Abhishek Tuiwala is a conceptual sculptor whose practice examines identity, labor, and social structures through materials that carry cultural and personal associations. His work spans sculpture and large scale installations, and he is currently developing installations using elastic strips that explore adaptability and behavioral flexibility. He is the recipient of the New Jersey State Council on the Arts Fellowship, the Rema Hort Mann Artist Community Engagement Grant, the Stutzman Foundation Award for Sculpture, and awards from the Bombay Art Society and the Hyderabad Art Society.
Welcome back, Abhishek, and thank you for joining us again. We previously interviewed you in 2024 about your artistic practice and creative journey. Looking back, how has your work evolved, and have any new perspectives or priorities emerged since then?
The last couple of years have shifted my practice in a significant way. While I still think deeply about migration, identity, and systems of power, I have become much more interested in how materials themselves can embody those ideas rather than simply illustrate them.
Recently, I have been working extensively with elastic materials alongside metal, wood, marble, and graphite. My father manufactures elastic in Surat, India, and spending time inside his factory completely changed how I understood the material. I stopped seeing elastic as something functional and began thinking of it as a metaphor for human behavior. It stretches, adapts, carries weight, and constantly negotiates pressure without permanently losing its identity. Those qualities resonate strongly with immigrant experiences, social expectations, and the compromises we all make while navigating institutions and society.
My sculptures are becoming less about isolated objects and more about relationships between force, tension, suspension, and balance. I’m increasingly interested in building situations rather than representations. Instead of asking viewers to recognize a symbol, I want them to physically experience instability, resistance, or vulnerability through the work itself.
Another important shift has been slowing down. Earlier I often searched for the perfect metaphor. Today I spend much more time listening to the material, allowing its physical properties to guide the conceptual direction. That dialogue between material and idea has become central to my practice.
In addition to your own artistic practice, you have been an active member of the Li Tang Community network. How has engaging with artists from diverse backgrounds shaped your understanding of creativity, community, and artistic growth?
Being part of Li Tang Community has expanded my understanding of what an artistic community can be. It isn’t simply a platform for exhibiting work. It is a space where artists openly exchange ideas, share opportunities, discuss failures, and challenge each other’s assumptions.
Working alongside artists from different countries, disciplines, and cultural backgrounds has reminded me that there is no single way to build an artistic practice. Everyone arrives with different histories, resources, and methods, yet many of us are asking similar questions about belonging, visibility, and sustainability.
Serving on the team has also changed my perspective because I now experience the art world from both sides. As an artist, I think about making work. As a community member, I think about creating opportunities for others, organizing open calls, inviting curators, and building conversations that continue beyond exhibitions.
That experience has made me more generous as an artist. I believe supporting another artist’s career does not diminish your own. A healthy community grows when people celebrate each other’s successes instead of treating every opportunity as a competition.
Through your experiences as both an artist and community member, what are some common challenges you see emerging artists face today, and what approaches have you found most helpful for navigating them?
One challenge I see repeatedly is the pressure to become visible as quickly as possible. Social media often rewards speed and consistency, while meaningful artistic development requires patience, experimentation, and sometimes long periods of uncertainty.
Another challenge is balancing artistic integrity with financial realities. Many emerging artists feel they must constantly produce work that is immediately understandable or commercially successful. That pressure can gradually disconnect artists from the questions that originally motivated their practice.
What has helped me most is investing in long-term relationships rather than short-term visibility. Studio visits, conversations with peers, mentors, curators, and writers have influenced my work far more than chasing algorithms.I also think artists should allow themselves the freedom to evolve. We often feel pressure to repeat what has worked before, but growth usually happens when we become comfortable leaving familiar territory behind. Every significant shift in my practice has started with uncertainty.
As a guest juror for Third Space Is a Verb, what qualities or approaches are you most excited to encounter in this year’s submissions?
What excites me most is work that takes genuine risks.
The title Third Space Is a Verb suggests that identity is not a fixed place but an ongoing process of negotiation, movement, and transformation. I’m less interested in artwork that simply illustrates cultural identity and more interested in artists who use material, form, process, or language to complicate our understanding of it.
I hope to see work that surprises me, challenges familiar narratives, or approaches personal experiences through unexpected formal decisions. Strong work doesn’t need to provide answers. Sometimes the most compelling artworks leave space for ambiguity and invite viewers into an active conversation.
Most importantly, I hope to encounter work that feels necessary. You can usually sense when an artist has made something because they genuinely needed to explore a question rather than respond to current trends.
Community has long been a core value of Li Tang Community. What does a healthy and supportive creative community look like to you, and what role can artists play in helping one another grow?
A healthy creative community is built on trust, generosity, and honest dialogue.
Support does not always mean praise. Sometimes the most valuable contribution is thoughtful critique that helps someone strengthen their work. Artists need spaces where they can discuss unfinished ideas without feeling that everything must already be polished or successful.
I also believe communities become stronger when knowledge is shared openly. Information about grants, residencies, exhibitions, or professional experiences should circulate rather than remain exclusive. Many opportunities exist because another artist was willing to share them.
As artists, we also have a responsibility to make the path slightly easier for those coming after us. Whether that means introducing someone to a curator, organizing studio visits, or simply encouraging another artist during a difficult period, these small acts collectively shape a healthier ecosystem.
As an artist and Li Tang Community team member, what advice would you offer fellow Asian diaspora artists seeking to build meaningful careers and lasting connections?
Don’t feel pressured to fit into a predetermined narrative about what an Asian diaspora artist should make.
Our experiences are incredibly diverse, and that diversity should be reflected in the work. Your cultural background is important, but it doesn’t have to become the only lens through which your practice is understood.
Focus on building a rigorous body of work first. Opportunities become much more meaningful when they are supported by a strong practice. Invest time in developing relationships with artists, curators, writers, and institutions that genuinely engage with your ideas rather than simply expanding your network.
Finally, remember that careers are built over decades, not seasons. The art world moves in cycles, but curiosity, consistency, and generosity have lasting value. Continue making work that challenges you, remain open to learning, and contribute to the communities that have supported your own journey. Those relationships often become just as important as the exhibitions themselves.
text & photo courtesy of Abhishek Tuiwala
- Website: https://www.abhishektuiwala.com
- Instagram: @abhishek.tuiwala
