Bold, powerful and supremely talented, Rohit Chawla is an unstoppable creative force. His unfiltered and unhesitant being makes him bold. His power lies in how he utilizes his creativity to find reassurance within himself. His talent is evident in his impressive body of work, which includes multiple covers for India Today, the haunting image of Chinese artist Ai Weiwei lying face down on the beach as a tribute to the Syrian child refugee Aylan Kurdi, as well as portraits of prominent global figures such as Narendra Modi, Amitabh Bachchan, Jeff Bezos and over 300 authors.Even his travel portraits are among the most exceptional produced by any photographer.
Rohit shares a strong affinity with Cuba that comes across in his series Havana. Its timeless charm evokes nostalgia and a sense of history, making him feel transported to another era. We spoke to him to understand what keeps taking him back, and he patiently shared his story during a phone call from Switzerland. Here are some excerpts from our conversation.
You have beautifully transformed travel photography into fine art rather than merely capturing travel. What makes a travel photo become a fine art photo?
Travel photos, while readily available on platforms like Getty, often lack true meaning unless they incorporate a personal touch from the photographer. These images are typically taken at the most picturesque times and in perfect lighting, which makes them easily replaceable. Many traditional travel photographs have had their moment; they often feel repetitive. For me, when visiting stunning locations like Cuba, which feels frozen in time, there is a unique opportunity to present images in a purely artistic manner. I aim to move away from conventional styles and what is commonly depicted in magazines. I refer to my approach as ‘turning pixels into paint,’ as I deliberately take an anti-technical stance.
In today’s world, the technique has become incredibly accessible; even smartphones produce remarkable images that can rival traditional cameras. I strive to create a watercolour-like quality or an abstraction in my photographs, which can involve time exposure or capturing movement. If you had seen the exhibition, you would have noticed this balance between artistic expression and travel imagery in many of my pieces. My true passion lies in creating unconventional images with more abstraction. I embrace an impressionistic style when it comes to these travel photos, resulting in many blurred effects. One series I’ve created is titled Fleeting, which focuses on the waves hitting the Malecon. These images are some of the most poetic I’ve taken, shot in the middle of the night as expressions of Havana. Additionally, I’ve worked on a series capturing the Malecon, known as ‘the longest sofa in the world,’ which stretches for about eight kilometres. In the evenings, the city comes alive, gathering along this long stretch to interact with one another. My goal is to depict this sense of movement and colour as a painter would.
Since you’ve been to Cuba and photographed it multiple times, what is it about that city that draws you in?
It’s simply that it feels frozen in time. Visiting Cuba is like taking a trip back into nostalgia—a nostalgia that we lack in today’s consumer-driven world. This phenomenon isn’t confined to Cuba or India; it’s representative of changes happening all over the world. If someone were to say, ‘Let me take you back to the 1960s and show you what the world was like,’ they would be referring to the experience of Cuba. It’s like taking a walk back in time—not with a time machine, but through a long flight. It’s truly stunning. There are moments when you feel as if you’re really not in the 21st century at all.
As a travel photographer, what do you look for in a city? Is it the people, the culture, or the architecture?
For me, architecture is my greatest passion in life. I consider it one of the purest forms of art. While music is the purest of all the arts, architecture follows closely behind. It involves creating a three-dimensional space, which is much more expansive than simply putting a painting or photograph on a wall. Architects lead a privileged life; they create in what I would call ‘cinemascope,’ in contrast to the limited scope of what we can capture with our phones. I admire the poetry of straight lines. I grew up being inspired by Charles Correa, and I was fortunate enough to know John Poisson. I even photographed Frank Lloyd Wright’s Guggenheim Museum myself in a graphic style. There’s something beautiful about minimalism and the simplicity of straight lines. I wouldn’t call myself a maximalist by any means, but I’m beginning to soften my previously Spartan approach to architecture. My wife has encouraged me to embrace a bit more diversity in my style. I’ve just built a new studio in Goa that reflects a brutalist and minimalistic design, which stands in stark contrast to my old house. This studio serves as an art residency and a culinary space for chefs.
It’s located near my home in Assagao. I created it for my friends, aiming for a brutalist structure, while my previous home had a more traditional charm. I always enjoy playing architect in the small ways I can, even though I don’t have the luxury of large-scale projects—maybe that will come in another life.
Words Hansika Lohani
Date 02.12.2024