Nilima Sheikh, an artist with a career spanning over fifty years, recalls one of her most memorable experiences during her 2014 exhibition in Chicago. Security personnel approached her after being profoundly affected by her artwork, which they connected to political issues in various regions. “They were touched by what I created,” she reflects.
The exhibition titled “Each Night Put Kashmir in Your Dreams” showcased pieces that delve into the rich cultural heritage of Kashmir while addressing its current instability. Sheikh emphasizes that such a critical subject could easily be overlooked and simplified as merely “South Asian art,” resulting in a potential loss of its intricate political interpretation for Western audiences. However, she believes in the viewer’s capacity for understanding. “Art is akin to music; while those well-versed in classical music may gain deeper insights, those less familiar can still appreciate its beauty,” she explains, as she prepares to depart for New York, where her first solo exhibition, “Fractured Skies,” is being held at the Museum of Modern Art (MoMA).
The exhibition features three series: the aforementioned “Each Night Put Kashmir in Your Dreams” (2003-14), “Home, Land” (2023-25) which explores the lives of the nomadic Bakarwal people of Kashmir, and the upcoming “Shahid/Witness” (2025-26) that expands her focus to climate change while continuing to address themes of displacement and conflict.
Sheikh’s interest in environmental issues was sparked by images of devastating floods in Uttarakhand, prompting her to explore literature by authors such as Amitav Ghosh. “The glaciers in the Himalayas are melting at an alarming rate. This is a long-standing issue, not just a recent phenomenon,” she notes.
In her paintings, Sheikh incorporates the Simurgh, a mythical bird from the Persian tale “Anwar-e-Suhaili,” which depicts the creature saving a couple of sandpipers from the sea’s wrath. In her piece “Climate Change/Flood 2,” the surge of a river, fed by melting glaciers, devastates the sandpipers’ nest and takes away trees, boats, and human homes. While the Simurgh hovers protectively over the nest, the image starkly contrasts the cycle of life, representing both the fragility of existence and the possibility of renewal.
Sheikh expresses that the sky serves as a witness to these events. “If there is any remaining sense of sanity, it is perhaps found above,” she adds, mentioning that this concept was inspired by Chinese artworks, particularly the Mogao Grottoes, where space is utilized to create depth rather than being treated as mere emptiness.
Born into a family with a history in medicine, Sheikh’s artistic inclinations can be traced back to her upbringing. Her maternal grandfather established the Gulab Devi Memorial Tuberculosis Hospital for Women in Lahore in 1934, at the urging of Lala Lajpat Rai. Both her parents were medical professionals, with her mother being a pathologist and a naturalist. “My mother had a deep appreciation for the visual arts, and we frequently visited museums,” shares the 80-year-old artist.
Her formative years at Delhi’s Modern School played a crucial role in shaping her artistic journey. “The art room was more than just a classroom,” she recalls. “We were taught by artists Kanwal and Devyani Krishna, which was quite unusual for that era. Additionally, Narendra Sharma, a disciple of Uday Shankar, introduced us to modern dance, making art a desirable profession at a time when it wasn’t widely recognized as such.”
Sheikh pursued a bachelor’s degree in history at the University of Delhi, followed by a master’s in painting from MSU Baroda. Her current artistic expression reflects her educational journey. For instance, her work “Dying Dreaming” (2007-10) exemplifies the influence of her early years, featuring a double-sided scroll structure that juxtaposes Kashmir’s geopolitical struggles with everyday life. The intricate craftsmanship mirrors the style found in Persian miniatures, a skill she cultivated at MSU Baroda.
Collaboration is a fundamental aspect of Sheikh’s artistic practice, bridging the gap between artist and artisan, as well as between text and imagery. Quotations from literature she engages with often find their way into her artworks. In one of her pieces at MoMA, she incorporated verses from Miyah poet Shalim Hussain and collaborates with Sanjhi stencil artists from Mathura to enhance the narrative of her large-scale paintings.
Sheikh views this blending of skills and knowledge as a natural process. “Why should one form of expression limit another? They can enrich each other’s meanings,” she asserts, noting that the rigid concepts of originality that dominated the modernist era have evolved.
Traditional techniques have significantly influenced her work as a post-modern artist, drawing from the narrative and structural elements of miniature painting and the use of casein tempera on handmade, layered wasli paper, alongside the vertical scroll painting traditions of China and Japan. “During my training with KG Subramanyan, I learned to focus on visual language rather than adhering strictly to style. This perspective has led me to study historical paintings not just for their aesthetic appeal, but also for their linguistic qualities,” she explains.
When Sheikh speaks about Kashmir, there is a palpable sense of authority and familiarity, as if she is reminiscing with a close friend. The region first emerged in her work in 2003, marking the beginning of her deep exploration into its complexities.
