Debjani Banerjee’s exhibition Jalsaghar, which translates to ‘The Music Room’, is an exploration of identity, culture, and heritage. Her multimedia works draw on her childhood experiences growing up as a British Bengali during the 1980s. SNACK managed to speak to Debjani ahead of the opening, to find out more about the dream-like nature of the show, her use of collaboration, and the pride she feels for her culture today.
So what’s the show all about?
The title is taken from a Satyajit Ray film of the same name, which was made in 1958. It’s not so much about the film itself, which is something we watched growing up, but is more the idea of a music room. One space is going to be my take on that and it will contain an audio work that my sister and her partner have made.
The room will be like a set – there will be low lighting, hopefully a dance floor, and a mattress on the floor like in a traditional Indian music room. It’s working around the idea of being an invitation for people to sit and listen to the songs comfortably in a lounge, and to enter that space of contemplation and dreaming.
A lot of my work comes from dreams, childhood memories, and imaginary things.




The other space involves my take on Mahabharat, which was an 80s and 90s TV programme shown in Britain at the same time as it was in India. It was a key way for my family to share Indian culture with us, which was very important to them. We would sit and watch it every Saturday and it had a real impact on me.
I was looking at the story of Draupadi, who’s one of the female characters in it, and then I became really interested in the other female characters and made a huge wall hanging, twelve metres long, depicting them. I’ve been running open studio sessions in Glasgow, so I’ve been inviting people to come in and help set up.
There’s a series of ceramics I’ve made that are quite surreal, inspired by Hindu deities, but none of them actually are Hindu deities. It’s not so much the religious side that I’m interested in, but more the myths and the stories that we are told and how this impacts us as we grow older.




I will find it really interesting to see what you do with that space as a hub of creative expression. It seems more participatory than the one depicted in the film!
Definitely. I’ll be using the concept of a music room because when I think back to childhood, we would have gatherings and the harmonium would come out and everyone would sit around and appreciate it. I’m thinking about these moments of sharing space with each other and the idea that you can make that in Britain with like-minded people.
In terms of the binaries that come with having a British Asian background, do you see two sides as something that you can reconcile? Or is this show more a sort of celebration of the fact that you don’t have to?
It’s really complicated, isn’t it? I’m fluent in Bengali, but I remember going there when I was young and people could somehow tell I wasn’t from here. Then in the UK, I went through all the usual experiences you go through as a person of colour. But now I feel like I’m at a stage where I just want to celebrate all these parts of myself and the richness that I’ve grown with. I would like the show to be a celebration of that culture and identity.


Why was collaboration so important to this project?
There’s been an army of people who have been part of this. I’ve collaborated with Marta Aspe, who is a textile artist and is very knowledgeable about the Mahabharata, so she helped me work out how to make the banner.
There’s Bernie Reid, who made these incredible wooden sculptures that slot together, and those act as plinth structures for my sculptures. Then of course my sister and her partner, who are incredible. It’s been a really beautiful process to be working with my family in that way as well. I just don’t think this show would exist without these collaborations.
Jalsaghar will be on from 28 September till 21 December at the Centre of Contemporary Arts Glasgow (CCA), 350 Sauchiehall St, G2 3JD. More information about the exhibition can be found here.
Main Photo Credit: Oana Stanciu. Naach, Debjani Bannerjee, 2021