Britto Arts Trust is a Dhaka-based artist-run non-profit collective, which promotes new ideas and voices from different parts of Bangladesh, through regional programmes and collaborations with international museums, art fairs and biennales. Most recently, they presented Darijkhana at the Bengal Biennale in Santiniketan in November 2024, and at the India Art Fair in New Delhi in February 2025. The project used cloth banners and a circus tent created through fabric collages, which engage with iconic symbols and socio-political themes related to labour, migration and identity. Critical Collective caught up with the team to find out more about their practice and these concerns, which have informed their previous projects as well.
Critical Collective (CC): Why do you call yourselves an ‘arts trust’ and not a ‘collective’? What have been some of the challenges of working with artists and the government in a country which has recently gone through so much political turmoil?
Britto: When we considered establishing Britto in 2002, we realized that we needed to create a sustainable platform. To fulfil this vision, we would have to employ a legal strategy to register Britto with the government of Bangladesh. Unfortunately, the government then had only two policies -- we either had to designate ourselves a Trust or a Foundation.
While Britto is officially a Trust, we have worked as a collective from the very start. In addition to six Trustees, we have a roster of regular members. Moreover, anyone associated with a project is part of its decision-making process, helping out the core working team and the collaborating artists. Britto has never had a fixed administrative setup. It has functioned and grown through the efforts of several interdisciplinary art practitioners, who have volunteered with the organization since its beginning on their own terms.
Even though we do not work closely with the government, our agreement with it prohibits us from taking part in any political activities. So, when we take on contemporary issues, we have to handle them thoughtfully by using a variety of subtle creative methods. Sometimes, of course, political unrest in the nation has disrupted our progress. Nevertheless, for the most part, there have been personal resources, support systems and networks that have helped us move forward.
CC: Much of Britto’s work sees art as infrastructure to create a public with a certain consciousness. For instance, Prantiker Prakritajon, 1Mile2 and ShohorNama have focused on local people’s engagement with their surroundings through art. What changes have you observed among those who have participated in these projects, especially in remote rural areas?
Britto: Prantiker Prakritajon (meaning ‘People Living on the Margins’) consists of a series of projects that we organized between 2009 and 2019 with indigenous communities primarily living along the borders of Bangladesh and in its coastal areas. Implementing these projects was challenging and risky. But we nonetheless managed to collaborate with marginalized populations to advocate for their rights to preserve their unique cultural identities and ways of life.
Both 1Mile2 (2009; 2014-2015) and ShohorNama (2018; 2024-2025) are projects that have been organized twice, focusing on urbanization and communities in Dhaka city. Largely held in the older part of the city, 1Mile2 explored the culture, lifestyle and heritage sites of that area. In contrast, ShohorNam had a broader perspective on the tales and realities of the city.
It is not easy to summarize the responses and changes we have seen among our subjects and participants in these different projects. None of these are long-term endeavours, involving only a particular community in a specific location. An overpopulated country, experiencing significant social, cultural, political, environmental and financial fluctuations, is not necessarily prepared to appreciate artistic accomplishments. However, we have been doing our utmost to reach out to and build bridges between artists, urban and rural residents, and ethnic groups across Bangladesh.
CC: When setting up public art installations, what determines your choice of materials and processes? Even when you work within studios and galleries, in what ways do you try and make these spaces inclusive?
Britto: The choice of materials is usually influenced by the concepts involved, the availability of resources, and the collective nature and implementation of the project. Since most of our projects are produced through collective energies, the studio becomes a home for all participants. Britto occupies a small physical space in the heart of Dhaka, which makes it convenient for everyone to join. The adjacent social kitchen and the open office space, with their warm ambience, contribute to a uniquely inclusive environment.
CC: At least three of Britto’s projects have revolved around food -- Palan, Rasad and Pakghor. What keeps bringing you back to this subject, and what are the different ways in which you have explored it?
Britto: All of these were initially created for documenta fifteen in Kassel in 2022. Leading up to this major exhibition, we prepared five projects, along with a graffiti piece on a five-storey building in collaboration with a Kassel-based graffiti studio. Common to all these works was the exploration of the significance of food in relation to the socio-cultural, political, financial and environmental crises currently facing the world.
Rasad recreates a small-town bazaar with food items made in crochet, ceramic, metal and embroidery. Its different versions have been acquired by Neue Galerie Kassel, Kunsthaus Zürich, Centraal Museum in the Netherlands, and the Tate Modern in London. Various installations of Rasad have also been displayed at Kunsthaus Zürich, Centraal Museum and at the Harewood Biennial in the UK.
Palan (Kitchen Garden) and Pakghor (Social Kitchen) actively engage with communities and the bonds created through the sharing of food. These ongoing projects utilize extended ecosystems in various locations. After documenta fifteen, we created several new installations for the Diriyah Biennale in Riyadh, Asia Now in Paris, Harinkhola (Polder 22) in the Bangladesh Sundarbans, and Bengal Shilpalay in Dhaka. Each rendition of Pakghor serves as an alternative living and dining room, holding numerous memories. A Pakghor is not only for cooking and providing meals, but also a space for presenting the stories behind the dishes.
We continue to be interested in the subject of food politics as a global language, since it becomes the means to address connectedissuessuchaswars,displacement, migration, commercialization offarming,food control, colonization, famine, hybrid cultures and inorganic lifestyles.
CC: Works like Rongbaaz and Chayachobi directly relate to memories of cinema. What are some of the themes you found common to your sources of inspiration in the cinemas of India and Bangladesh?
Britto: Rongbaaz (2019-2020) was closely linked to the memories of cinema and popular culture in Bangladesh. We had contemporary artists collaborate with rickshaw and cinema banner painters at the Britto studio. Chayachobi, on the other hand, was a public art piece. This large mural, created for documenta fifteen, involved a month-long research process, looking at seven Bangla films from Bangladesh and West Bengal. The films chosen were driven by themes such as food, food politics, war, man-made famine and social conditions. They also had strong political statements and depicted various events connected to the subcontinent’s history. They illustrated the impact of the Second World War, the 1947 Partition, the 1971 War, and more recent developments. Here too, the styles and motifs were borrowed from Bangladesh’s painted cinema banners, by a collective of 14 contemporary artists, one rickshaw painter and one cinema banner painter who worked on this mural.
CC: Returning to the question of cross-border work, can you elaborate on a project like No Man’s Land. How did the group manage to work in this difficult territory with high security, and open up larger conversations about nationalism, identity and belonging?
Britto: No Man’s Land had its fair share of challenges. Curators Mahbubur Rahman from Bangladesh and Sayantan Maitra Boka from India spent four years laying the groundwork for this initiative. We sought permission from various authorities to allow the participating artists from both countries to meet without passports or visas at the international border, referred to as “No Man’s Land.”
Fifteen artists from Bangladesh and eight from India worked in and around the areas of Bholaganj, Sylhet and the Khasi Hills. During this time, the curators communicated via cellphones and arranged to meet the participants at different fenced gates. Finally, on the last day of the trip, our Indian counterpart received permission for an in-person meeting. The two hours spent together during this long-awaited encounter were incredibly valuable for all the artists and curators. It was truly an unforgettable experience.
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