For the last thirty years, Kapil Mani Dixit has been obsessed with the naked human figure. All he has painted are female and male nudes. He has drawn the human body so often that he can paint them from memory. The intention is not to draw perfect bodies like Greek statues, but evoke emotions about human force, frailty or beauty among viewers. “I don’t need models anymore,” says Dixit, who has a solo exhibition Lines of Emotions: Nude Expressions at Takpa Gallery this month. The works break the rules to convey human emotions in a raw, unprocessed style. Fingers can look like toes, and eyes can take the place of heads. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/south-asia-in-the-abstract">South Asia in the abstract</a>, Vishad Raj Onta Only seeing it as nude art would not do justice to Dixit’s pieces. In one painting, a warped female figure is lying on her side, her body spilling onto the ground. “The inspiration for this one was when I saw a woman reclining comfortably in a park,” explains Dixit, moving on to another painting also inspired by a park spectacle: a couple embracing, one figure behind the other making the body look double-headed, multi-armed and hugging itself. Dixit keeps the colours simple and does not hide the underpainting on the canvas. The bodies are jarring but fascinating to look at, they are deliberately imperfect as the artist lets his intuition guide the process.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250103130144_402251ccfa231c45e24caa509dda3b111c3de2c119605db8473cf02fa03fe5d0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250103130144_402251ccfa231c45e24caa509dda3b111c3de2c119605db8473cf02fa03fe5d0" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="ART"></figure>  “I don’t paint over mistakes. They don’t matter to me. Sometimes there are six fingers instead of five,” he says. “I work every day, all the time, fast, in flow. I don’t know what’s going to come out when I sit down to paint.” In many of the paintings at his show, Dixit has abandoned the brush and painted with his fingers, likening this to the feeling of sculpting with clay. The spontaneity and improvisation is different from <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/nepali-art-going-places">traditional Nepali art forms</a>. But Dixit has faced criticism throughout his career for the nudity he portrays, with some saying it is ‘un-Nepali’. When asked, he replies with the air of someone who is tired of answering this question: “That does not make a lot of sense to me, since I am a Nepali and this is my work. Just look at the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/kathmandu-s-temple-restoration-after-1934-quake">temples in Kathmandu</a>, you see nudity everywhere.” And yet Nepal deserves a lot of credit: it is a lot more tolerant than many other places in the world today. Even in the US, one of Dixit’s exhibitions was deemed suitable only for people 18 and over. There is no such label at Takpa. “Actually, the art audience in Nepal is quite open-minded to new ideas,” he says. “But I still wish my work would start to be seen more as a form of self-expression, rather than just focusing on the nude aspect. My children have no problem saying in school that their Dad is a nude painter.” Indeed, Dixit thinks he was inspired by his father who used to sketch the human body. He shifted later from drawing landscapes to painting the humanscape. Dixit always knew he was going to be an artist, but it was while pursuing fine art at the University of Texas in Austin that he began drawing nudes. “It was pretty unheard of, for a Nepali, to study art. People were always pushing me towards more sensible fields, like tech,” recalls Dixit, who worked fast food, pizza delivery, and gas station jobs to pay his way. Read also: <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/review/Manandhar-fourth-exhibit-Nepal,2641">Empowering expressionism</a> Dixit says he has gone through phases as an artist, and currently he is fascinated by eyes. Large, complex eyes are present in almost all of the pieces at the Takpa exhibition.“The human eye reveals a person’s naked emotion,” he says. “I started painting eyes during the pandemic after noticing how people’s eyes were full of fear and confusion. And with everyone having masks on, the eyes were much more prominent.” Given the modern taboos about nudity and the lack of understanding of expressionist art in Nepal, Kapil Mani Dixit’s exhibition is courageous and contemporary. Lines of Emotions: Nude Expressions by Kapil Mani Dixit Takpa Gallery (4 January - 1 February)

Vishad Raj Onta

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Review

Visible to the naked eye

Four Nepali and four Dutch artists will feature in a project to draw attention to what has been lost as Kathmandu Valley is transformed from an integrated rural-urban society to a metropolis of 4 million people. The transition has happened just in the last 30 years with the growth accelerating after the start of the 10-year conflict in 1996. What was once an emerald valley has turned into a concrete jungle. The NEDNEP3 2024/2026 art project of the eight artists will unfold in two phases with a current show till 5 January in the Netherlands, and during the Kathmandu Triennale in February 2026. The ongoing exhibition is in the northern Dutch city of Haarlem at <a href="https://www.devishal.nl/kunst/from-burning-rice-fields-to-urban-growth/" target="_blank">De Vishal</a>, a popular hub of contemporary art.&nbsp; The exhibition is curated by Dutch artists Erna Anema and Renate Schwarz, who have been frequent visitors to Nepal and they have selected the works of four Nepali artists (Sujan Dangol, Kripa Tuladhar, Sunita Maharjan and Sagar Chhetri) along with artists Maartje Smits and Liesbet Bussche and themselves from The Netherlands. Anema and Schwarz spent five weeks at the ceramics workshop of Dil Bahadur Prajapati in Thimi, making their ceramic sculptures for this project and meeting Nepali artists and planning their collaboration. Sujan Dangol was in The Netherlands during the preparations and the grand opening of the exhibition at De Vishal in Haarlem. He also conducted workshops there and at the renowned Rietveld Academy in Amsterdam.&nbsp; Erna Anema’s work is titled Moraines to Clay and uses clay, oil on canvas in a large installation. She says, “I want to take you on a journey from the pressed clay circles of the Kathmandu Valley supported by sculptures representing the moraines to the towering ice giants of the Himalayas, which are represented on the left wall in sculptural forms.” Anema’s installation includes two clay tiles sourced from one of the valley’s remaining fertile rice fields.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024122804128_04e9ed612274775036fc408a7d957e446b84402926b535c7b740ccd0b4a84442.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2024122804128_04e9ed612274775036fc408a7d957e446b84402926b535c7b740ccd0b4a84442" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1333" loading="lazy" alt="From Burning Rice Fields to Urban Growth"> <figcaption>Erna Anema's Moraines to Clay</figcaption> </figure>  Liesbet Bussche’s Building Rings are grinded and sanded out of clay blocks, a light building material often used in quick expanding areas of the city. The installation of the carved rings is combined with brick dust and explores urban materiality from a makers perspective. Liesbet’s first project with clay was realised with Pukar Risal in 2008 in the streets of Kathmandu during NEDNEP 1. Kripa Tuladhar’s Remembrance of Shadows is made of traditional lokta paper and thread and evokes the Asan neighbourhood, which she says becomes a canvas of its people, marked by those who have passed through it. “Layers of movement from the footsteps of our ancestors, crumbling bricks and windows, and the future pushing its way against the old reshaping it,” she adds, “cutting out these traces in paper, layering them, like the city’s layers of history, memories of the city are encapsulated in fleeting shadows.” Renate Schwarz has sculptures titled Jars of Then and Now with clay and plastic taps that draw attention to water. The abundance of it in the lake that was once Kathmandu Valley, torrential rain, the glacial streams in the mountains. Water irrigated the Valley’s soil, making it fertile. Says Schwarz: “The transformation of the Kathmandu Valley has struck me ever since my first visit in 1984. What a mega tsunami of change has come over this valley … with my sculptures I express the delicate balance between water, clay and craftsmanship.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024122804124_92e1b1a2b10f9fc3e91691989bf44302d9b1ce81c77b0187db2c9f0e3579667d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2024122804124_92e1b1a2b10f9fc3e91691989bf44302d9b1ce81c77b0187db2c9f0e3579667d" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1333" loading="lazy" alt="From Burning Rice Fields to Urban Growth"> <figcaption>Renate Schwarz's Jars of Then and Now</figcaption> </figure>  Nepali photographer Sagar Chhetri’s Brutality of Geometry explores the definition of land and how earth, soil, vegetation all become monetised commodities. The photographs depict the greed that drives the ecocide of hillsides by real estate ‘plotting’ on the Valley’s rim. The photos show maps of property, and Chhetri explains: “As an artist, I wish to respond to and investigate this geometry of brutality on the land in depth.” Sujan Dangol’s Mandala is a mixed media tribute to the original fertility of Kathmandu Valley with a collection of 54 types of grain, beans, and spices that used to grow here. He also collected bamboo, copper, glass, plastic, and steel utensils to represent the shift from an agricultural era to an industrial one. “The place which we call home—the Earth—is not only ours. Coexistence with animals, birds, plants, insects, water, and soil is essential for the well-being of our Ecosystem,” Dangol says.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024122804124_058b88c5a00c1a8ab178b37a734cfb900eeb090d8e5602eb6469049e28300a98.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2024122804124_058b88c5a00c1a8ab178b37a734cfb900eeb090d8e5602eb6469049e28300a98" data-rendition-name="original" width="1333" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="From Burning Rice Fields to Urban Growth"> <figcaption>Sujan Dangol's Mandala</figcaption> </figure>  Sunita Maharjan’s Curtain of Change is stencil print on handmade cotton and depicts her hometown of Kirtipur, where the ancestral lands of her ancestors are now occupied by Tribhuvan University. “The continuous influx of students has altered the fabric of Kirtipur - both figuratively and literally,” Maharjan says. “In Curtain of Change I want to document and comment on the evolving identity of my hometown, where urbanisation, industrialisation, and educational migration intersect, leaving both visible and invisible marks on the community.” In Wild Bees in the Netherlands Maartje Smits uses letterpress prints on paper to show the &nbsp;sudden disappearance of honeybees in Europe, and how the artist decided to become a beekeeper, hoping it would help. But honeybees are competing for survival with wild bee species. “Just as with the Kathmandu Valley, the Dutch landscape has been hollowed out and built up.” She says. “Food and nesting places for flying pollinators are scarce, so trying to save one species can mean the demise of another.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024122804124_16461120522a119da0966d714da5e20f67c123fccc8a029419dc344e5d6b35ea.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="2024122804124_16461120522a119da0966d714da5e20f67c123fccc8a029419dc344e5d6b35ea" data-rendition-name="original" width="1658" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="From Burning Rice Fields to Urban Growth"> </figure>  NEDNEP3 2024/2026 From Burning Rice Fields to Urban Growth De Vishal, Haarlem (29 November-5 January) Kathmandu Triennale in Nepal (February 2026)

Rice fields to concrete terraces

This year’s Miami Art Week brought high-profile openings and exhibitions with some exciting exhibitions and installations from South Asia and Nepal. The event was a dynamic mix of galleries, immersive installations and schedule packed with must-see art fairs, pop-ups, and cultural events with Art Basel taking centre stage.&nbsp; This was the 22nd edition of Art Basel and brought in 286 galleries from 38 countries, the largest contemporary art event in US with 75,000 visitors, collectors and art lovers.&nbsp; The Art Week has the NADA fair featuring the work of Nepali ceramic artist Shushank Shrestha, who had a whole booth by the French Gallery, Galerie Lefebvre &amp; Fils. Louis Lefebvre, director of the gallery had reached out to Shrestha last year after seeing photos of his graduating show in New York. &nbsp; A whole booth for a single artist is an honour, and it showcased Shrestha’s 14 brightly coloured ceramic figures that playfully explore mythical characters from Nepali culture and blends it with the artist’s fascination for super-heroes. The figures evoke a touch of humour, childhood memories of fun and family moments.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024122508128_49675d8240747eaa76403605db7a0b6767952b0198ab565f65026e3dc9ec9870.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2024122508128_49675d8240747eaa76403605db7a0b6767952b0198ab565f65026e3dc9ec9870" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Nepali artist at Miami Art Week NT"> </figure>  Shrestha’s mastery in the techniques of ceramic making can be observed from the glazed gigantic, free-standing multi-coloured Garuda with extended wings that take centre stage. It has minute details providing an emotional connection to viewers familiar with Nepali culture.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/amalgamation-of-nepali-art">Amalgamation of Nepali art</a> The exhibition drew much attention from visitors, with many marveling at its attractive presentation and the artist’s ability to maneuver the flexible medium into imaginative characters through the coiling technique.&nbsp; The challenge of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/take-to-pottery-during-the-pandemic">ceramic making</a> is that the process from the start to the finish is delicate, the clay itself being sensitive to moisture when moulding and to heat when firing.&nbsp; Shrestha’s booth is a powerful reminder that <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/nepali-art-going-places">Nepali artists have entered the world stage</a> following the footsteps of Lain Singh Bangdel, Siddhimuni Shakya, Lok Chitrakar, Mukti Singh Thapa, Udaya Charan Shrestha, Ang Tsherin Sherpa, Hitman Gurung, Koshal Hamal, Sneha Shrestha, and others.&nbsp; Shushank Shrestha is a Kathmandu-based artist and a graduate of New York State College of Ceramics at Alfred University. He received his BFA from Kathmandu University School of Arts in 2016, and his work has been exhibited in Nepal, Pakistan, China, France, and the United States.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024122508128_ebfae6a66c43872b968e76df82ca8189b93ca28a5ffe17e5c93ae295953b4ba4.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="2024122508128_ebfae6a66c43872b968e76df82ca8189b93ca28a5ffe17e5c93ae295953b4ba4" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Nepali artist at Miami Art Week NT"> </figure>  Galerie Lefebvre &amp; Fils was founded by Henri Lefebvre in 1880 with an eclectic collection and has a legacy of exchanges with museum curators and ties with private collectors. In 2009, the gallery started to focus on contemporary ceramics, highlighting the renewing nature of the medium and its relevance to society.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/nepal-art-now-in-vienna">Nepal Art Now in Vienna</a> Another highlight of the art week was the Great Elephant Migration from India. The installation on Miami’s South Beach featured a hundred life size elephants from the <a href="https://www.unesco.org/en/mab/nilgiri">Nilgiri Biosphere Reserve</a> in South India. The individual elephants were all hand crafted by <a href="https://www.therealelephant.com/coexsistence-collective">Coexistence Collective</a>, a group of 200 local indigenous artisans and designed by <a href="https://www.shubhranayar.com/">Shubhra Nayar</a>.&nbsp; The elephants are made from an invasive weed that crowds out other native species and reduces biodiversity threatening to overtake the natural habitat of Indian elephants. The project also provides sustainable income for the local community through 20 villages with workshops that make the elephants.&nbsp; Ashish Kapoor, a London-based Indian artist, sucks viewers into a vertiginous concavity that confound our perception. &nbsp;Wangechi Mutu, a Kenyan American multi-disciplinary artist presents culturally specific and transnational presentations of contemporary realities, while offering new models for a radically changed future informed by feminism, Afrofuturism, and interspecies symbiosis.&nbsp; Swosti Rajbhandari Kayastha is curator at the Nepal Art Council.&nbsp;

Nepali artist at Miami Art Week

The Rosi River today flows serenely through the sacred 13th century town of Panauti, nestled amidst green hills east of Kathamandu. But on 28 September it was a disaster zone.&nbsp; Rainfall of biblical proportions lashed the valley for three straight days, and the angry brown water of the Rosi bulldozed through the town. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/those-who-stay">Climate breakdown </a>played a part, but the destruction was magnified by unregulated stone and sand mining upstream that fed Kathmandu’s demand for construction material. Across central Nepal, 250 were killed, 25 in Panauti alone. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/nepal-tarai-learns-from-past-floods">Encroachment of rivers</a> here in Panauti and elsewhere is not new. Gwancha Deula, 70, would know. He used to catch up to 15kg of fish in a single day from the Rosi. He proudly remembers once lifting a Bam Macha nearly a metre long. But garbage dumping and contamination with insecticides has killed the river. ‘Let alone those cold water trout, even the insects have disappeared,’ Deula tells photographer Prashant Shrestha in his new book 10 People’s Stories -- a compilation of photo stories and archival images of inspirational Panauti people. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-revenge-of-the-rivers">The revenge of the rivers</a>, Shamshad Ahmad in Kavre Shrestha’s own grandfather, Narayandas Shrestha, ran a local watermill when he was 16 and served the community. Then, the construction of a Soviet-aid hydropower plant generating electricity for Kathmandu, urban encroachment, and availability of processed food made his profession obsolete.&nbsp; ‘The stream died,’ Shrestha writes, “and traditional watermills evolved into the modern mills.’ Two chapters about <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/somewhere-else/think-locally-act-locally">local political activists</a> speak of a bygone era when idealism was still held in high esteem. One is a lifelong Kangresi and the other a Soviet-returnee Communist. ‘Physically, he limps, but his spirit has never faltered in his 78 years of life,’ writes Sunil Sainju, who wrote the text for the book, of Madhav Narayan Pasache, who started his political activism during the Rana regime and remains dedicated to the Nepali Congress. Pasache played a crucial role in an anti-government movement 70 years ago, and was jailed five times, and tourtured. Once, he was left to die after being tied up and thrown into a deep well. He managed to live and was thrown back into jail. He worked in the prision’s kitchen, but was not allowed to eat what he cooked.&nbsp; Thakur Bhakta Karmacharya has been a life-long Communist, and became a card-carrying member soon after the party was established 70 years ago. He was invited to the Soviet Union, and spent much of his time in what is now Uzbekistan. He is pictured above, arriving at Moscow airport.&nbsp; ‘I travelled to Russia via Delhi and then Kabul,’ he calls. ‘I got to see progress in Russia and attended many political meetings, but what impressed me the most was their love for books. That inspired me to start a library in Panauti…’&nbsp; A book about Paunati or its people cannot be complete without touching on its <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/ancient-panauti-s-french-connection">French connection</a>. One chapter looks into an unlikely friendship between Ananta Madhikarmi and French ethnologist Gérard Toffin in 1974.&nbsp; The two explored the valley together, and their research was published. The book generating much interest in France, leading to the French government's involvement in the restoration and urban renewal of Panauti from 1979-1989. The slim volume also has profiles of a photographer, a musician, the once-in-12-year Makar Mela and a month-long Swasthani ritual. Each chapter could be much longer, there is so much more we would like to know about the person profiled.&nbsp; 10 People’s Stories is a tribute to the spirit of the people of Panauti who have worked tirelessly to uplift their community while keeping a low national profile.&nbsp; Published by Panauti Municipality, the volume is proof that despite the doom and gloom among Nepalis about their future, the past holds lessons in resilience and determination. &nbsp;Because nothing is quite as uplifting and inspirational as growing up with local heroes one can look up to.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241222091236_8db32259e6d5e908300b18bac3306487ee3cf18b7c90b875a3bac07f144bf57b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20241222091236_8db32259e6d5e908300b18bac3306487ee3cf18b7c90b875a3bac07f144bf57b" data-rendition-name="original" width="640" height="395" loading="lazy" alt="People's stories"> </figure>  &nbsp;

Sonia Awale

Panauti People

Chandra Prasad Gurung grew up in the village of Sikles below the Annapurnas where he was steeped at a young age in the rhythms of the seasons that determined planting, harvesting, herding livestock to high pasture, and sustainable natural resource management. These were indigenous practices of the Gurung community passed down through generations: collective decision-making to take just enough from nature to allow it to recover. That was how the seed of a new conservation ethos was planted in Chandra Gurung’s mind, later to flower when he went on to complete two masters degrees and a PhD in geography from the University of Hawaii. On return to Nepal, the King Mahendra Trust for Nature Conservation included him in a task force to design a national park for the Annapurnas with Mingma Sherpa and Broughton Coburn. The team crisscrossed the entire region in 1985 for two months on foot from Sikles to Ghorepani, from Manang to Lo Manthang just as trekker numbers on the circuit were increasing.&nbsp; What the team heard from people in tea shops and verandahs was almost unanimous: we do not want a national park here. Locals had heard about Chitwan, Sagarmatha and Rara where residents were either evicted or restricted from taking part in traditional activities by national park authorities.&nbsp; So, the team methodically planned interventions to allow a balance between lifting living standards with environmental protection. What if conservation itself paid for development and improved the lives of residents?&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Conserving-conservation,151">Conserving conservation</a>, Sara Parker Their findings were presented to the government, and approved. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/municipalities-want-to-manage-annapurna">The Annapurna Conservation Area Project (ACAP) </a>was a departure from the western-inspired model of complete wilderness protection by resettling people out of their ancestral lands. The Conservation Area concept was later replicated in Manaslu, Rolwaling, Kangchenjunga and Api Saipal. Chandra was working on a book documenting details of the step-by-step approach to establishing ACAP and other protected areas. At age 56, Gurung and Mingma Sherpa along with Nepal’s top conservationists were among the 24 people killed in a helicopter crash in 2006 after a handover ceremony of the 2,000 sq km Kangchenjunga Conservation Area to local communities in Ghunsa.&nbsp; Chandra’s manuscript had been lost, but was fortuitously located at the Blue Mountains National Park in the garage of an Australian academic by Hum Gurung, a student of Chandra. Hum then worked with the Chandra Gurung Conservation Foundation to posthumously publish the book, Caring for the Annapurna, which was launched last week in Kathmandu. “It was Chandra Gurung’s dream to document the history and evolution of ACAP, which was the first program that integrated conservation and human development,” says Hum Gurung, who is now with BirdLife International. “It was a paradigm shift in how to protect nature while ensuring community development.” Indeed, the belief in the conservation academia at the time was that Nepal’s poorest were responsible for deforestation and people had to be evicted from national parks which needed to be guarded by the army. This meant indigenous communities were resettled outside nature reserves, and their traditional conservation practices were gradually lost. Chandra Gurung was the Nepal representative of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/world-lost-2-3-of-its-animals-in-50-years-wwf-report">World Wildlife Fund (WWF) </a>when he died, and this book has to be read in conjunction with A Boy from Sikles: The Life and Times of Chandra Gurung by Manjushree Thapa that reveals more of Chandra’s personal life, his efforts to appease Nepal’s royalty, and the struggles he waged as an outsider against the Kathmandu bureaucracy.&nbsp; The book Caring for the Annapurna encapsulates Chandra Gurung’s ethos that biodiversity is threatened because responsibility for its protection has been taken away from local communities who know best how to live in harmony with nature, and national parks were fenced off to be managed by civil servants in Kathmandu.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/protecting-nepal-s-parks-by-saving-buffer-zones">Protecting Nepal’s parks by saving buffer zones</a>, Teri D Allendorf ‘It became obvious to us that unless the local people’s basic needs are addressed, the conservation program, no matter how carefully designed, would not succeed,’ Chandra writes. Such thinking may sound like development cliché today, but was a revolutionary new way to look at conservation in the 1980s. Forty years later, Annapurna Conservation Area (ACA) and other reserves are being threatened by a recentralised structure despite Nepal’s 2015 Constitution having theoretically devolved decision-making to local governments. The Ministry of Forests seems to think trees are a resource to be monetised rather than protected. One of Chandra Gurung’s close conservation comrade was Hemanta Mishra, a tiger conservationist who was instrumental in getting Chitwan declared a national park in 1973. Mishra writes in the Foreword to the book, ‘Chandra was a key member of the band of brothers in our battle to save the natural and cultural heritage of our motherland. His mantra was: hard-working, networking and team working … and that was the secret of his successful model of balancing human needs with nature conservation.’ &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241222081256_699c373772ad66faaa68ecd0b98cefedadbd3417ba5d430a1955470c34cc7fd9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20241222081256_699c373772ad66faaa68ecd0b98cefedadbd3417ba5d430a1955470c34cc7fd9" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="Caring for the Annapurna book details NT"> </figure>

Kunda Dixit

Chandra’s Annapurna

‘Romans might not feel so proud of their Caesar.’ That is a sentence from Laxmi Prasad Devkota’s essay describing King Mahendra’s 1956 crowning ceremony in his book, Coronation Day in Kathmandu and Other Essays. Devkota is honoured as Nepal’s Great Poet (महाकवि) and mostly wrote essays, epics and poetry in Nepali language. His English was elaborate, effusive, and followed the grandiose style of the day. ‘I felt that if this delicate golden thread snapped, a long trail of woes and confusions would ensue,’ he wrote in fulsome praise of the monarchy. Devkota died of lung cancer three years after Mahendra’s coronation. The book has 27 other essays in English on various subjects and they range from tirades, odes, satires, to experiments of the imagination where Devkota invents a situation to make a point. His writings are characterised by an unrelenting barrage of metaphor. ‘But it is his type that have on the strength of mustard leaves, maize pulp or nettle lifted our nation into military glory!’ gushes Devkota about the miserable yet enduring lives of ‘The Wood Cutters of Nepal’. Although he was appointed Minister of Education in 1957, Devkota himself was used to hard times -- he writes about ducking creditors and how 12 pay days in a year are all he lives for. Devkota had a deep understanding of and love for Nepal, yet he is <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=5450">brutal in his criticism</a>. ‘The Electric Bulb’ was written out of deep frustration about a feeble light bulb so dim he could not work at night. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/the-genius-of-shakuntala-in-nepali">The genius of Shakuntalā in Nepali</a> These lines could be written about contemporary Nepal: ‘Dependence is a national virtue, with a verbal swagger about age-long independence. As a nation we have no vision and no attempt at self-sufficiency. We have no contribution to an advancing globe.’ He makes similar acidic observations about Indians: ‘The Benarasi is a true gentleman or political scoundrel whose god is pelf and creed. He intellectualises goondaism till it becomes a fine social art.’ Devkota understands the importance of tradition, pointing out how religious rituals bring with them discipline and exercise. Yet, in ‘The Joint Family and the Mother-in-Law,’ he describes how it is untenable for the whole clan to live under the same roof. Mother and wife fight for attention from the husband or son and play nasty tricks of jealousy on each other. In ‘A Dream in Politics’ Devkota conjures up himself dreaming that his wife has become a powerful politician. He then details how a candidate might start out with the best intentions, but would eventually see how impossibly corrupt it all was and resort to greed and unkept promises. Devkota’s literary achievements would have been great no matter what language he had been born into. The essays provide intimate details of his life as a writer, father, husband, and political adviser. They also are historical accounts of Nepal and Kathmandu at the time, and what stands out is how much Hinduism and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-s-caste-struggle">the caste system</a> seem to be a part of everyday life. In ‘Pleasure in Humiliation’ Devkota details his cash-poor student days when he had to borrow textbooks from friends because he could not afford his own. He tutored English six hours a day to get by. He struggles in science subjects, but seems to have an aptitude and memory for the English language. In one exam, after only two days of study, Devkota scores 75%, while his Rana classmates score much less. He tutors his classmates and is once summoned by a grandfather who complains about his higher scores in English. But he is vindicated when another tutor verifies his marks. There are parts of essays that are so dense and verbose that they are hard to read. In ‘Against Literature’ Devkota tries to make the point that a lot of contemporary writing had become insincere and removed from original experience. “If the beat of our heart must be rendered artificial or unnatural by the very intrusion of special attention upon its function, we may reasonably ask whether literature which is its expression as an over-conscious business may not be an abnormal expression in mechanical terms of the spiritual life of man, so often felt as the elusive quality of inner emotion harped upon with such frequency by the masters of the literary trade.’ See what I mean? All he is trying to say is that one should write how one feels, not how you think you should feel. The book was reprinted recently by FinePrint, and we do not know if the typos and mistakes in grammar were in the original. Nevertheless: a good way to be introduced to Nepal’s greatest poet via the English language.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024122206128_e6af094525e7ef7097f6493cd4215048b32357b6a3e07eb739e9a982b6600636.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2024122206128_e6af094525e7ef7097f6493cd4215048b32357b6a3e07eb739e9a982b6600636" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="Coronation Day Laxmi Prasad Devkota"></figure>

Laxmi Prasad Devkota in English

When Tsherin Sherpa was growing up, his grandmother told him tales about spirits that were attached to mountains and rivers. That bond with the spiritual resides deep within Sherpa’s psyche still, and informs his art to a large degree. After living and working painting thangkas professionally in the United States for 10 years, he realised that he wanted to use the skills he had developed after years in that rigid art form to paint in his own voice, and comment on personal, political, and social issues. “I saw exhibitions adapting traditional art techniques, and thought I could do something similar with thangka,” Sherpa told us in an interview at Takpa Gallery in Lazimpat, which is showing Spirits in Transition, his latest work. “I realized that I needed a secular form of art to communicate to a non-Buddhist, non-Nepali audience.” Sherpa returned to Nepal in 2018, and a lot had changed in the 20 years he had been away, and so had he. The changes in Nepal were both good and bad, but the artist decided to focus on the positive. He was commissioned by the Visit Nepal 2020 Campaign to make 108 larger-than-life fiberglass sculptures of the yeti mascot to be displayed in public places. But because of the pandemic, the Visit Nepal campaign was shelved. The yetis vanished, but not before stirring some controversy because some of them had religious motifs deemed to be irreverent. This was an attempt to create a buzz around Nepal's tourism by having a mascot, just like Berlin’s Buddy Bear, or the New York Cow Parade. But many Nepalis were not exactly ready for it. These days, many of Sherpa’s paintings and sculptures have the figures blowing pink bubble gum. Intrigued, we ask him about it. “It’s a small, modest object that can signify a lot,” he explains. “In my art it tells about the modern time, and also lends a certain playfulness to a rather serious art piece.” He adds, “Having said that, I love it when viewers relate to it in their own way. People see what they see: nobody’s perception of the art is valid or invalid.” Although rooted in Nepali and Tibetan devotional art, Sherpa’s work transcends cultures. It is as if the spirits travelled with the artist to the US, and returned after assimilating the new world. “In our generation, the West had a grandeur about it. We had limited media and no internet, and thought West was best,” he says. “What I found in the US was that many of my heroes, like George Lucas, were inspired by the East. I realised that I had been ignoring my own identity.” Sherpa noticed that the new generation already regarded all cultures, heritage and identity as being valuable, and none of them were superior to any other. “Look at any of my spirits,” he says. “You can see their posture. There’s a confidence, a self-pride in who they are.”  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241212091252_3a6582865573e0ccf9935b76751a3bcbff99b3ce143da9551fb29801fdd7539b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20241212091252_3a6582865573e0ccf9935b76751a3bcbff99b3ce143da9551fb29801fdd7539b" data-rendition-name="original" width="5163" height="4313" loading="lazy" alt="Tsherin Sherpa"><figcaption>Photo: RICCARDO TOSETTO(Photo: Riccardo Tosetto)© Riccardo Tosetto Photography</figcaption></figure>  For the artist, this exhibition also represents a transition as he explores what creative arena he wants to pursue next. He says, “In Buddhism, when a person dies, there is a 49 day period called ‘bardo’ before the consciousness takes rebirth. This work is also a transition, like a layover on a long flight.” All of the paintings at the Spirits in Transition exhibition have already been booked, by the same collector. Each painting takes Sherpa about a week. He starts with a small drawing of a figure, and undertakes a rigorous step-by-step process, influenced by his thangka background. “Once I find a posture I like, I keep playing around,” he says. “Painting the pattern on the spirit takes at least four layers. The first is almost translucent, and each layer adds vibrancy and makes the colours pop. This is the most time consuming part. I add the bubblegum last.” And what’s with the fiery red hair? Sherpa remembers while learning the discipline of thangka, there were very strict, rigid rules. Every line had to be exactly how it should be. But with the bubble gum and red hair, he says he wants to explore an abstract, fluid aspect. Sherpa is drawing from a technique he first did in Grade 3: dipping a thread in ink or watercolour, and dragging it across the page. “It’s what I paint last, because the red hair has to be done in one stroke. You can’t make mistakes. There is no room for a correction.” The artist uses 3D generated models to decide on the postures, starting with a skeleton, and adding features to the shape. “I am very bad at drawing straight from imagination,” he adds, laughing. Despite modern elements in Sherpa’s work, keen viewers can detect elements of thangka painting: rocks, water, curly clouds. And all figures wear snake jewelry. In the context of a thangka painting, that represents conquering your anger. Tiger skins represent overcoming fear. “After I came back to Nepal, I started combining my protector series with the spirit. The meaning is: whatever we are on the outside, we carry an appreciation for our identity on the inside,” he says. He just follows his instincts when painting and lets his imagination take over. He says, “My style has emerged out of a collision of thangka, comics, and Bollywood. I read a lot of Marvel and DC when I was young, and hand-painted billboards of Bollywood movies at the movie theatre fascinated me." Spirits in Transition by Tsherin Sherpa Takpa Gallery, Lazimpat Until 29 December 11am-7pm (Friday to Sunday) 11am-6pm (Tuesday to Thursday)

Tsherin Sherpa in body and spirit

Things are getting a little surreal in the Subcontinent. The erosion of regionalism is making South Asia an abstract concept. Which is perhaps what makes a new exhibition of expressionist art in Kathmandu so emblematic. Glimpses of the Mind: Surrealism and Abstract Expressionism in South Asian Art’ at The Kalā Salon in Thamel showcases a selection of outstanding surreal and abstract expressionist works by Nepali and Sri Lankan artists.&nbsp; “What you see is that painters from Nepal started exploring new impressionistic styles later in their careers, often after going abroad, especially to Europe,” says archivist-curator of the gallery, Chakshita Rana. Walking past paintings in the Glimpses of the Mind exhibition is like taking a series of Rorschach Tests. Stare at a painting long enough and the deep recesses of the mind stare back, the canvas morphs into hearts, trees, mountains, and wide-eyed, worried faces. The paintings are from the vast art collection of Pratima and Prithvi Pandé and the exhibition includes works by Nepali artists Jeevan Rajopadhyaya, Uttam Nepali, Sunil Sigdel, Manuj Babu Mishra, Ram KC, Kiran Manandhar, Sunita Rana, Shyam Lal Shrestha, Birendra Pratap Singh, Surendra Pradhan as well as Manoranjana Herath from Sri Lanka.&nbsp; While the paintings may not represent objective reality, they convey the murkier and more confusing parts of the universe and the mind. One painting shows a person in a yellow suit jumping over a cow with a purple mask, amidst a backdrop of a dark blue starry sky with a dark sun.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024120612124_5a1945393bb3f542153421ae45cb350d48de0735605c973ebb8fae10b1490b48.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2024120612124_5a1945393bb3f542153421ae45cb350d48de0735605c973ebb8fae10b1490b48" data-rendition-name="original" width="1300" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="South Asia in the abstract"> </figure>  This is one in the Surrealism category, an art movement that began a century ago largely out of Freud’s writings on dreams and the unconscious mind. Surrealist paintings feature real objects, often combined seemingly illogically with other bizarrely drawn objects. &nbsp; One of the most recognisable in this style is Salvador Dali’s ‘The Persistence of Memory’ with its iconic melting clocks. Indeed, one of the dreamlike pieces by Sunil Sigdel also has a clock in the background, although the primary focus is on two bald figures waist-deep in either muddy water or quicksand. One is blue with orange lips and the other is orange with blue lips, and both look quite distressed. Through its absurdity, surrealism made it okay to challenge the rigid notions regarding reality and of what art should be. Abstract Expressionism then came through in the 1940s and 50s, still featuring themes of the subconscious. But this style did away with any forms at all, and instead focused on spontaneity and emotion. “Paintings in these styles are expressive and individualistic,” explains The Kalā Salon founder Sophia L Pande. “The artist’s voice really jumps out, and they are often making a very personal or political statement.”&nbsp; Impressionistic paintings leave much more to the imagination of the viewer, although it is easier to guess what the artist has in mind in some paintings, more than others. One dark blue canvas by Uttam Nepali could be a skull, an alien or a dog. Another of Nepali’s paintings has shades of green, brown and orange that could be a tree, or an intense fire. The form is not as important here to interpret the work — more relevant is mood and choice of colour.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024120612124_4cbc05a47715e173fa5c85cef7a3a37141dda2c7494264e83b2bba9dac334b8d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2024120612124_4cbc05a47715e173fa5c85cef7a3a37141dda2c7494264e83b2bba9dac334b8d" data-rendition-name="original" width="1300" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="South Asia in the abstract"> </figure>  Kiran Manandhar’s paintings have his distinctive quick dry brushstrokes in vivid colours, and are all arranged in a row at the exhibition. Explains curator Rana: “We decided to put his paintings next to each other so that the evolution of his work stands out.”&nbsp; The paintings by Manoranjana Herath from Sri Lanka feature sharp geometric shapes, with lots of triangles and faces in green and blue — reminiscent of Picasso-esque cubism. The Kalā Salon is showing a larger exhibition of Herath’s work starting 13 December.&nbsp; “We are primarily a non-profit, and because of the depth of the collection we can regularly show works of many different Nepali artists, spanning a lot of genres and time periods,” says Pande. “Most exhibitions feature the work of only one artist, at one time in their lives. We hope to be a valuable resource and inspire new Nepali artists.” The gallery also sponsors three-month long residencies for promising artists twice a year. One male artist and one female are chosen, often self-taught or fresh out of a Bachelor's in Fine Arts. &nbsp;At the end, a show of their work is held at the Salon. Three such rounds have been held so far, and the first cohort for 2025 has already been selected.&nbsp; Says Pande, “We are committed to giving these talented young artists a start and exposure in art, and a chance to become immediately self-sustaining.” The Kalā Salon&nbsp; Chhaya Center Mall, Aloft Hotel 11am-8pm&nbsp; Till 10 December

South Asia in the abstract

At the age of five, Dorjee Karmarong fell sick and his local healer-slash-thangka painter cut him a deal: in exchange for treatment, the young patient had to promise to become a painter. The shaman may have been joking, but 38 years later, Karmarong is a successful international artist, and now has a solo exhibition at the Siddhartha Art Gallery. ‘Karmarong: Hidden Valley in the Himalayas’ is a collection of 27 paintings spread across two floors that give the viewer a comprehensive feel for life among the Karmarong community in the remote Mugu district of Karnali. Karmarong has a distinctive style featuring clean outlines, vibrant colours and detailed natural landscapes. Animals, mountains, trees, and the sun and the moon appear constantly. It is a style that took 20 years to perfect, as the painter practised teaching in monasteries of Bangladesh, India, Singapore, and most recently in Vietnam. Mugu is one of the remotest districts in Nepal, but the Karmarong community of about 3,000 people live in about a dozen small villages in the remotest northern corner of the district near the Chinese border. They speak their own dialect. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/the-present-meets-the-past">The present meets the past</a>, Pinki Sris Rana  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241004111032_46339bbefd7b9007dedde289f8c4db9980a60e19ab5a7e0c11c5f1ba4817ba68.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20241004111032_46339bbefd7b9007dedde289f8c4db9980a60e19ab5a7e0c11c5f1ba4817ba68" data-rendition-name="original" width="3600" height="2400" loading="lazy" alt="Dorjee Karmarong NT 1"></figure>  Some of the paintings show general goings-on in Karmarong, such as harvest time. ‘The Hospitality of Karmarong’ shows residents gathering to formally welcome an important guest. “In front is someone who is still lucky to have both parents,” explains the painter. ‘Magic of Milarepa’ is a closeup of a grey, cracked yak horn on the floor. There is water on the ground next to the horn, and inside is a green-skinned monk, meditating in robes. “Milarepa was travelling with one of his students in Tibet, who was starting to act a little arrogant. They were suddenly caught up in a storm, and the saint shrank himself and sheltered in the horn, humbling his disciple,” Karmarong explains. Yaks are a constant feature in the exhibition, and the painter Karmarong has given them sentient eyes, with emotions like anger, introspection, suspicion, and even wide-eyed and crazed. “I was once told to study as voraciously as a yak grazes,” says Karmarong. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/human-spiritual-existence-in-a-digital-ecosystem">Human spiritual existence in a digital ecosystem</a>, Kashish Das Shrestha  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241004111032_271aba25a6f1eb642433ef504880407a9b36fea72a85e793a6d70e12299d9274.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20241004111032_271aba25a6f1eb642433ef504880407a9b36fea72a85e793a6d70e12299d9274" data-rendition-name="original" width="2400" height="3600" loading="lazy" alt="Dorjee Karmarong NT 1"></figure>  In the middle of ‘The Dance of the Elements’ is a face that is half yellow and half black holding a cigarette around which is coiled a multi-headed serpent. “Thia represents our animal impulses,” Karmarong explains. “It is about how nature makes beautiful things. But when humans tamper with it, something usually goes wrong.” Other pieces are even more abstract. ‘Mandala Fragment’ shows geometric shapes in vibrant colours. Says Karmarong: “It may seem chaotic to a viewer, but I can step back and see something different.” Behind Karmarong’s extraordinary skill and output is a rare life lived in harmony with fate. Even his birth was auspicious: Karmarong was born in a cave to parents returning from working in Himachal Pradesh in India on the eve of Buddha Purnima and Thursday. By age seven Karmarong’s father took him to a cave to learn Tibetan. At 13, the boy was sent to a monastery in Kathmandu and after six years he decided to pursue painting and became an apprentice to master thangka artist Palden. Karmarong trained intensively under the rigid rules of thangka painting. He then met Tenzin Norbu from Dolpo, who helped develop his spiritual connection to art. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/turning-legends-into-games">Turning legends into games</a>, Vishad Raj Onta  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241004111032_3f2d5f809a4230bbee885a2832c2e6872b743343581a96d177fae87885759d76.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20241004111032_3f2d5f809a4230bbee885a2832c2e6872b743343581a96d177fae87885759d76" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1412" loading="lazy" alt="Dorjee Karmarong NT"></figure>  As Karmarong developed artistically and spiritually, he saw art as a fulfilment of his karma. “I started feeling that, in a past life, I had been a yogi who had wanted to build a monastery but couldn’t find an artist,” he says. The yogi committed to a life of dharma to be reborn as an artist. Indeed, there are records of a yogi from Karmarong region named Jimpa Therchan, who struggled with building a monastery and was also a renowned poet and singer. Karmarong also sings, and has written ‘Turquoise Mountain: A Folktale of the Karmarong.’ The titles of the paintings are evocative: ‘Yak’s Reprieve’, ‘Echoes of the Sacred Route’, ‘The Black Yak’s Grace’, or 'The Yak and His Young Keeper.' He is also a YouTuber and his channel has singing performances, rap songs and travel vlogs. Karmarong has depicted his village as a religious, harmonious Shangri-La, although it leaves the viewer a little curious about the darker realities of the place like Milarepa’s own murky past. Karmarong has perhaps consciously or unconsciously woven his own life into the paintings: stories and destinies that translate into the real world. They show travellers leaving from or returning to Karmarong the place, or going on a pilgrimage, reflecting the artist’s own artistic, spiritual and religious journey that has taken him back to his roots. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/mask">MASK</a>, Sonia Awale ‘Karmarong: Hidden Valley in the Himalayas’ Dorjee Karmarong Siddhartha Art Gallery

Karmarong in Karmarong

The Imadol neighbourhood of Kathmandu Valley was among the worst hit by last weekend’s devastating floods. The Manohara River, swollen by incessant rainfall, overflowed into the settlements along its banks. A photograph taken by French anthropologist Corneille Jest in monsoon 1972 shows the Manohara meandering across a wide plain, its banks lush with ripening paddy. Two farmers cross the field carrying a kharpan, a sturdy traditional bamboo basket carried on shoulders, that has almost vanished from the Valley today. It is a tranquil view of a once-emerald Valley and its unique civilisation that blended urban living with intense agriculture on the fertile topsoil. Gazing at these images shows us the life and times of Old Nepal. This and other photographs taken by Jest during his research in Nepal’s Dolpo and Kathmandu 60 years ago are a reminder of how much in Nepal has changed, and what remains the same. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/kathmandu-s-passage-of-time-in-photos">Kathmandu’s passage of time in photos</a>, Ashish Dhakal  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024100505108_e5eae5b7745301134e49b009d519326ea826f2e11c76b33aa63ea13734fa9d2c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2024100505108_e5eae5b7745301134e49b009d519326ea826f2e11c76b33aa63ea13734fa9d2c" data-rendition-name="original" width="2500" height="1667" loading="lazy" alt="An anthropologist's perspective of Nepal"> <figcaption>Offering a prayer flag at a pass above Tukuche in 1963.</figcaption> </figure>  Jest visited Nepal every other year since 1960, and the exhibition itself shows us the passage of time -- it is aesthetic and evocative, a lament and sometimes deeply nostalgic.&nbsp; The exhibition is organised by Mémoires de l’Himalaya, a French association that works to preserve works on the trans-Himalayan region. Jest was a prolific photographer and out of the 45,000 negatives in his collection, &nbsp;almost 100 black and white and colour prints were selected for this exhibition at the Patan Museum. “The data researchers collect rarely helps the community being studied.. So, it was Jest's idea and ours as an organisation to give back, what we can, to the local community,” says Rémi Chaix of Mémoires de l’Himalaya, who is also one of the curators. “The field notes taken by Jest can also be accessed.” Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/making-nepal-s-history-colourful">Making Nepal’s history colourful</a>, Kanak Mani Dixit  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241004091020_eb98695b6253e9dde6f051b24596bc09060834bdba1219b9cff2ac080540c63c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20241004091020_eb98695b6253e9dde6f051b24596bc09060834bdba1219b9cff2ac080540c63c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="3000" loading="lazy" alt="An Anthropologist's Early Glimpses of Nepal NT"> <figcaption>Members of the Tarap community at Dolpo's Drolma Pass during their pilgrimage to the Buddha-ri sacred mountain in 1960.Corneille Jest - Mémoires de l'Himalaya</figcaption> </figure>  Curated by Fernand Meyer, Kunsang Namgyal-Lama and Chaix, the first floor of the museum showcases photographs of Kathmandu Valley and the second floor is dedicated to Dolpo, especially Tarap Valley where Jest spent most of his time. This curatorial choice of placing the photographs of a place in a specific floor is important, allowing viewers to keep the two worlds separate. The photographs on the first floor are exclusive and published for the first time. There is also an 11 minute documentary on loop that captures the 1968 Seto Machhindranath festival. One does not just get to see this era but even hear its sounds. Photos of Dolpo on the second floor show how little the landscape and dwellings of this remote region has changed in the past decades, although with the road now reaching the district it will inevitably undergo rapid transformation. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/memories-of-an-archivist">Memories of an archivist</a>, Anita Bhetwal  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241004091020_ae632fde3aac88ac90bad7e348904446b10b793d650d7bfc4a2f7a977f6f84cc.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20241004091020_ae632fde3aac88ac90bad7e348904446b10b793d650d7bfc4a2f7a977f6f84cc" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="884" loading="lazy" alt="An Anthropologist's Early Glimpses of Nepal NT"> <figcaption>Attendees at a Buddhist ritual, Tarap, 1963.Corneille Jest - Mémoires de l'Himalaya</figcaption> </figure>  Some of the Dolpo photographs have already been published in Jest’s books like ‘Tales of The Turquoise: A Pilgrimage in Dolpo’. “Jest had a habit of clicking the same image twice. One would be in black and white and the other would be in colour,” explains Chaix who along with other two curators had to decide which would be a better fit for the exhibit. Jest’s photos of Dolpo are intimate and let the audience peek into the Himalayan lifestyle at the time. Researching about the Himalayan people and the culture while living in Tarap Valley, Jest developed a particular affinity for Dolpo, shares Guillaume Jest, one of Corneille’s sons, who was here at the inauguration of the exhibition.&nbsp; “I think that my father’s fondness for the population of Dolpo and their religion and culture comes from the fact that they build their way of life in a very harsh but breathtaking world of the high valleys of the Himalayas,” says Guillaume. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/adventures-of-a-lone-archivist">Adventures of a lone archivist</a>, Alisha Sijapati  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241004091020_6cba26cf4cd2c38db65a4b00966f58ed87d46de3e01c8927f6ac1d8d3f5cadc3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20241004091020_6cba26cf4cd2c38db65a4b00966f58ed87d46de3e01c8927f6ac1d8d3f5cadc3" data-rendition-name="original" width="2500" height="1666" loading="lazy" alt="An Anthropologist's Early Glimpses of Nepal NT"> <figcaption>Terraced maize and paddy fields during the 1972 monsoon at Imadol, which has been built over and was submerged on 28 September.Corneille Jest - Mémoires de l'Himalaya</figcaption> </figure>  Being an anthropologist, Jest’s focus is always on the people he encounters and the landscape or architecture being props. This is a rich visual documentation of what people wore, what they ate, what the houses looked like, their daily work in the fields, the harvest process, cultural rituals and celebrations. “Corneille Jest’s photographs give us a rare insight into the everyday life, culture, and landscapes of Nepal during a pivotal period in the country’s history, just after its opening to the rest of the world. They reveal the depth and diversity of Nepali culture,” says Virginie Corteval, French Ambassador to Nepal, who opened the exhibition last week. She adds: “These represent a testimony of the important work by pioneer French researchers such as Corneille Jest or Sylvain Lévi, in studying the diversity of the Nepali civilisation.” &nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/an-archive-of-nepali-heritage">An archive of Nepali heritage</a>, Ashish Dhakal <h2>Lalita Niwas 60 years ago</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241004091020_72859aaf3e5f323bfce71e7adb8ba84fe1016e7e7323b4b3458570be22572146.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20241004091020_72859aaf3e5f323bfce71e7adb8ba84fe1016e7e7323b4b3458570be22572146" data-rendition-name="original" width="2500" height="1667" loading="lazy" alt="An Anthropologist's Early Glimpses of Nepal NT"> </figure>  The Lalita Niwas Land grab scandal is making headlines today, and has implicated the high and mighty of the land. But few know what the original palace of Subarna Shumsher Rana looked like. Corneille Jest’s aerial photograph in 1963 of the neoclassical palace gives us an idea of the grandeur and size of the complex that spread over a 7 hectare plot in Baluwatar. After the property was nationalised during the Panchayat, it has been fragmented, bought and sold numerous times. The scandal has put 18 of the 310 individuals charged behind bars. The building now houses the Nepal Rastra Bank.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=19789#.YX-e4S8w3u0">The first photographs of us</a>, Kanak Mani Dixit An Anthropologist’s Early Glimpses of Nepal 10AM-6PM Till 18 October Patan Museum

Pinki Sris Rana

The present meets the past

One smoggy winter morning in February 2019, Ekta regretted coming to her sculpture class. It was the first day of her period, and the 19-year-old wished she was home, curled up in bed with a hot water bag to soothe her cramps.
Her class was at Kalapremi Ceramic Studio, a dark room on the ground floor of a house in Maharajganj, and Ekta’s teacher was the artist Gopal Das Shrestha ‘Kalapremi’, a noted sculptor.
Two other students were already there, using all their muscle strength to knead the sculpting clay. Ekta, now 24, recalls how Kalapremi asked her if she was feeling all right. She avoided him, as she did not want everyone to know she was menstruating.
Kalapremi repeatedly asked Ekta what was wrong. She finally muttered that she was having her period, after which he grabbed her hand and led her to a partitioned corner of the studio and sat her on a chair. Before she could stop him, he slid his hand under her dress, and started massaging her abdomen.
“I was horrified,” Ekta recalls. “I told him to stop, but he didn’t listen, asking me not to be shy, saying he knew how to relieve my pain. He stopped only after I protested furiously.”&nbsp;
The art tutor then said, “You’re like my daughter. I’m doing it out of love to make you feel better, but you’re so stubborn.”&nbsp;
“Instead of saying sorry he acted like I was the one having crazy thoughts,” remembers Ekta, adding that from April 2016 to August 2020 beginning the time she was 16, the artist sexually abused and harassed her on several occasions. &nbsp;
Now, Ekta and the artist’s other former students are finally sharing their experiences and some are pressing legal charges against him, hoping that others do not have to endure what they did.&nbsp;
Award-winning artist and teacher Gopal Das Shrestha ‘Kalapremi’ (the name means ‘Art Lover’) is known for his ceramic art, sculpture, and contemporary pottery. He was <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/the-house-of-kalapremi">profiled in Nepali Times after a collaborative exhibition</a>, ‘Where the Wild Things Are’ at the Siddhartha Art Gallery three years ago.&nbsp;
His pieces, titled Gaalis, featured sculpted female figures with the heads of dogs, sheep, and donkeys (pictured) to depict derogatory terms for women. Some critics said the collection was a satire on feminists.
Kalapremi started his artistic and teaching career in 1983 and over the years taught at Bhanubhakta School, Kathmandu University School of Arts, Lalitkala Campus and at his private Kalapremi Ceramic Studio. He has also lectured at Jeonju University in South Korea and recently at Tabor Academy in the United States.
Seven of Kalapremi’s former students were interviewed for this story. Five female students said he touched them inappropriately in his studio or at Kathmandu University. Two male students said they witnessed him abuse and harass the women. In all cases, the students struggled to recognise the abuse when it occurred, and the lack of reporting systems left them to cope on their own for years.&nbsp;
Earlier this year, students shared a social media post hinting at Kalapremi’s history of abusive behaviour following which more students of the artist reached out sharing similar experiences. Some students spoke of abuse that happened as long as 20 years ago.
Kalapremi, 60, has denied the allegations. He told Nepali Times: “Some years ago, there was a movement encouraging people to hug and kiss. I used to do it purely out of friendship and love. But after seeing posts on social media last year calling out my behaviour, I realised my actions may have hurt some people. I understand now that I should have been more mindful.”
He added: “I am also an auxiliary health worker, so I know the exact points to massage to relieve menstrual pain. It’s not just menstruation, I take anyone who is ill to the hospital.”
Sexual abuse is much more rampant than reported given how difficult it is to prove it in court. The law defines sexual abuse as occuring when someone touches another’s private parts, coerces them into touching theirs, uses vulgar language, shows degrading images, or behaves indecently towards them without consent.&nbsp;
Ekta and her fellow students are consulting lawyer Suneeta Regmi Pokhrel, who says they know that even if the court decides in their favour, it is difficult to survive after speaking up, and influential men defend themselves saying they are being framed.&nbsp;
“They are in a lot of pain and weep when recalling how he abused them,” Regmi Pokhrel told us. “They are angry and have filed a case against him, but they are also terrified. They know he is a powerful man and they have seen how our society treats women who speak up against abusers. Unless people speak up, perpetrators will be emboldened.”
Art and academia in Nepal simply reflect the power imbalances in society where people with intersecting identities experience worse forms of abuse. Theatre actors Raj Kumar Pudasaini, Rajan Khatiwada, and Sunil Pokhrel were called out during the #MeToo movement in the Nepali theatre scene in 2019. Even after the allegations Pokhrel went on to receive national awards, while others continued to work without repercussions.
“If you speak up against abusers, you gradually get sidelined from projects,” explained a theatre artist who wished anonymity fearing professional setbacks. “The theatre scene in Nepal is quite small, you just have to make peace with the perpetrators and work with them if you want to sustain yourself.”&nbsp;
In academia there is a history of faculty members sexually harassing students and getting away with it. After Tribhuvan University (TU) lecturer Krishna Bhattachan was accused of harassing women students, the university said it would follow Nepal’s sexual harassment law and set up a reporting mechanism. But nothing happened to the professor, who had already retired. Instead, he counter-accused the students of 'attacking the indigenous people’s movement with baseless allegations' as <a href="https://kathmandupost.com/letters/2019/01/29/bhattachan-responds">he told the Kathmandu Post in 2019</a>. He continues to be featured as a prominent speaker including at TU.
Other faculty members previously accused of sexual harassment include Jagadish Murti Koirala from TU, Bishnu Prasad Acharya from Ratna Rajya Campus, and Bodha Raj Tripathee from Lalitpur Madhyamik Vidhyalaya. A woman staff member from TU also filed a sexual abuse complaint against Dambar Chemjong from TU.
Prominent figures like <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-rise-and-fall-of-nims-purja">mountaineer Nims Purja</a> have been <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2024/05/31/sports/mountaineering-sexual-harassment-abuse-nims-purja.html">accused of sexual assault</a>, and cricketer Sandeep Lamichhane, actor <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/celebrity-rape-case-spotlights-nepal-laws">Paul Shah</a>, and former speaker of Parliament <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/mahara-arrested">Krishna Bahadur Mahara</a> have been accused of rape, but society-at-large has let off the alleged perpetrators amdist a larger debate about justice for survivors and punishment of perpetrators.&nbsp;
‘Gaushala-26’ is the court name given to the 18-year-old who accused Sandeep Lamichhane, former captain of Nepal’s national cricket team and skipper of Biratnagar Kings in the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/here-comes-the-nepal-premier-league">ongoing Nepal Premier League</a>, of rape. She left the country citing society questioning her character affecting her mental health while Lamichhane got an outpouring of support. In May, the Patan High Court overturned a prior verdict that found Lamichhane guilty of rape and had sentenced him to eight years in prison. During the 23-month legal battle to pursue justice, Gaushala-26 faced threats of gang rape and acid attacks.&nbsp;
Exhausted by the struggle, Gaushala-26 sought to “move to a new world” where she could live free without hiding her identity.
Actress Samragyee Rajya Laxmi Shah in an Instagram video now deleted detailed the harassment she faced from a filmmaker during a movie shoot. She did not name any name but veteran actor Bhuwan KC filed a defamation case against Rana, but the court ruled that the charge lacked sufficient evidence.&nbsp;
Former Kathmandu mayor <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/theytoo">Keshav Sthapit also mocked the #MeToo movement</a>, calling accusations against him by journalists Rashmila Prajapati and Ujjwala Maharjan “a rape of men’s rights”.
Serial Abuse
Back at the Kalapremi Ceramics studio, another former student, 24-year-old Rajiv, says he felt the need to speak out after seeing his female classmates being abused.&nbsp;
“He frequently kissed them on their cheeks,” he told Nepali Times. “Whenever they walked into the studio he flailed his arms like a child asking for a hug. They awkwardly hugged him from the side, but he pulled them closer, held their chin, and kissed their cheeks.”&nbsp;
Rajiv says he also saw Kalapremi pull the women’s bra straps, touch their breasts, and slap their buttocks. The young students would freeze, not knowing how to react, and if they protested, he would say it was “normal in art”. Rajiv, 19 at the time like his classmates, remembers thinking perhaps the well-respected artist was right after all.
Another student, Luna, who took lessons at Kalapremi’s studio from 2020 to 2022 did try to confront the tutor after he made an obscene proposal to her. She recalls: “One day when the other students had left the studio and it was just the two of us, he told me that God had given him special artistic talent and he could transfer those powers to me. But to do that both of us will have to be naked, inside a dark room, and have sex.”
Luna, who was 18 then, was livid and told him she did not want any of his powers, but she says he laughed at her as if he was joking. She did not tell her family about the incident because she thought no one would believe her.&nbsp;
“They were all in awe of this famous artist and felt I should be grateful that to be learning sculpting from him,” she says. “I was scared to be alone with him in case he talked about sex again. My coping mechanism was to be rude so he wouldn’t try to come close to me.”
Seeing how some classmates were standing up to Kalapremi, Ekta too tried to push back against his advances, but she said he found ways to coerce her. Since Ekta, Rajiv, and Luna could not afford Kalapremi’s Rs30,000 monthly fee for lessons, he had offered them all a stipend to assist him in the studio.
“He had spondylosis and took me to his therapy sessions to learn massage techniques, then he often made me and other students massage him,” says Ekta. Whenever she refused, he would feign pain to make her feel sorry for him. “He would insist that I put my hands under his shirt so that I could massage him better,” she adds.
The art tutor often tried to “seduce sympathy” from Ekta by sharing how he had never been loved as a child and was “sexually frustrated” as an adult.&nbsp;
“At 7PM, he would pour himself Signature whiskey and immediately go off again about how he was sex-starved. I didn’t know how to respond. It took me time to realise alcohol was just an excuse to talk about sex,” Ekta says.
If convicted, Kalapremi could face financial penalty and/or a prison sentence of up to three years according to Section 224 of National Penal (Code) Act 2017.&nbsp;
Data suggests that victims of child sexual abuse on average take nearly 24 years to tell someone about their trauma, and some may never disclose it at all.&nbsp;
“In our culture, children are rarely taught about boundaries. They often react, show anger when adults pinch their cheeks. But adults insist they did it out of love, and force the children to accept it,” says Sita Lama, a psychotherapist at Manka Kura. “And even when someone touches them inappropriately they struggle to identify and verbalise it.”
When perpetrators claim to be “acting out of love”, Lama says survivors are likely to perceive it as something safe, rather than recognising it as abuse.&nbsp;
“It may take years for them to realise they were abused,” she explains. "And even when they become aware, the power imbalance with the abuser and the associated shame often prevents survivors from speaking up."
Other former students from the School of Art at Kathmandu University have also come forward years later, saying Kalapremi sexually abused them. As young adults, they felt his behaviour was off but were uncertain if it was inappropriate, illegal, or they did not know how to respond. After having understood that it was indeed abuse, they say they are speaking out now to protect others.&nbsp;
Amina Singh, a visiting faculty member at Kathmandu University, says there is no clause against sexual abuse in contracts of teachers, and there is no formal grievance handling mechanism for the students.&nbsp;
“So the only way students can to deal with sexual abuse is approach someone they trust,” she says.
Eight other former art students of Lalit Kala Campus and Srijana College of Fine Arts of Tribhuvan University and other private art studios in Kathmandu say they were also sexually abused by their art teachers. Three faculty members interviewed from these institutions said they saw the abuse, but felt it was futile to report it given how powerful the teachers were.
In the absence of a formal system, some longtime women artists warned each other about “problematic” artists. They shared &nbsp;a “heads-up” to be more cautious when collaborating with them, and avoided responding to their calls and texts after work hours.
To ensure art institutions are safe for all, galleries, museums, artist studios, and smaller art spaces need to develop policies on sexual harassment. This would include a code of conduct or studio policies that hold the leadership accountable and outline the principles of professional ethics.&nbsp;
Students and employees should inquire about accountability mechanisms for raising concerns, both formally and informally, advocates say.
Three years after Ekta left the ceramics studio, she learnt that Kalapremi had harassed many other women. Still trying to get a footing in the art industry, she attended a workshop in Kathmandu where women artists discussed ways to stay safe in the art sector.&nbsp;
Since it was a close-knit group Ekta opened up about how she felt violated and realised she was not alone, he had been abusing underprivileged students for years, and this was common knowledge among artists in Nepal.
Ekta says that even after she quit, Kalapremi continued sending her text messages like ‘I am thinking of you’, ‘Why have you stopped speaking with me’, or ‘I am waiting for your call’.&nbsp;
But what really forced her to act was when Ekta found out that he was sending similar texts to her younger sister.&nbsp;
“I’ve had enough,” she told us. “He abused me all these years but I won’t let him abuse my sister.” &nbsp;
Ekta, Rajiv and Luna are not the real names of the students.&nbsp;

‘Art Lover’ accused of sexual abuse

It was 8:15 in the evening of 25 March 1968 when everyone in the village of Batulechaur near Pokhara heard a deafening sound like thunder as a bright flashing object hurtled down to land in a field.&nbsp; That field belonged to Kul Timilsina, and the next morning he retrieved a sheet of metal about 2m by 1m and carried it home with the help of a few others, thinking it would be useful for his buffalo shed.&nbsp; Before he died at age 83 three years ago, Timilsina had told photo archivist Sunil Ulak that the black metal sheet was not rectangular and had rounded corners. There are a few witnesses still alive who have a clear recollection of the object that fell from the sky that night.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024120707128_75cc85aac56b9cc4a77366471f058d7b3eb6868776811b0923845c2d0a61f014.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2024120707128_75cc85aac56b9cc4a77366471f058d7b3eb6868776811b0923845c2d0a61f014" data-rendition-name="original" width="1170" height="601" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara"> <figcaption>The field in Batulechaur belonging to Kul Timilsina where fragments of a flying object fell from the sky in 1968.</figcaption> </figure>  One of them is Timilsina’s wife Gyanu, who was 22 at the time. She had been at home, and remembers hearing the big bang and the sky becoming very bright. “We saw the thing in the field in the morning,” she told us. “It looked like a lid, a covering of some sort. The way it was stuck in the ground, it must have fallen from the sky. We thought we could use it to dry clothes on, and took it home.”&nbsp; Another witness is Kul Narayan Paudel. “I was only eight then. We ran to the field to see what had fallen. It was a four-sided metal sheet. The elders took it away, and I don't know what happened to it.” &nbsp; Ram Bahadur Baniya, a teacher at the local school, says he had heard the sheet had been brought to the school, and later handed over to the Zonal Commissioner at the time, Nanda Prasad Malla. “But that is all hearsay,” he says.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024120707128_0bf207a12063fb8155b3c8d9a00a94887b126380c9e0627527c84cf5e1101f54.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2024120707128_0bf207a12063fb8155b3c8d9a00a94887b126380c9e0627527c84cf5e1101f54" data-rendition-name="original" width="1170" height="610" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara"> <figcaption>Gyanu Timilsina, wife of Kul Timilsina.</figcaption> </figure>  There are two versions of what happened to Kul Timilsina’s metal sheet. One is that an American Peace Corp Volunteer teaching at the nearby Bindyabasini School took it, and another is that it was handed over to the government. Recently declassified Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) and US State Department documents from the time say that the US Embassy in Kathmandu tracked down the object two years later and had it shipped back to the US. A telegram from the Department of State and Department of Defense tagged as ‘MOON DUST / Space Fragments’ dated 1 March 1972 stated: ‘1. Restored space fragment will be on board Embassy support flight 115 arriving Kathmandu on or about March 10. Fragment is packed in shipping crate (cargo no. 72-33365) marked in care of DAO.&nbsp; 2. State and Defense representatives examined fragments prior to shipment finding restoration acceptable.’  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241207071212_929d903ee06d41baa4f6040e981cd7c7d7bd75cc9c37c9b617d307fc8538d2df.png" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20241207071212_929d903ee06d41baa4f6040e981cd7c7d7bd75cc9c37c9b617d307fc8538d2df" data-rendition-name="original" width="856" height="568" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara"> <figcaption>Declassified CIA documents about the investigation into the object sighted in Pokhara. </figcaption> </figure>  The documents show that the US government, military and intelligence agencies investigated this incident thoroughly when it occurred, and have continued to revisit it ever since, as recently as five years ago. What is even more intriguing is that the object that fell in Pokhara was not the only unidentified space object that fell to earth that year. There were similar sightings of objects falling from the sky in Ladakh, Sikkim and Bhutan between 19 February and 25 March 1968.&nbsp; These mysteries were the subject of a CIA investigation in 1968 titled ‘<a href="https://www.cia.gov/readingroom/docs/CIA-RDP81R00560R000100070007-8.pdf">Sighting of Unidentified Flying Objects in Ladakh, Nepal, Sikkim and Bhutan</a>’, and the report is part of the recent online declassification of 800,000 top-secret documents from the period.&nbsp; &nbsp;Although unidentified flying objects (UFOs) have a connotation now of being alien craft, it could be pieces of satellite, missile, rocket or even aircraft. The CIA report documents six sightings in 1968 and quotes local sources as describing all of them having similar characteristics: bright blue or red streaks in the sky accompanied by loud sounds like lightning and thunder and objects falling to the ground. Aside from the metallic object that was found in Batlechaur, there were other items also found nearby in Tallakot, Tureypasal, Armalakot and Maidan. Whatever the object was, it seems to have disintegrated even before it hit the ground.&nbsp; The CIA report records the first sighting on 19 February 1968 in various parts of Sikkim and Olangchung Gola and Ghunsa in eastern Nepal. The light was said to be ‘long and thin’ and giving out ‘green and red light’. &nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241207071212_c3c825027d966a2aedc846970390eebe063957503c7eacc8e01e0517843f9bbb.png" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20241207071212_c3c825027d966a2aedc846970390eebe063957503c7eacc8e01e0517843f9bbb" data-rendition-name="original" width="892" height="596" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara "> </figure>  Two days later on 21 February, a soundless blue object was seen traveling fast across the sky above Thimphu in Bhutan. Then on 4 March there were multiple daytime sightings or white streaks in the sky at Chang La Pass, Fukche and Koyul in Ladakh. There were more sightings in Ladakh on the very day fragments fell near Pokhara on 25 March 1968.&nbsp; After the sightings in Pokhara, rumours started flying in Kathmandu that these were aliens trying to land on Earth, it could be Russian or Chinese spy planes or satellites, and some even say it as a sign from heaven that the end of the world was near. This was at the height of the Cold War. The Russians and Americans were testing their thermonuclear devices as well as intercontinental ballistic missile delivery systems. The Washington-Beijing rapprochement had not yet happened, and China was making quick progress testing atomic bombs. Within two years after its first atomic test, in 1966 China exploded its first hydrogen bomb at the Lop Nur site in Xinjiang, 3,000km to the north from Nepal. After neary six decades, what is still intriguing is that all the sightings within a few months of each other in 1968 were along the Himalayan arc bordering Tibet: from Bhutan, Sikkim Nepal, to Ladakh. The US military intelligence seems to have concluded that this was not a coincidence and there were frequent research trips to the site in Pokhara by American officials in the months after the incident. With the help of the Royal Nepal Army, the region north of Pokhara was thoroughly searched.&nbsp; A confidential memo dated 25 June 1968 by Jerry C Trippy to a ‘Mr Farley’ mentions that the US Air Force’s Foreign Technology Division had decided that the debris could be important because it may be related to a Chinese missile test or a Soviet ‘Vehicle Venik’ rocket.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241207071216_feb5425692dc36b20187de4e4fcc2ce9fd12b6d9e1b8724398e50bcdbf9032fe.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20241207071216_feb5425692dc36b20187de4e4fcc2ce9fd12b6d9e1b8724398e50bcdbf9032fe" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara"> </figure>  On 28 August 1968 the US Embassy in Kathmandu sent a letter to Washington DC saying that the object could be of Soviet origin, possibly from when the rocket carrying the ‘Kosmos 208’ satellite re-entered the atmosphere. But why were the fragments falling to earth several weeks apart, and in the same region? No one knows where the metal sheet that Kul Timilsina recovered is now. It was definitely packed in a crate and taken to the US, and although it is rumoured that it was returned that is not very likely. Archivist Sunil Ulak heard from the Timilsina family that CIA officials had returned to the site five years ago. &nbsp; Interest in UFOs peaked in the US in the 1950s, with the Cold War space race and tests of atomic weapons and delivery rockets. CIA and scientists were being sent to investigate sightings, both publicly and privately. Could the Pokhara fragments as well as the sightings in Ladakh and Bhutan actually be alien craft falling to earth? The renewal in interest in space travel in large part due to Elon Musk’s SpaceX, UFOs and sightings are again subjects of public interest.&nbsp; Even 57 years later, even if there was definitive proof about whether the Batlechaur fragment was from a Chinese missile or a soviet rocket, it has not been made public in documents declassified so far. We may never know.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241207071216_b6938795f40731e7657fd6dcbb3cf460a326186a15eb11d4f832f602201ff598.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20241207071216_b6938795f40731e7657fd6dcbb3cf460a326186a15eb11d4f832f602201ff598" data-rendition-name="original" width="642" height="320" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara"> </figure>  Sunil Ulak speculates if the debris actually came from an American aircraft, perhaps on an intel mission upon China. “Which could explain why they were so thorough in collecting the fragments in Pokhara,” he says. But that still does not explain the multiple sightings weeks apart in 1968.&nbsp; Indeed, US military aircraft were at that time flying frequent night-time missions from air force bases in India to supply weapons to Khampa guerrilla camps in Nepal located north of Pokhara in Mustang. It could very well be that the Chinese shot down one such aircraft. The other sightings could have been contrails of US spy planes, or Chinese anti-aircraft missiles.&nbsp; There were quite a few developments regarding UFOs in 2024. In a US congressional hearing in July, former intelligence officer David Grusch claimed that the government had long been involved in a program to investigate and retrieve non-human craft crashes, and then try to reverse engineer them. However Grusch did not show any evidence.&nbsp; The UAP Disclosure Act of 2024 was signed into law by Joe Biden in December 2023. It plans to oversee the public disclosure of UFO information. However, there is a clause in it that prevents disclosure if it would cause threats to military defense, intelligence operations or foreign relations.&nbsp; It is unlikely that the declassified documents about sightings in the Himalayan will cause any real surprise about definite evidence of alien life even if it was found. It seems humanity will continue, at least for now, to wonder about curious lights in the sky and whether there is anybody out there.&nbsp;

UFO over Pokhara

Four international names in architecture, Shigeru Ban, Rem Koolhaas, Tadao Ando and Louis Isadore Kahn, all left their mark in Nepal. But despite their best intentions, the ambitious designs fizzled out. Ban, Koolhaas and Ando won Pritzkers, the best known international award for architecture, and Kahn could have won it had the prize been given in his lifetime. But their designs fell short of transforming Nepali architecture and did not help inspire local architects.&nbsp; Why were these four ‘starchitects’ unable to pull off their Nepal projects and enrich the country with exemplary contemporary designs? The failure, especially the violation of Kahn’s design, also raises larger questions about how much contemporary architecture is valued in Nepal.&nbsp; Whereas Sri Lanka had Geoffrey Bawa and Bangladesh had Mazharul Islam, the pioneers of contemporary architecture in Nepal have had far less public appreciation. One wonders if Nepali architecture only refers to the monuments and heritage of the past. Nepal does have examples of outstanding modern architecture such as the &nbsp;पाङ्रे घर ‘Wheel House’ and खुट्टे घर &nbsp;‘House on Legs’ by Shankar Nath Rimal in the 1960s. These are the best examples of how some Nepali designers successfully tailored modern architecture to the Nepali context.&nbsp; Ten years ago, Nepal had three architecture magazines, SPACES, praXis and Business Architecture, but none of these survived. This newspaper has prominently covered contemporary architecture, and the built environment, but these are exceptions in Nepal’s media. There have been a few encouraging signs. The 2024 exhibition Modern Encounters in Architecture in Kathmandu Valley (1945-1985) at the Taragaon Museum had many visitors and its accompanying book is a seminal document.&nbsp; In 2023, the Mountain Architecture Dialogue (MAD) that focused on examples of good-practice sustainable contemporary architecture for the mountainous terrains of Nepal was a packed event with over 300 young architects, engineers, environmentalists and architecture students. <h2>Shigeru Ban</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024122003128_8bb8dde080c5698c2585966bef27ce4c08e4ee488d3432b2caac98b9de762dfe.png" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2024122003128_8bb8dde080c5698c2585966bef27ce4c08e4ee488d3432b2caac98b9de762dfe" data-rendition-name="original" width="990" height="1074" loading="lazy" alt="Forgotten international starchitects in Nepal NT"> </figure>  Shigeru Ban had already built a name for himself in post-disaster construction when he came to Nepal following the 2015 earthquakes in which 500,000 people lost their homes. The basic design and its 3D-rendered images were reviewed in upbeat articles on DOMUS, Architectural Review, Dezeen, and Arch Daily.&nbsp; But his signature cardboard tubes could not handle the monsoon and the roof structure had to be re-designed with timber. Only two shelters were completed in Sindupalchok, and only one of them still stands at the Hyatt Regency grounds today, as Ban’s souvenir to Nepal.&nbsp; <h2>Rem Koolhaas</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024122003128_58afec9b57accfa38327af0936648c6eb2f2e11ff18f1af8ca27383dc57dc222.png" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2024122003128_58afec9b57accfa38327af0936648c6eb2f2e11ff18f1af8ca27383dc57dc222" data-rendition-name="original" width="750" height="722" loading="lazy" alt="Forgotten international starchitects in Nepal NT"> </figure>  The designs of Dutch architect Rem Koolhaas have a specific signature: bold shapes and an intriguing architectural typology that challenges standard building blocks. Some designs even seem to defy gravity, like the CCTV headquarters in Beijing: an angular, continuous geometry of glass and steel.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241220031216_a18dc8a8d6b97bc6fa9d590036cf374f9dc3709c699fe5c5787304bbd05cb17d.png" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20241220031216_a18dc8a8d6b97bc6fa9d590036cf374f9dc3709c699fe5c5787304bbd05cb17d" data-rendition-name="original" width="1812" height="1168" loading="lazy" alt="Forgotten international starchitects in Nepal"> <figcaption>Rem Koolhaas' design for Ullen's School in Khumaltar.</figcaption> </figure>  Koolhaas was commissioned by Belgian billionaire Guy Ullens to design a new building for Ullens School in Khumaltar. The most prominent feature is its vertical glass block staircase. Some interior spaces have lowered windowsills, which provide ample views and daylight. But the school building has gone unremarked in Nepal. <h2>Tadao Ando</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241220031212_cc16bd6feb8be07a7198285b847a45d2126dc3a479e0cc7370331861fc544675.png" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20241220031212_cc16bd6feb8be07a7198285b847a45d2126dc3a479e0cc7370331861fc544675" data-rendition-name="original" width="626" height="628" loading="lazy" alt="Forgotten international starchitects in Nepal"> </figure>  Doctors providing aid to victims of the Great Hanshin earthquake in 1995 in Japan requested Tadao Ando, who had donated his Pritzker money to the victims, to also make a design for a hospital in Butwal.&nbsp; Ando’s contribution would be pro-bono and the construction was funded by the Hanshin Earthquake victims and by the popular Japanese newspaper Mainichi, as a tribute to Nepali doctors. The first block that Ando designed for the Siddhartha Children and Women’s Hospital (SCWH) was the out-patient department. He quickly realised that he would not be able to pull off structures with his typical style of smooth-finished, high-quality concrete.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241220031216_73ec0950d52320277ccc81d4a66fa6aa6acb38141e7b7633683e4cf8179dc579.png" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20241220031216_73ec0950d52320277ccc81d4a66fa6aa6acb38141e7b7633683e4cf8179dc579" data-rendition-name="original" width="1594" height="958" loading="lazy" alt="Forgotten international starchitects in Nepal"> <figcaption>Tadao Ando's Siddhartha Children and Women Hospital in Butwal.</figcaption> </figure>  Ando wrote in the online architectural catalog Architectuul, that the two main problems with the project were costs and the availability of local technology. ‘It became a facility that has a slightly different expression from the buildings I have completed so far,’ he wrote. He designed a colonnade for the west façade that would provide shelter from harsh sunlight, and the exposed brick walls were locally manufactured bricks.&nbsp; The hospital is characterised by modernist cuboidal massing, but the outer brick façades now appear unintentionally badly weathered by monsoons. The interiors lack both sufficient natural light and natural ventilation. <h2>Louis I Kahn</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024122003128_612e199d62fb3e72b6b8f6a936b0fa0451d8c0aa3d831c071320bf423ee3d67f.png" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="2024122003128_612e199d62fb3e72b6b8f6a936b0fa0451d8c0aa3d831c071320bf423ee3d67f" data-rendition-name="original" width="694" height="926" loading="lazy" alt="Forgotten international starchitects in Nepal NT"> </figure>  American architect Louis I Kahn had experience of projects in South Asia, and several were under construction when he died suddenly in 1974. Amongst these were the National Assembly complex in Dhaka, the Indian Institute of Management in Ahmedabad and the Family Planning and Maternal Child Welfare Centre in Kathmandu.&nbsp; Kahn had started the USAID funded project in Nepal by developing a master plan for the government institutional zone in Kathmandu, which included a building for the Health Ministry. The building’s façade in exposed brick has deeply recessed vertical windows for shading.&nbsp; The balancing of accentuated horizontal lines in the brickwork with the verticality of the larger composition is the work of a master. The brick walls rise up into punctured parapet walls at the roof level. These square apertures ‘frame the sky’.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241220031216_69c2e4972dbe38773e0a3a3f1129485c9c87033ee84cd454e24ae0dc772d05cf.png" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20241220031216_69c2e4972dbe38773e0a3a3f1129485c9c87033ee84cd454e24ae0dc772d05cf" data-rendition-name="original" width="1924" height="1242" loading="lazy" alt="Forgotten international starchitects in Nepal"> <figcaption>Louis Kahn's plan for the Ministry of Health.</figcaption> </figure>  When Kahn died, only the eastern half of the building was finished. The Western part was never built and Nepal’s bureaucrats decided that without paint, the exposed brick façade was not finished. Then in 1995, citing roof leakage and a space crunch, the Health Ministry added a floor.&nbsp; The frames-to-the-sky in the roof parapet were converted into windows and topped off with a sloping roof of corrugated steel sheets, whose only virtue was that it was cost-effective.&nbsp; Kahn’s orthogonal composition, which clean horizontal and vertical lines, was desecrated despite a public outcry and legal challenges from architects and cultural organisations. A version of this article was first published in HIMAL Southasian. Illustrations by Varun S Bapu.

Forgotten international starchitects in Nepal

If you were raised in Nepal, you must have picked up its unique set of vocabulary: आन्दोलन, चक्का जाम, बन्द, राँके जुलुस, आफ्नो मान्छे, हाम्रो दल, कर्फु and many more words connoting political protest.
We became familiar with the acrid smell of burning tyres, and eyes smarting from tear gas. And yet, everyone speaks of another revolution in the making. Not by desire, but by suffocation.
We heard speeches about नयाँ नेपाल, but the New Nepal never arrived. The governance system changed, but it did not reflect on people’s lives — except for those close to centres of power. The state is still unreachable and is not bothered about <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/matter-of-life-and-debt">victims of loan sharks</a>, cooperative scams and other injustices.
Politicians continue to speak in sound bites, but fail to deliver. They have mastered the game of pointing fingers towards an external enemy and convincing people that they are never at fault. The political narrative is so disconnected from the actual analysis of the problem that suffocation doesn’t go away after every revolution.
No genuine effort has been made to deliver at all, which is why there is a palpable sense of disillusionment in the air forcing us to seek another revolution, even if Nepal may not be able to afford it.
How has the current system successfully held power, even if the public is deeply frustrated? How is it that for three decades we continue to be led by the same faces, who have time and again, proved to us that they may be great politicians but not national leaders?
<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/improving-internet-governance-in-nepal">My experience at the epicentre of politics</a> has led me to identify three cultures that have enabled political parties to keep a tight hold on power: acceptance, silence and dependency.
We accept things the way they are. We use fatalistic phrases like “नेपालमा यस्तै हो” or “नेपालको कानुन दैब जानुन”. While this resilience enables us to rise back up from devastating calamities, it is also a reason for our compliance with the status quo.
Despite so many ‘revolutions’ that have led to significant reforms, these phrases keep getting reinforced, to the point that the upcoming generations have made it their lingo.&nbsp;
This acceptance is not a symbol of law-abiding citizens, but citizens living in fear of those in power, unable to ask the whys and why-nots.
Innovation suffocates in this culture of acceptance of the status quo. This is manifested in remarks like “but we don’t have any laws for this,” or “we don’t have the capacity to implement this”. An innovator or entrepreneur therefore has to spend that energy to become a political lobbyist, often educating and convincing the bureaucracy.&nbsp;
Remember when locally assembled <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/designed-and-made-in-nepal">Yatri motorbikes</a>, despite having willing customers, had to suffer to secure license numbers because of a lack of regulations? Instead of creating new laws, the government kept chanting the “We will promote Nepal-made goods” mantra, leaving entrepreneurs in a labyrinth of bureaucracy. The weight of acceptance of the law lies heavily on innovators. Fatalism is a tactic used by those in power to generate mass fear in society.
When we accept, we become silent. This is a pervasive phenomenon. We are trained to keep quiet, lest we ruffle feathers, burn bridges, or not get the help we need in future. We know, yet we don’t speak.
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/bureaucratic-hurdles-in-researching-nepals-bureaucracy">Bureaucratic hurdles in researching Nepal's bureaucracy</a>, Daniel W Edwards
Here is one example: the 2021 census shows that the number of baby boys born for every 100 baby girls is 112. This is a clear indication of female foeticide because of boy preference in society.
Despite such horrifying realities, there is finger-pointing within the government between the Ministry of Health and Population with the Ministry of Home Affairs. At the citizen level, we know those who are involved in killing girls. Yet, we don’t speak up. The Nepal Medical Council reports state that despite this gender imbalance at birth, there is no indication of any action.
But why would anyone speak against one's own fraternity, no matter how vile the act is?
When we accept and keep quiet, we become dependent on those who yield power. From getting our government procedure completed on time to getting transfers, to accessing any of our legally protected rights as well, we are forced to depend on our networks of चिनेको मान्छे people we know by blood, village, relations, political affiliation.
The culture of dependency has been the established way in Nepal. If you drive a two-wheeler or four-wheeler, and you get into a small accident, you will be asked to sort it yourself, dialing up the most powerful person you know. It becomes a competition of who knows who.
Recently I was told that there were calls from the Ministry of Health and Population and another from the Prime Minister's Office for just one medical position in a private hospital. Each was pushing its own candidate. Guess which candidate got the position.&nbsp;
The dependency of people is not on the laws or the state, it is with people in power, a reliance on the network of somebody who knows somebody, including those not officially in power.
These cultures are deeply ingrained in our heads, and in society. Collectively they form a vicious circle that helps those in power to retain power. This is not the society we want to live in.
Then, what do we do as a collective to break away from this? How do we break away from the cultures of acceptance and silence that have created this dependency? What can we do to ensure that our children do not have to learn the jargon of आन्दोलन before they learn about the state?
These are the cultures political parties need to shed rather than use them to perpetuate their power. This is what <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/an-alternative-to-alternative-politics-in-nepal">alternative politics</a> needs to be about.
Sumana Shrestha is a member of Parliament’s Education, Health and Information Technology parliamentary committee and represents the Rastriya Swatantara Party.