INTERVIEW | Manas Arvind
10 Questions with Manas Arvind
Manas Arvind's journey into photography began at the age of 13 when his elder brother handed him a Zenit TTL with a 50mm prime lens. From that moment, the camera became an inseparable extension of his being. Film and processing were expensive, but his passion drove him to innovate—learning to mix primary chemicals and print in makeshift kitchen darkrooms. As a boy, he even disassembled and reconfigured the 50mm lens into a macro setup, unlocking the intricate stories hidden in his space.
At 16, his work was recognised nationally, earning him a place in the National Exhibition of Photographs by AIFACS—one of India's most esteemed art organisations. The following year, his portfolio was selected again, and at 18, he was featured in the National Lalit Kala Akademi show, standing alongside the country's most celebrated photographic artists. Over the next decade, Manas received numerous awards, participated in group exhibitions, and held three solo shows. He studied literature and photography at university and began his career in communication design.
For Manas, photography is more than an art; it is a medium for profound interaction with life. Drawn to the narratives and forms concealed in the ordinary, he sets aside the "trained mind" in favour of exploring "unconditioned spaces." His work invites viewers on this journey, offering a platform for personal introspection and discovery.
By the age of 23, Manas began to distance himself from public exhibitions and competitions, embracing a more intimate and introspective approach to photography. This shift allowed him the freedom to experiment and evolve without the constraints of external validation. His travels across India provide the backdrop for his ongoing documentation of life in its raw, unfiltered essence.
Since 2013, Manas has been practising permaculture design, regenerative farming, and the creation of resilient local food systems. His grassroots work intersects with critical issues such as climate change, social, political, gender, and economic justice. Beyond these efforts, he engages in reimagining development and education—perspectives that profoundly inform his photographic and literary expression.
Manas is particularly interested in using photography as a bridge to reveal the nuanced challenges and wonders he encounters while working with diverse communities and cultures. His work seeks to foster connections and inspire dialogue, weaving together stories that celebrate the interconnectedness of life and space.
Manas Arvind - Portrait
ARTIST STATEMENT
There is space between the words, sounds, lines, ideas, notions, and conditions. This very space is between the stars, trees, people, particles, and electrons. This space is a seamless continuum, nonchalantly filling the vastness between everything. What I know, what I perceive, and what I can imagine is insignificant compared to this space. This space renders useless every limit of existing definition, meaning, condition, and judgement. The magic happens in this space. I come naked to the stillness of this space. In this space, I am a child who has not learned the words. In this space, I feel the joy, the pain, the angst, the hunger, the dance, and the music.
In this space, the boundaries of being and not-being blur. Here, the paradox of existence reveals itself to me:
What is what I can't be
What I see is what I can't see
What I read is what I can't read
What I write is what I can't write
What I say is what I can't say
What I chew is what I can't chew
What I remember is what I can't remember
What I suppress is what I can't suppress
What I sleep on is what I can't sleep on
What I step for is what I can't step for
What I know is what I can't know
What I imagine is what I can't imagine
Engaged in climate action, permaculture design, regenerative systems, and grassroots community building, I am deeply drawn into the natural world in conflict with the industrial human ambition and mindset. This mindset tends to wield control through defining – useful and useless, alive and dead, rare and common. Slipping out of this defining mind, I slow myself down to observe freely in the stillness. Here, I catch fleeting glimpses of the vibrant, wondrous space. This glimmer reflects in the work I engage in. I use the camera or a pen to observe the vibrations, the colours, and the feelings in the body. These images I share with you in their moving stillness.
lens art, 16x24 in, 2020 © Manas Arvind
INTERVIEW
First of all, introduce yourself to our readers. Who are you, and how did you start experimenting with images?
Hi, I’m Manas Arvind. I was 13 when my brother handed me a Zenit SLR. Teen curiosity took over. I shot relentlessly, studied every frame, and spent hours in libraries devouring books on photography. One day, I opened up the only lens I had, rearranged its elements, and unknowingly created my own macro lens. That experiment changed everything. It pulled me into abstraction, into seeing beyond the obvious, into uncovering invisible spaces. And in many ways, I’m still on that journey.
I see my life as a seamless flow in space and time, in which I am just a childlike observer. Everything else—my interpretations, my actions—feels incidental and momentary. This perspective shaped how I approached photography.
By my early twenties, my work had been recognized in national exhibitions, winning awards and being showcased in solo and group shows. However, at 23, I stepped away from the public art circuit, exploring the practice at my own pace.
I currently live in India. After an entrepreneurial career in communication design, hospitality, and organic foods for over 20 years, I gravitated to my earthly callings. I now practice permaculture design, working on climate change and social justice, specifically through promoting regenerative agriculture and strengthening grassroots communities. My creative expression flows through this lived experience, capturing the essence of what I observe and encounter.
By the age of 23, you began distancing yourself from public exhibitions and competitions. What motivated this change, and how has it impacted your artistic journey?
By the age of 23, I found myself instinctively distancing from public exhibitions and competitions. I felt an increasing disconnect between the institutionalized frameworks of artistic validation and the deeply personal, evolving nature of my creative process. Photography, for me, had always been an act of quiet observation, a way of engaging with the world without the need for external affirmation. The competitive structures seemed to demand a kind of finality—a polished, packaged articulation of something that, for me, was still in flux.
Stepping away from these formal spaces allowed me to engage more intimately with my work. I experimented without constraints, explored abstraction, and allowed my images to be shaped by lived experience rather than audience expectations. This shift also led me to deeper explorations beyond photography—into permaculture, regenerative systems, and community resilience—where I found new ways to integrate art with life.
That said, my relationship with public artistic platforms continues to evolve. I now see them as spaces for dialogue rather than validation, which makes my engagement with them more intentional.
Hibiscule 1, lens art, 24x24 in, 2024 © Manas Arvind
Hibiscule 7, lens art, 24x24 in, 2024 © Manas Arvind
Hibiscule 5, lens art, 24x24 in, 2024 © Manas Arvind
Hibiscule 8, lens art, 24x24 in, 2024 © Manas Arvind
How would you define yourself as an artist today?
I strive to see my work as an unbiased act of discovery. While my lived experiences naturally find their way into my art and writings, I neither avoid nor allow them to dictate my process. Whatever I have learned so far is just an iota in the limitless unexplored space. My art flows from this awareness— in flux, open to the unknown.
Over the past two decades, my sensory and living experiences have been shaped by the natural, rural, and disadvantaged world. I witness the devastation caused by industrial mindsets—how they disconnect us from the land, the indigenous wisdom, and the natural rhythms that once nurtured us. These realities have become part of me, and inevitably, they surface in my work.
Compared to my first chapter as an artist, I now carry a bigger bucket of lived experience—physically, emotionally, and intellectually. Yet, the essence of my process remains the same: to observe, to sense, and to create without imposing meaning. My work is not an attempt to impress or dictate, but to exist—forming its own symphony of light and shadow, tangible and intangible, as we flow together in the stream of revealing it.
You've mentioned setting aside the "trained mind" in favor of exploring "unconditioned spaces." Could you elaborate on what this means for your creative process?
For me, setting aside the "trained mind" means stepping away from conditioned ways of seeing, interpreting, and creating.Born in this age, I recognize how deeply industrial ambitions have shaped our minds, our being, and society itself. We are subtly conditioned to measure, optimize, and conform to imposed structures. Even as I become aware of these shackles, no amount of digging feels enough to return to a natural state of being. This tension—between awareness and the longing for liberation—silently shapes my creative process.
I work consciously with technique, but I do not let structure dictate my approach. My process balances control and surrender, allowing intuition to lead. Unconditioned spaces, to me, exist before words assign meaning, before logic dictates form. In these spaces, my work unfolds fluidly, always reflecting my honest observations. The abstraction, however, invites the viewer to flow along—to surrender the need for meaning, to simply experience, or to subconsciously relate through their own journey. The natural creations arise in this interplay, where we both become the guide and the witness to what emerges.
Transist 1, lens art, 24x24 in, 2024 © Manas Arvind
Your work often uncovers narratives in the ordinary. What draws you to these hidden stories, and how do you translate them into your artworks?
I am more of an observer than an analyzer. I don’t rush to conclusions because I trust there is so much more to the ordinary than what meets the eye. Letting things as they are allows them to remain whole. This approach takes me in the open—walking alongside the so-called ‘ordinary,’ spending time, listening, playing, being silent, and pausing.
The moment I impose meaning, analysis, or utility, the journey halts. To truly partake in this flow, I must continuously un-condition myself, dissolving identity, rigidity, and separateness. My exploration crosses the normalized barriers of time and space. I find myself wondering: this withered flower in my hand, declared dead and useless—isn’t it made of the same cosmic dust as I am? How do we both relate in the same universe?
Expressing through art, I am working with this dust—both me and my subject, not separate but one. My work mirrors our slow walk together. Each piece is a deep interaction—where lived and unlived experiences, emotions, feelings, and indescribable vibrations converge, revealing something beyond the realm of expectations.
How has your involvement in permaculture design and regenerative farming informed your photographic and literary practices?
Permaculture is not just a design system; it is a way of seeing, interacting, and belonging. Its principles—observing before acting, valuing edges, embracing diversity, and integrating rather than segregating—have deeply shaped my photographic and literary practices.
I approach subjects as I would a landscape: not extracting, but engaging in a reciprocal relationship. Just as permaculture teaches patience—allowing natural patterns to emerge—I practice deep observation, resisting the urge to impose meaning too soon. My photography finds stories in the overlooked, much like permaculture values the edges—where different systems meet, and transformation occurs. A dried flower, a broken shell, a moment of stillness—all hold narratives to be heard.
Both permaculture and my creative work are about reciprocity. Whether tending land or composing an image, I seek not to control but to collaborate, knowing every interaction—whether with soil, light, or words—leaves an imprint. The ethics of Earth Care, People Care, and Fair Share extend into my art, reminding me that creativity, like nature, flourishes through intention and respect.
My creative and ecological journeys are intertwined. They are both acts of participation in a larger web of relationships—ones that require patience, humility, and a willingness to surrender to the unknown.
Silence 1, lens art, 16x24 in, 2024 © Manas Arvind
Silence 2, lens art, 16x24 in, 2024 © Manas Arvind
Your work intersects with issues like climate change and economic justice. How do you use your practice to raise awareness and foster dialogue around these topics?
At its core, my work is an act of witnessing—not just what is visible, but what is silently eroding, regenerating, resisting, and transforming. Climate change and economic justice are not abstract issues; they are deeply personal, lived experiences. My practice does not seek to merely document them but to create spaces for reflection, connection, and dialogue.
Through photography, I highlight the subtle imprints of change. These images are conversations, inviting viewers to pause, question, and seek themselves within these narratives.
My engagement in regenerative agriculture and local economies also informs how I create and share my work. Just as permaculture values closed-loop systems and equitable resource distribution, I explore ways to make art participatory—whether by working with grassroots communities, documenting their stories in ways that empower them, or creating platforms for collective storytelling.
Economic justice is woven into this process. Who gets to tell their story? Who has access to creative expression? In a world where economic disparity often dictates whose voices are heard, I strive to challenge these barriers by working directly with communities, ensuring that art is not just for passive consumption but a tool for agency and change.
Art, like ecosystems, thrives on diversity, adaptation, and reciprocity. Whether through my photographs, written reflections, or collaborations, I hope to cultivate not just awareness but a felt understanding—one that moves beyond urgency and toward imaginative, regenerative possibilities.
Over the course of your career, you've experimented with innovative techniques. What role does experimentation play in your art today?
Experimentation and improvisation have been central to my practice, but not for the sake of novelty—it is a means of discovery. My approach is about pushing the boundaries of perception while maintaining deep control over my medium.
I see experimentation as a tightrope walk between control and surrender—balancing technique with intuition. Whether deconstructing a lens to see beyond its intended use, manipulating light to reveal unseen textures, or allowing time and organic processes to shape an image, I engage with my medium as an active participant rather than a passive tool.
Experimentation is my way to unshackle the conditioned mind and societal norms that have embedded themselves deeply. It allows me to become more fluid, to extend my vision beyond the familiar, to step into the uncharted. The more I know, the more I realize how little I truly know—and experimentation teaches me to be comfortable with that uncertainty.
Today, my experimentation is deliberate and immersive. It stems from a deepened awareness of how conditioned we are in the way we see, think, and create. I challenge myself to move beyond these limitations—not by rejecting structure, but by un-conditioning my engagement with it.
I explore how materials, time, and perception interact, allowing the work to emerge in unseen ways. In this process, the act of creation becomes a dialogue—between myself, the medium, and the unknown.
Scream, lens art, 16x24 in, 2020 © Manas Arvind
What themes or projects are you currently exploring, and how do you see your work evolving in the future?
I am currently exploring the notional boundaries of utility and beauty—challenging how we assign meaning, function, and value to things. My focus is on the space between the said and the unsaid, the known and the undefined. This vast space exists around us, within us, shaping our experiences even when we don’t name it.
I am drawn to the music and wordless language of the universe, searching for it in small, often overlooked objects—the kind that remain invisible to a measuring, analytical mind. My work seeks to dissolve rigid definitions and open up a more fluid way of seeing and experiencing.
As I continue this journey, I envision creating multi-dimensional works that break the barriers of space and time—where layers of perception, memory, and presence interact freely. The process itself is deeply immersive, and with each new piece, I find a revelation waiting to unfold. My work is not moving towards a fixed destination; rather, it is evolving as an ongoing dialogue with the unseen, the unmeasured, and the infinite possibilities that lie beyond the defined.
Lastly, speaking of the future, where do you see yourself and your work in five years from now?
For me, climate action, regenerative practices, education, justice, and creative expression are not separate pursuits but different facets of the same journey. As I delve deeper into these interconnected fields, my creative expression evolves alongside them.
The work I do in regenerative systems and justice is a relentless, long-term commitment, one that unfolds gradually. I can only hope it moves in a positive direction, even if the change is small. My creative practice, on the other hand, exists outside the constraints of time and space—it becomes the vehicle through which I navigate this journey.
In the coming years, I look forward to diving deeper within, refining my practice not just as a personal exploration but asa means of engagement. I want my work to invite the audience in—to stir their own questioning, their own resilience. Art, for me, is not just about creating but about opening doors—to new perspectives, to unspoken dialogues, to forgotten connections with the world and with ourselves. Where this path leads in 5 years, is not as material—as to know it will be a journey worth taking.
Artist’s Talk
Al-Tiba9 Interviews is a promotional platform for artists to articulate their vision and engage them with our diverse readership through a published art dialogue. The artists are interviewed by Mohamed Benhadj, the founder & curator of Al-Tiba9, to highlight their artistic careers and introduce them to the international contemporary art scene across our vast network of museums, galleries, art professionals, art dealers, collectors, and art lovers across the globe.