The unreality of her art

Devaki Nirula's photo-montages explore interpretations of abstractions

Devaki Nirula insists that she's 24, but it would be easy to mistake her for a schoolgirl who's cutting a particularly gruelling algebra class to spend some time in the sun.

However, certain factors immediately dispel this image; for one, she's in the Triveni Kala Sangam in New Delhi, not the first choice of retreat for class-cutting schoolgirls. For another, it's her work that's on display.

It's Nirula's first exhibition. Most of the images are abstract, and some are printed on canvas, giving the impression of being a curious blend of painting and photography.

This quality of being somehow indefinable and nebulous runs through the exhibition like a theme: nothing is, literally and figuratively, black and white.

"All my work is very personal, it's my interpretation of the world," she explains. "And of course, all art is. It's impossible to paint, or write, or photograph, without putting your own spin on what you're seeing. I think in this sense, we're all artists "" nothing you see, that you take as reality, is absolute, but always your own interpretation, an interpretation that borrows from your personal experiences, your life, your culture, your values."

Starting out with a foundation course in Birmingham, Nirula later went to Paris and New York, where she graduated from Parsons. She only really sounds her age when she talks dreamily of the lights of Paris, laughs about her experiences at university in New York and her talks of plans to study in California.

She's evolved, she says, from black and white photography which she was almost fanatically attached to, to colour photography, to being so comfortable in her medium that she can play around with it and experiment, something her exhibition reflects.

Nirula's work is as varied and self-contrasting as she is herself: there are splashes of colour, flurries of movement, but also minimalist pauses filled with still, dark spaces.

None of the photographs are "conventional"; nothing is literally represented, everything a metaphor. The few literal shots that there are, are subdued and somewhat surreal. It's an interesting snapshot of a budding artist's mind "" the enthusiasm, the indecision, the restlessness and the sudden attacks of doubt.

There is a quality of innocence about Nirula, for instance when she tells you that she takes her inspiration not from a single formal school of thought but from "the world", but it complements her seriousness and her determination, and you know as she struggles for words to describe her work that she is an artist to watch.

As she talks to you in her clear, piping voice, it surprises you how sure she is about her work and the statement she wants to make. Her photography is still experimental, she hasn't discovered herself, let alone how she wants to approach the world.

But she makes up for this with her enthusiasm and talent, her breathless plans for the future "" he wants to study; she wants to teach (she's planned a workshop for school kids here in Delhi); she wants to keep working and keep evolving. Her enthusiasm is tinged with a little naïvete, but then she's only 24.