Sisters of the Moon
Award-winning artist Poulomi Basu talks periods, power and protest in a new commission for WaterAid.
As an ecofeminist, Poulomi Basu minces no words, calling out injustices while highlighting the strength and energy within women and girls as a force for change.
Sexism, violence against women, banishing people when they’re on their period – these and much more have powered Poulomi’s art, forcing audiences to face the disparities that continue to afflict women and girls.
Her latest photo series, Sisters of the Moon, makes the political personal. Set in a dystopian fairytale landscape, Poulomi uses dramatic self-portraits – all shot in Iceland – to show how lack of clean water and toilets affects the power and potential of women and girls.
Below, she reflects on her relationship with WaterAid and the impact it’s had on her work, past and present.
My relationship with WaterAid goes back a long time, since 2013, when I started working on Blood Speaks. We did the To Be a Girl campaign, which involved stories of women and girls in Nepal and India, their hygiene rights, sanitation and the dignity of women, especially Dalit women who have no access to sanitation therefore have no access to dignity, wellbeing and education.
The artist’s commission [WaterAid's 10x10 commission marking the 10th anniversary of water as a human right, pictured] was great because I did it in my own house, in my own bathtub. That kind of inspired Sisters of the Moon and helped me accept myself and my body as mine, and made it ok for me to use my gaze and my body to tell larger stories about gender politics, the water crisis and climate change.
WaterAid has been a huge ally in my artistic activist practice. A relationship is very important if you want to form powerful coalitions to see meaningful change in our delicate world.
The work I am doing with WaterAid now is a natural extension of my own practice.
Patriarchy and violence in the home
All my work comes from personal lived experiences. I grew up in a very patriarchal, violent home. Both my mother and grandmother were child brides and then became very young widows.
My mum’s access to education stopped when she was 17 and I saw how that cut her potential in life. I saw this entanglement between a girl turning into a woman, her lack of rights to education and early marriage.
When my dad died I was 17 years old. I left home after finishing my education. My mother told me to live a life of choices. It became something I was drawn to ever since – women and how they challenged the roles in society, and how they were pushed into extreme circumstances. Then how our bodies are constantly in battle and at the foreground of a battle and how the personal is political.
Ecofeminism and intersecting identities
That became my map to work on – large, under-reported stories that encompass not only gender roles and gender stories but also how it intersects with the water crisis, environmental destruction and climate justice. Especially how racial justice is climate justice and that is also linked to education and the water crisis. At the forefront of this water crisis are the black, the brown and the indigenous bodies who bear the biggest cost.
Sisters of the Moon is an ecofeminist tale where I feel the future of the planet is tied to the full realisation of women’s elemental rights to water and the earth. It imagines a future dystopia, made barren by the rejection of women’s magic. I wanted to show what becomes of the world when women are oppressed. Without their magic, their spark, the world withers and dies.
For me, each artwork demonstrates and embodies the tension between the situation for girls and women as it is and how it could be, thereby celebrating their strength.
Self-portraits on the frontlines
In India alone, 10 million girls leave school every year as soon as their period starts, so keeping girls in school for me through this work means so much more than education.
It means fewer child brides, fewer infant deaths. It means more women taking charge of their lives, their livelihoods, their households, their communities. It means women occupying all spaces where decisions are being made.
It means less of a burning world and death of our forests. The impact is clear – better leaders means a better world.
I use my own gaze and my own body on the frontline of this story to tell a more fictional story of the real problems women face. I choose to use the authenticity of my voice and my body to reclaim the narrative of women from the majority world, not as passive victims, but as women of power and agency.
My whole family were women of child brides and child widows. I’ve come from a deeply misogynistic and patriarchal society. I come from Bengal and Bengal is sinking. I’m on the frontline.
This is my story.
Images: 1. Poulomi embodies the great cosmic mother, with lack of access to clean water as the greatest burden that women and girls face in the Global South. One in ten people don't have water close to their homes, and women and girls must collect water in four out of five households. 2. A woman walks towards what could be a chaupadi hut where people in parts of Nepal are sent to isolate during their period. In an act of defiance the hut is on fire. Costume by Aziz Rebar. 3. Women and girls often have to walk long distances, barefoot, across tough terrain to collect water for their families which means many girls miss out on school or drop out altogether. Costume by Aziz Rebar. 4. Inspired by the story of a girl who dropped out of school because of menstrual taboos. In this fictional piece the bleeding woman is a superhero who embraces her menstruation. Costume by Jivomir Domoustchiev. All images WaterAid/Poulomi Basu
Patriarchy and violence in the home
All my work comes from personal lived experiences. I grew up in a very patriarchal, violent home. Both my mother and grandmother were child brides and then became very young widows.
My mum’s access to education stopped when she was 17 and I saw how that cut her potential in life. I saw this entanglement between a girl turning into a woman, her lack of rights to education and early marriage.
When my dad died I was 17 years old. I left home after finishing my education. My mother told me to live a life of choices. It became something I was drawn to ever since – women and how they challenged the roles in society, and how they were pushed into extreme circumstances. Then how our bodies are constantly in battle and at the foreground of a battle and how the personal is political.
Ecofeminism and intersecting identities
That became my map to work on – large, under-reported stories that encompass not only gender roles and gender stories but also how it intersects with the water crisis, environmental destruction and climate justice. Especially how racial justice is climate justice and that is also linked to education and the water crisis. At the forefront of this water crisis are the black, the brown and the indigenous bodies who bear the biggest cost.
Sisters of the Moon is an ecofeminist tale where I feel the future of the planet is tied to the full realisation of women’s elemental rights to water and the earth. It imagines a future dystopia, made barren by the rejection of women’s magic. I wanted to show what becomes of the world when women are oppressed. Without their magic, their spark, the world withers and dies.
For me, each artwork demonstrates and embodies the tension between the situation for girls and women as it is and how it could be, thereby celebrating their strength.
Self-portraits on the frontlines
In India alone, 10 million girls leave school every year as soon as their period starts, so keeping girls in school for me through this work means so much more than education.
It means fewer child brides, fewer infant deaths. It means more women taking charge of their lives, their livelihoods, their households, their communities. It means women occupying all spaces where decisions are being made.
It means less of a burning world and death of our forests. The impact is clear – better leaders means a better world.
I use my own gaze and my own body on the frontline of this story to tell a more fictional story of the real problems women face. I choose to use the authenticity of my voice and my body to reclaim the narrative of women from the majority world, not as passive victims, but as women of power and agency.
My whole family were women of child brides and child widows. I’ve come from a deeply misogynistic and patriarchal society. I come from Bengal and Bengal is sinking. I’m on the frontline.
This is my story.
A message from Poulomi to girls in Nepal
Schoolgirls Puja and Sandhya shared how dirty toilets in their school in Nepal, and damaging beliefs around periods, are preventing girls from reaching their potential. Poulomi had this message for them.
It’s important for school children to come together to protest and raise their voices… to say that you demand a toilet, and you demand a clean education, and you demand sanitary towels in your village… and in your schools … because your future… lies in … having a proper education.