5 Questions with Sancintya Mohini Simpson


 

Sancintya Mohini Simpson is a descendant of indentured labourers sent from India to work on colonial sugar plantations in South Africa.

Her work navigates the complexities of migration, memory, and trauma—addressing gaps and silences within the colonial archive. Simpson’s work moves between painting, video, poetry and performance
to develop narratives and construct rituals that
reflect on her maternal lineage.

 

No.1

How would you describe your artistic philosophy?

I make art to make sense of my world, and process personal, familial and external histories. It’s also a way to connect to research on a deeper level, uncover truths and make connections.

I’m in a privileged position to choose to be an artist—unlike the women who came before me and therefore I feel it is my duty and role to share their stories and give space for them.

No.2

How was ām / amma / mā maram conceived? What do you recall as your earliest aesthetic memories connected to your current artistic practice?

ām / amma / mā maram is the result of my examination of the lack of representation of my familial histories in the archive—the archive [itself] being a western construct constructed for the western world’s own uses. The work seeks these stories in memories of materials, senses and the body. It questions the idea of place and what makes a home, while also looking at the displacement of flora, people and their relationships.

Growing up, we had predominately religious Hindu imagery on the walls in our home, [and were] taken to religious programs and surrounded by religious songs and rituals. Experiencing, hearing and seeing stories told in this way thereby influenced my own methods of storytelling. We also spent significant amounts of time in domestic gardens, parks, botanic gardens, libraries and art galleries, which I believe comes through in my work.

No.3 

The exhibition, your first in Western Australia, comprises sculpture, painting and poetry to give voice to the stories of indentured Indian women who have been marginalised or erased in colonial archives, paying special attention to your own family history. Can you tell us how the different mediums come together for you to express your ancestral histories?

The work uses multiple mediums as each provides different nuances that complement the others. It also addresses the fact that we don’t just experience histories through images or sound. For example a scent work—as scent is a powerful memory trigger—exists in the space; it is combined with linking elements in the show such as mango leaf and jasmine flowers. Imagery such as Indian miniature painting is used traditionally to depict the “upper classes” or religious imagery, so placing that on rusted corrugated iron with its striking materiality further subverts that.

No.4

In an interview about the show, you say, ‘It’s about acknowledging these histories, creating space for discussion, rather than having shame surrounding them. But that acknowledgement also allows current descendants and generations to be able to move forward in positive ways.’ I am curious to hear if you’ve received much feedback from other South Asian women with similar histories; how do you think your work has communicated these violent and unspoken lineages to others like yourself?

I have been grateful to those who have reached out for sharing their experiences. It creates a great opportunity for connection and solidarity. What is [often] shared back to me is that the histories of my own family echo their own. I am also part of a wider community of artists looking at these histories, such as Shivanjani Lal and Shiraz Bayjoo, who along with their own important practices, have generously supported mine.

No.5

What kinds of emotions come up when exploring something so personal and often deeply tied to structures of violence? To what extent do you see art, in particular ām / amma / mā maram, as important and necessary for processing anger, pain and trauma? Where do you think it goes from there?

Oftentimes it’s hard as you explore these heavy themes, because they are so significant. At the same time, [it is only through] confronting and responding [that] you can engage in ways that help process them. Art is important to processing these things as it’s a method of communication that expresses and engages with issues ranging from literal to abstract, and in similarly literal to abstract ways. By responding and engaging you can help redirect energies from destructive to constructive ends. The work will always be ongoing.

 

 

In ām / ammā / mā maram, Meanjin (Brisbane)-based artist Sancintya Mohini Simpson continues research into her matrilineal heritage, making visible the histories of indentured Indian women that remain marginal or erased in colonial archives.  

A first-generation Australian and descendant of labourers sent from the port of Madras (now Chennai), India, to work on sugar plantations in the British colony of Natal (now KwaZulu-Natal), South Africa between 1863 and 1911, Simpson’s exhibition traces her family’s journey through the use of materials common to these places and histories – such as sugarcane and mango. 

Through a combination of paintings, sculpture, poetry and scent, Simpson’s speculative archive speaks to the complexities of intergenerational trauma, memory, migration and healing. With a practice spanning painting, moving image, installation, poetry and performance, this is Simpson’s first exhibition in Western Australia. 

The exhibition runs till 22 October at PICA’s West End Gallery. More info here.


Cher Tan