Shots in the Dark is the latest solo exhibition by Chandra Bhattacharjee, presented by Art Alive Gallery at Shridharani Art Gallery, Triveni Kala Sangam, New Delhi, from 19th to 24th July 2026. Comprising charcoal drawings on paper, the exhibition offers a profound and sensitive reflection on the presence, dignity, and invisible existence of those who live on the margins of contemporary society.
By Dr. Ved Prakash Bhardwaj
The title, Shots in the Dark, embodies both uncertainty and revelation. It is an attempt to see and understand a world that remains hidden from view despite existing in plain sight. It seeks out lives that have been persistently excluded from the centre of social and political discourse. For Chandra Bhattacharjee, drawing is not merely an act of visual representation; it is an ethical testimony—one that compels us to look at those human beings whom we have gradually learned not to see.
The people who inhabit these drawings are neither epic heroes nor symbolic protagonists. They are ordinary individuals of our time—beggars, the homeless, migrant workers, neglected elderly people, and all those who struggle to survive within the informal economies of the city. They sleep on pavements, carry their entire world in worn plastic bags, search for possibilities of survival among discarded objects, or sit alone in silent resignation, enduring the indifference of both time and society. These are scenes that unfold around us every day, yet our gaze often passes over them without acknowledgement. Chandra arrests precisely these fleeting moments, transforming them into visual experiences that compel the viewer to pause and truly look.
The choice of charcoal as the primary medium is not merely technical but deeply conceptual. Working almost entirely with layers of black, white, and grey, the artist constructs a visual language in which the absence of colour becomes meaningful in itself. Occasional touches of yellow lend an uncanny, almost mysterious quality to the compositions. Here, the disappearance of colour serves as a metaphor for lives from which hope, identity, and social recognition have gradually been stripped away. The density of charcoal, its soft and blurred surfaces, the subtle balance of light and shadow, and its shifting tonalities together evoke both the physical vulnerability and the inner resilience of the figures. The expressive possibilities of the medium enable the artist to communicate the uncertainty and transience of human existence with remarkable intensity.
One of the most striking qualities of these works is that they never transform poverty or deprivation into visual spectacle. There is neither sentimental pity nor the aestheticisation of suffering. Chandra approaches his subjects with restraint, empathy, and profound respect. His figures often inhabit sparse and open compositions, where empty space carries as much significance as the bodies themselves. Their silence speaks more eloquently than words. Their gestures are ordinary, their faces often expressionless, yet they embody resilience, endurance, and an unmistakable sense of dignity.
The exhibition also raises fundamental questions about visibility and representation. Who is seen, and who is rendered invisible? Whose stories become part of history and public memory, and whose lives disappear without leaving a trace? Chandra Bhattacharjee’s drawings direct our attention to this politics of invisibility. His subjects are visibly present on the streets, pavements, railway stations, and marketplaces of our cities, yet they remain almost entirely absent from the social, economic, and political structures that shape public life. Rather than claiming to speak on their behalf, the artist creates a space in which their presence becomes impossible to ignore.
In a broader sense, Shots in the Dark also invites reflection on the prevailing narratives of urbanisation and development. Modern cities are often celebrated as symbols of progress, construction, and economic growth. Yet running parallel to these triumphant narratives are countless lives left behind by the very processes of development. Chandra’s drawings remind us that the true measure of a society lies not only in its buildings, roads, or economic achievements, but equally in its capacity to acknowledge and care for its most vulnerable and neglected citizens.
The deep humanism that permeates these works constitutes one of the exhibition’s most compelling qualities. Even amid poverty and hardship, the artist refuses to reduce his subjects to mere symbols of suffering. Each figure retains its own individuality, dignity, and will to endure. Through careful observation and the disciplined use of charcoal, Chandra restores a sense of humanity to those whose identities have gradually been eroded by social neglect. For him, drawing is not simply an act of documentation; it is a creative practice rooted in compassion, memory, and human dignity.
Ultimately, Shots in the Dark is not simply an exhibition about poverty or social marginalisation. It is a profound artistic exploration of the complex relationships between seeing and being seen, presence and absence, memory and oblivion, empathy and indifference. Chandra Bhattacharjee transforms ordinary moments of everyday life into extraordinary visual experiences, urging us to look again at those who have always been before our eyes, yet have remained absent from our collective consciousness.
Alongside the large-scale charcoal drawings, the exhibition also includes a series of smaller works executed in charcoal, pastel, and poster colour. Titled Possession, these works focus on the humble belongings of ordinary people—bedding, utensils, crutches, and other everyday objects. Suspended beneath translucent layers, these possessions appear much like their owners: visible yet elusive, present yet fading from sight. In these works, Chandra reveals the intimate relationship between people and the objects that define their existence, transforming ordinary belongings into poignant markers of memory, identity, and survival.
Long after one leaves the exhibition, these images continue to resonate, leaving behind a quiet yet urgent question: Do we truly see those with whom we share the same city every day?
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