Reshma Chordia, founder of Art Explore, moves between the worlds of art and enterprise with clarity and intent. As a gallerist, she champions practices rooted in introspection, process and personal narrative. As an entrepreneur, she builds platforms like Apsic Art that open new ways of experiencing and collecting contemporary art. In this conversation, she speaks about her curatorial values, the artists she supports, and how she’s rethinking art ecosystems from both within and beyond the gallery space.

Curatorial Statement

“I believe that the act of looking inward is where all meaningful interpretation begins. My curatorial approach centres around artists who reflect deeply on the self to better understand the world around them. These personal explorations become entry points into larger social, historical, cultural and environmental conversations.

I am drawn to practices where the artist’s inner world intersects with wider realities — where memory, identity, conflict, belonging and ecological change are not treated as abstract ideas but lived experience. The gallery is a space for these layered expressions to be shared, questioned and reimagined.

Each exhibition is shaped to hold space for vulnerability, rigour and dissent. I see the artist not as a commentator from the outside, but as someone moving through the same world, bringing insight through close observation and self-awareness. Their work teaches us to pause, examine our positions and engage with complexity — not to over simplify it.

By grounding the curatorial direction in introspection, I aim to surface what is often overlooked, offering visitors a slower, more meaningful way of seeing. Through these intimate narratives, collective themes emerge — reminding us that understanding the world begins with understanding ourselves.”

Interview

1. Your curatorial statement highlights self-inquiry as central to your programming. Why do you believe that understanding the self is key to understanding the world?
Because all perception starts with the individual. An artist can’t speak honestly about culture, society or history without first examining their own position within it. The more personal the work, the more universal it often becomes.

2. How do you choose the artists you work with?
I look for depth — artists who aren’t performing trends but are engaged in long-term explorations. Their work may look quiet or unassuming at first, but it holds weight because it comes from lived experience.

3. You seem to avoid spectacle. Was that a conscious decision?
Very much so. There’s already enough noise in the art world. I want to give space to artists who are not chasing visibility but are focused on process, research and reflection. The work speaks slowly and intentionally.

4. You mention personal work opening up broader social and cultural themes. Can you give an example?
One of my artists created a series based on her experiences of care giving, love, and loss within her own family. It was deeply personal, rooted in her everyday life. Viewers connected instantly — they saw their own stories in it, of relationships, memory, life. The honesty of it created a shared emotional space without needing to explain too much.

5. How does environmental concern fit into your curatorial vision?
Many of my artists are not overtly “eco-artists” but their work speaks to a sensitivity towards land, materials and rhythms. The personal and ecological are often intertwined — how we live, what we take, what we return.

6. Are there specific histories or voices you feel have been neglected in Indian contemporary art?
Absolutely. Under represented and marginalised communities, tribal voices still struggle for institutional space. Women’s practices are often under-contextualised. We try to shift that by foregrounding artists whose stories challenge the dominant narrative.

7. How do you view your role as a gallerist — facilitator, mediator, collaborator?
All of that, but mostly listener. My job is to protect the artist’s vision while helping it reach an audience in the right frame — intellectually, emotionally and spatially.

8. What is the biggest challenge you face in holding this kind of space?
Slowness. We work against a market that rewards novelty and speed. But depth needs time — for both making and viewing. Convincing people to slow down is still the hardest part.

9. You speak often about community and dialogue. What does that look like in practice?
We host reading groups, informal studio visits, conversations without press releases. It’s about building relationships, not just footfall. The audience isn’t passive — they’re part of the inquiry.

10. Can you tell us about an upcoming show that embodies everything we’ve discussed?
Abhijit Pathak’s Reflections of Monaco, opening 26 May, is exactly that. Created during his residency at Les Ateliers du Quai, the series captures a deeply personal shift in his practice. It reflects how place can alter perception — how the rhythms, light and textures of a new environment imprint themselves on the artist’s inner world. The works are quiet but full of clarity, balancing introspection with broader cultural observation. You see memory, identity and atmosphere woven together across paintings, photographs, works on paper and video. It’s a show about presence — about noticing — and how the self is constantly shaped by its surroundings. Everything I believe in, is visible in this body of work.

11. What do you want a visitor to take away from an exhibition or a show?
I want them to be unsettled, in a good way. To question something they thought was fixed. To see that personal stories are powerful tools for collective thinking.

12. Are there any new ventures or collaborations you’re excited about?
Yes, I am currently developing a new platform called Apsic Art. It’s focused on accessible art experiences and affordable editions, with the aim of nurturing new collectors and reaching wider audiences. While my involvement with Art Explore remains committed to in-depth, process-led practices, Apsic allows me to support emerging voices and experiment with more playful formats. It’s also a way to rethink how art circulates — not just through white cubes and fairs, but in everyday life. Both platforms are distinct and keep our ecosystem dynamic.