements within the vast urban landscape. A child playing, a line of laundry hanging to dry, a quiet afternoon tea. The appeal of these images lies not in dramatic events, but in distance.

She sees the city much like the legendary Wolfgang Tillmans. Like Tillmans, Raga Rahman views the city not as a site of exceptional events, but as a layered space where everyday life happens in a thousand small ways. But unlike Tillmans, who observes a world he knows by heart, Raga is looking at a geography she belongs to, yet isn't fully part of. This makes her work feel intimate and distant, both at the same time.

Perhaps the most talked-about piece in the exhibition is titled 'Mosha marar jonno kaman daga' (To use a cannon to kill a mosquito). The title itself mocks the absurdity of our reactions

With the idea of using heavy artillery to destroy a tiny creature, the work centers on mosquito control activities in Dhaka. The work captures the city as it is swallowed by white chemical smoke. Familiar alleys and homes slowly turn into something dreamlike and eerie.

The real genius here is the ‘invisible enemy'.’ We never actually see the mosquitoes, yet their presence, or rather, their absence drives the entire narrative. Using images of electric mosquito bats and poses that look like they belong in a video game, Raga turns a mundane urban chore into a performative battle. It feels like a war against a ghost that is everywhere and nowhere at once.

This work brings to mind the Thai artist and filmmaker Apichatpong Weerasethakul. The cityscapes shrouded in fogging smoke, the battle against an invisible opponent, and the gradual transformation of daily reality into a dreamlike and transcendental experience create a dialogue with the signature characteristics of Apichatpong’s work.

Raga isn't interested in a dry critique of public health policy. She is fascinated by the way we try to build relationships with things we can't see—whether that’s a pest, a memory or a cultural world we’ve inherited but never fully lived in.

Another pivotal work is ‘Log Lady and Other Tales.’ Here, trees are no longer just scenery. Through a combination of sound and memory, Raga treats the trees as active participants in our world. Drawing on Adrienne Maree Brown’s Emergent Strategy and Jagadish Chandra Bose’s research on plant sensitivity, the artist seeks to rethink the relationship between humans and the non-human world. She does not use Jagadish Chandra Bose as a symbol of national pride; instead, she uses his ideas to challenge how we see the "non-human" world today.

Finally, My Body is a Blanket stands out as one of the show's most restrained and emotional pieces. It’s a video of a person simply folding a blanket, over and over. There is no plot, yet the absence of a story is exactly why it’s so powerful. The blanket shifts from being a household object to becoming an extension of the body and a vessel for memory.

The slow, repetitive movement brings to mind the work of filmmaker Chantal Akerman, who found deep meaning in the most mundane domestic tasks. Here, memory is not just a document you find in an archive; it’s an experience you carry in your muscles.

A similar impulse is felt in the work titled ‘The Wooden Choir.’ Through the fusion of wood, sound, and technology, she translates the potential presence of plants into an audible experience. It serves as an invitation for the viewer to ponder a question, if plants do carry a language of their own, are we truly ready to listen?

These two works can be viewed through the lens of Jumana Manna’s artistic practice. Much like Manna, Raga Rahman is deeply interested in plants, the environment and alternative methods of knowledge production. She brings scientific inquiry, folk experience and the potential presence of non-human entities into the same discursive space. Yet, her work does not seek to establish a rigid theoretical stance. It creates a field where new possibilities for the relationship between man and nature can be imagined.

In the landscape of contemporary art, there are many artists whose cultural heritage and personal life experiences do not occupy the same geography. Raga Rahman’s work is part of that broader reality.

She avoids the easy trap of ‘celebrating roots’ or making grand statements about being Bengali. Instead, one sees the effort of an individual carrying a heritage that is, to her, simultaneously familiar and foreign.

‘Unfamiliar Affinity’ does not offer a pre-packaged statement on identity. It creates a space to rethink the concepts of kinship, distance, memory, the body and our relationship with nature. Raga Rahman’s interest lies not in ‘finding’ her roots, but in questioning the very conventional notions of what roots are. It is in this inquiry that the true significance of the exhibition lies.

The exhibition opened on 13 June at Kalakendra in Lalmatia. Curated by Wakilur Rahman, the show will run until 30 June. It is open to visitors daily from 4:00 pm to 8:00 pm.