Desi Talk

www.desitalk.com – that’s all you need to know 2 0 ARTS October 17, 2025 Rubin Museum Himalayan Art Prize Goes To India-Based Khadhok – Tibetan Artists’ Collective The annual $30,000 prize is the largest of its kind in support of contemporary Himalayan artists T he Rubin Museum in NewYork, an- nounced the winner of its 2025 Rubin Museum Himalayan Art Prize — the India-based Khadhok – Tibetan Artists’ Collective. The Rubin Art Prize is a $30,000 unrestricted cash prize and the largest international award in support of contempo- rary art related to the Himalayan regions. Together, the Rubin Art Prize and 15 Rubin Grants will provide $230K of direct support to artists and researchers working in the Himala- yan region and internationally. “Working with Himalayan art and living artists has been part of our approach since the Rubin was founded in 2004,” said Rubin Museum of Himalayan Art Executive Director Jorrit Britschgi, in an October 8, 2025 press release. “As a museum without walls we hope to increase visibility and awareness of Tibetan and Himalayan art globally. The recipient of the 2025 Rubin Art Prize, Khadhok, shares this aspiration and has been leading exceptional work in Dharamshala in a short amount of time by creating space for artists to share their work, and to enable dialogues and moments of connection within the local Tibetan community. I am certain the impact of their work will continue to expand in years to come.” The Rubin Museum Himalayan Art Prize was estab- lished in 2024 to support living artists and collectives who have made a mark in creative and critically relevant dialogues between Himalayan art and contemporary life. The winner is selected by a jury of Rubin staff members and experts in the field. In 2024 the inaugural winner was Tenzin Gyurmey Dorjee. “We were deeply moved when we first heard about the award,” said the founding members of Khadhok, an India-based artist collective that is a platform for Tibetan artistic exchange, community engagement, and youth empowerment. “As a young collective, being recognized by an institution with such a long history in Himalayan art makes us feel truly seen and valued. This recognition strengthens our confidence and encourages us to keep growing. Most impor- tantly, it changes what is possible for Khadhok, allowing us to build a strong foundation that truly lasts and supports artists and our commu- nity for many years to come.” “I met the Khadhok collective last year in Dharamsala and have followed their projects since. To see them honored with the Rubin Himalayan Art Prize 2025 is profoundly mov- ing,” says Tibetan singer-songwriter and artist YESHE. “Khadhok’s practice doesn’t just exhibit but builds, creating spaces of intergenerational dialogue that give young Tibetan artists in exile both mentorship and a platform for experimen- tation, a form of resistance to erasure.” The annual Rubin Grants program was launched in 2024 in support of art and research initiatives that aim to promote the rich cultural legacy and living traditions of the Himalayan regions. As part of the second award cycle, the Rubin received 132 letters of inquiry of which 15 projects were selected with grant sizes rang- ing from $3,000 to $25,000, depending on the scale, impact, and needs of each project. Select- ed projects include a new conservation training program in Mongolia; documentation of historic art in central Bhutan and Nepal; research that focuses on the provenance of objects from a Tibetan Buddhist temple in Darjeeling, India; Tibetan visual art teaching resourc- es and materials for educators; a two-channel video installation in northern India that explores the Tibetan Buddhist concept of interdependence; new exhibitions, multimedia projects, and more. For information on the 15 research grantees, visit rubinmuseum.org By a StaffWriter PHOTO:TENZIN DORJEE,COURTESY OFTHE RUBIN MUSEUM OF HIMALAYAN ART Khadhok – Tibetan Artists’ Collective founding members Lea Taake, Tashi Nyima, and Tenzin Melak. Rafiq Bhatia’s Idea Of Jazz Has Grown Into A Force Of Nature T alking about “Environments” - a broad, beautiful new album from the jazz-adjacent guitarist Rafiq Bhatia - is like talking about the weather. Squint your ears at the tech Bhatia uses to make his sunshine and you’re talking meteorology. Surrender to his music’s big-sky grandeur and it’s more like metaphysics. If you’re drawn to the uncomplicated verisimilitude in his work - the song with “rain” in its title sounds like rain - you’re making chitchat at the bus stop. We needed this, didn’t we? And like the weather, it just happened. “This music is more spontaneously com- posed than anything I’ve ever released,” Bhatia says of the panoramic, first-take improvisations he created with percus- sionist Ian Chang and trumpeter Riley Mulherkar on “Environments” - perfor- mances that feel as distinct as the players involved, yet as faceless as the forces of nature that inspired them. “This thing of trying to evoke or conjure place, it kind of gives you no choice,” Bhatia says over the phone from NewYork. “You’re not trying to make someone think about who you are. You’re trying to make something about where they are.” For years, Bhatia has been inviting listeners to come to him. On previous albums, he funneled his jazz fluency through layers of production software, resulting in recordings that he describes as “sort of ice sculptural, ship in a bottle types of creations.” Now, drawn back into the gravity of the improvisational mo- ment, Bhatia says, “I’m basically merging the two practices,” improvising on his guitar and sending the signal through his computer. “I can grab fragments and sample myself in real time,” he says. “So I’m working with sound in that sculptural way, but I can do it with sounds that I’ve just generated.” Beneath his fingertips, this new meth- od feels intuitive. Inside Bhatia’s mind, against the tumult of America’s current sociopolitical mood swings, it also feels necessary. “It felt like I was painting a sanctuary around myself in this really insane moment in time, in the world,” Bhatia says. “Here in NewYork, in this cinder-block room that I’m in, I’m casting these shrouds around myself. It felt more visual than anything I’d done before. … And I would make a distinction between an escape and a sanctuary.” That’s a more thoughtful way of say- ing that Bhatia isn’t all that interested in soundscaping your next day spa visit. “So much music that deals with nature is kind of emphasizing the use case of creating a feeling of calm or consonance in someone’s life,” he says. “But when I say ‘therapeutic,’ I mean deep tissue. This is not intended to be some kind of gentle cleanse. We’re interested in the full spec- trum of what the natural world - and our dream of the natural world - can be.” On one side of that spectrum, there’s “Aviary I Sunrise,” a slow-motion crescen- do that reveals its majesty as unflinching- ly as the dawn. On the other end, there’s “Volcano,” an intensifying murmur of hot liquid heft. “There’s no better metaphor for sublimation and transcendence than the volcano,” Bhatia says. “Does it make you feel safe or calm? Maybe not. But is it therapeutic? I think so.” Profoundly, too. This volcano doesn’t behave like one in a cartoon. There’s no final kablooey, no conclusive moment of explosive catharsis. Instead, Mulherkar’s trumpet leaks lethal heat, Cheng’s drums become molten splashes, Bhatia’s guitar is abstracted into something as heavy and invisible as a threat. To listen at- tentively, with vulnerability and with patience, is to better contend with the interminability of menace in any form. We needed this, didn’t we? -TheWashington Post By Chris Richards PHOTO:Facebook @Rafiq Bhatia Rafiq Bhatia