You cannot teach art in a room that feels like a waiting hall. Yet across India, many art schools operate in spaces that kill the urge to make anything.

Studios are often dim, cramped, and badly ventilated. The smell of turpentine lingers because there are no exhaust systems. Lighting is fluorescent and flat, making it impossible to work accurately with colour. Workstations are shared, so projects get moved or damaged. In some schools, “studio” means a converted classroom with desks pushed aside.

Workshops for sculpture, printmaking, or ceramics sit idle because the equipment is broken or obsolete. Libraries are a shelf of outdated books locked in a cupboard. Computers, if available, run on software several versions behind. When the institution can’t provide resources, students dip into their own pockets — paying for materials, renting space outside, or borrowing equipment from friends.

This neglect shapes the work. Students avoid ambitious projects because the infrastructure can’t support them. They stick to what can be made with minimal tools, which narrows the range of expression. The environment tells them: don’t aim higher than what the room allows.

Fixing this is not impossible. Public–private partnerships could fund studio upgrades. Galleries and museums could donate equipment when they upgrade. Alumni networks could pool resources for libraries and workshops. Even modest changes — better lighting, functioning ventilation, shared tool libraries — can transform how students work.

An art school’s physical space signals its respect for the discipline. If the walls are peeling and the tools are rusting, the message is clear: art is an afterthought. For Indian art education to move forward, the studio has to stop being a prison and start being a place where ideas breathe.