Pankaj Tiwari: My work is a reaction to the time, the place, and the context in which I find myself"

He folded 15,000 paper planes for a theatre piece (Paper Planes) and co-created a performance about right-wing extremism with Michiel Vandevelde and Eneas Prawdzic. He has worked in Zurich, Minnesota, and Amsterdam. Since graduating from DAS Theatre in Amsterdam five years ago, artist and curator Pankaj Tiwari hasn’t sat still, quite the opposite. The Harvest of Broken Promises will be his first CAMPO production. All the more reason to talk with him about his practice, his growth as an artist, future creations, and more.

How are you? What are you currently working on?

I’m doing well. I am at CAMPO working on a new creation titled The Harvest of Broken Promises. It’s a performance about food, agriculture, and the structures of dependency that corporations have built around farming. The backbone of the piece is the transformation of Indian agriculture after companies like Monsanto entered the market when the Indian government liberalised the economy in the nineties. But the work isn't just about India. It’s about how dependency is created globally, how farmers everywhere are slowly driven from autonomy towards systems of debt, control, and false promises.

How did the idea for your new performance at CAMPO come about?

I come from Balrampur, a place in northern India near the border with Nepal. My entire family is still active in farming. Until the nineties, agriculture was largely cyclical and self-sufficient. When India opened its markets and embraced neoliberal policies, multinational corporations saw opportunities in a country of a billion people. Monsanto entered the market with genetically modified seeds. In the beginning, the seeds were distributed for free, with the promise of higher yields and prosperity. Farmers were sold a dream, but not the long-term consequences. In the past 25 years, nearly 400,000 farmers in India have committed suicide. The Harvest of Broken Promises is about how hope was turned into dependency.

What thematic or formal thread runs through your various artistic creations?

It was only after I came to Europe in 2019 (to study at DAS Theatre) that I realised many artists work around specific themes. My work is primarily a reaction to the time, the place, and the context in which I find myself. So I don’t think in fixed themes, either in my work as an artist, or in my work as a curator. The themes change, but my political views and values remain constant. I always say that my artistic practice has a curatorial vision, and that my curatorship has an artistic approach. Collaboration is also central. I build structures with people. Some collaborations succeed, others fail, but building together is what matters. The final key point is using art to create structures that go beyond the artwork itself.

What was your first encounter with art that changed your life?

I don’t come from a family of artists. I was the first in my family and village to go to university. I went to study science and ended up at a good university with a strong culture of student associations, debates, theatre, dance, and sports. I came into contact with theatre almost by accident when I was 19. But once I started, it never let me go. So there wasn't one single encounter; it was a gradual love. Since then, not a day has gone by where I haven't done something with art.

How do your private life and your artistry influence each other? Where do they merge seamlessly, and where does friction arise?

For me, art and life are not separate. That doesn't mean others are wrong if they do separate them; both approaches can exist. If I can’t practice something, it doesn't feel honest to bring it onto the stage.

I believe artists have the ability not only to criticise, but also to make proposals and bring about change. For example, I share my studio in Amsterdam with artists who receive no subsidies, without financial compensation. Through my networks, I try to organise residencies and collaborations between Europe and India. We can't wait until institutions run perfectly. So those who are part of them also bear responsibility. It’s not always about money; time, networks, space, and care can also be shared.

What feeling or insight do you hope the audience will take away when they leave the theatre?

I don’t necessarily want the audience to leave feeling comfortable and happy. I want them to walk out with questions, with responsibility, a bit of confrontation, and perhaps some tension in their bodies. I want the audience to realise they are not outside the system being criticised. They are part of it. If they go to sleep with an uncomfortable feeling after a performance, that is meaningful. You could say I make art to confront.

What are you trying to let go of to grow further as an artist? 

For two years, I’ve been trying to let go of hate. I think there is a fine line between anger and hate. The origin of that feeling is that I wasn't accepted in the art world in India because I don't come from a financially wealthy family. So I enrolled in multiple master’s programmes and used the infrastructure of universities to make theatre. My European journey also began with a few encounters that made that feeling even stronger. But now I feel more and more that you achieve nothing with hate.

What comes after the project you are currently preparing? What else is in the pipeline?

A project I want to realise is Opera to the People. A few years ago, I co-created a one-person opera with Maria Magdalena Kozłowska that was performed on the canals of Amsterdam, and later toured to Berlin, Freiburg, and Zurich. I’ve always wanted to expand it into a large-scale opera on a boat, with singers, musicians, and dancers; but as a self-producing and independent artist, I lacked the resources. I hope to realise this project one day in Ghent or elsewhere. Another project is called NO. It’s about rejecting institutional expectations of me as a migrant or 'outsider'. I want to make a performance that says no to these imposed narratives and demands that I am simply treated as an artist.

As an artist, you think in terms of the duration of 'projects'. Where do you hope to see yourself in the long term? Are there big dreams you hope to achieve?

I prefer to achieve dreams and then share them, rather than announcing them in advance. Every day I build towards the long term through small, concrete actions. And I will continue to do so. For example, I dreamed of institutional support that I didn't have – I never talked about it – but I kept working and making performances, and today I can make a performance with you. I am very grateful to Michiel for inviting me to CAMPO, because for a long time, it was a dream to have these creative conditions.