Artist Highlight - Yahvi Duggal

1. Antaral translates the idea of a pause or interval into a woven textile. How did you approach expressing this concept of time through material and colour?

Antaral refers to a pause or interval. For me, life moves through many kinds of pauses. Some feel calm, some suspended, and others slightly tense. I approached this idea through colour transitions across the woven surface. I resist dyed and dip dyed certain yarns so the colours shift gradually, while some transitions remain more abrupt to reflect how life moves through different phases. The idea of Antaral became most visible while weaving and observing how colours interacted. Instead of creating pauses through spacing in the weave, I allowed colour itself to carry those moments of stillness and change.

2. The dyes used in the work are derived from kitchen waste collected from a restaurant. How does this daily exchange influence the rhythm and palette of the piece?

The palette developed directly from materials collected from the restaurant kitchen. Onion peels were the biggest surprise. I had seen people extract colour from them before, but I did not expect such an intense golden tone. That discovery actually introduced colour into my work for the first time. Some days the kitchen had materials to share and other days there was nothing, which influenced the rhythm of the process. The whole space slowly became aware of the project because I was boiling onion peels in the shared kitchen and drying corn husks in the sun.

3. Materials such as corn husk, banana fibre, and wool coexist within the textile. How do these different fibres shape the structure and texture of the work?

Each fibre brings a different quality to the work. Banana fibre adds strength and structure, corn husks create flatter and slightly rigid surfaces, and wool introduces softness that holds everything together. The corn husks were dried before weaving so they kept their crisp texture. I did not try to control these materials too much. Instead I allowed them to behave naturally within the weave so they could shape the texture themselves. When these fibres sit next to each other they create areas that feel dense, textured, or soft, allowing the surface to reflect the natural character of each material.

4. The work incorporates subtle interruptions within the colour fields. What do these unexpected visual elements represent within the narrative of the piece?

The interruptions within the colour fields come from shifts in fibre and the behaviour of natural dyes during the process. At certain moments colour changes slightly or texture becomes more pronounced when a different material enters the weave. These variations were not always planned but developed naturally through the interaction between dye, fibre, and weaving. I see them as visual expressions of the pauses that occur in life. Just as life moves through moments of stillness, disruption, and reflection, these interruptions break the continuity of the surface and mark those pauses within the woven structure.

5. Your process begins with discarded organic matter. How does transforming waste into textile form shift the way we think about value and material life?

My work begins with materials that are usually discarded, such as onion peels or avocado pits. When people first see the work they rarely recognise the origin of these materials. Many assumed the golden colour came from turmeric until they learned it is onion peel. That moment of curiosity becomes important. I want viewers to reconsider the materials they throw away every day. Transforming waste through dyeing, weaving, and labour shifts how we understand value. The material itself may be considered worthless, but the time and care invested into it give it a new presence.

6. Hand weaving introduces a slow, meditative rhythm to the making process. How does this pace influence the conceptual development of the work?

Weaving feels very close to meditation for me. The repeated movement of the loom creates a rhythm that you slowly settle into. Because the work grows thread by thread, you spend long periods observing colour and texture closely. This slowness allows the ideas within the piece to develop gradually rather than being fixed from the beginning. The loom taught me patience and trust in the process. It also reminded me how much can be created simply through the movement of hands working with materials over time.

7. The textile reflects both planned colour transitions and unpredictable outcomes from natural dyes. How do you balance intention and chance within the making process?

I usually begin with an intention for how colours might move across the work, but natural dyes always introduce unpredictability. Onion peels were a good example because they produced a bright golden colour that I had not expected. There was also a moment when I accidentally cut several warp yarns while opening the resists after dyeing. My heart stopped because I had spent almost twelve hours preparing those yarns. However that damaged section later created a highly textured area that people often notice first. Experiences like this taught me to accept change rather than correct it.

8. Within The Invisible Made Visible, the work foregrounds overlooked material cycles and labour. What do you hope viewers begin to notice about the relationship between waste, craft, and care when encountering this piece?

The work connects food systems and textile practices. In India, where I grew up, both food and textiles have strong traditions of careful material use and very little waste. I am interested in bringing these two worlds together through weaving. When viewers learn that the colours and fibres come from kitchen waste, I hope it encourages them to rethink the waste they generate every day. The work is really about care, both for materials and for the labour involved in transforming them.