Sagarika Sundaram’s Vibrant Felt Worlds
From a distance, Sagarika Sundaram’s expansive works resemble dynamic abstract paintings—pulsing with orange, yellow, red, and teal, their movement and chaos echoing the spirit of Jackson Pollock. But walk a little closer, and you will find there is no paint in sight. These vibrant swirls and textures are not brushstrokes but meticulously felted wool, shaped and layered by hand over weeks and sometimes months. For Sundaram, a 38-year-old artist based in New York, wool is not just a material—it is the heart and soul of her practice.
Her art pieces—often large, undulating, and airborne—exude a primal energy. Their fantastical forms suggest otherworldly creatures or surreal landscapes, yet they radiate a strange friendliness, like alien beings you would not mind sharing a conversation with. The power of her work stems from its origin: the ancient, hands-on process of felt-making. In her light-filled studio at Silver Art Projects, overlooking the Hudson River, Sundaram dyes raw sheep’s wool, tears it into delicate tufts, and layers them in complex compositions. The fibre is then soaked in soapy water, rubbed, and compressed to bond the layers into a single, unified textile.
She approaches each artwork with a ritualistic dedication. Often barefoot, Sundaram steps onto the felt laid across wide tables, crouching down to adjust, layer, and coax the material into its final form. Her process is physical, repetitive, and meditative—an act of building, rather than merely assembling. “It’s like discovering a secret,” she says, a sentiment that began when she first sliced open a felt orb she made in 2017 and found rings of colour nestled within.
Born in Kolkata, Sundaram’s earliest memories of textiles are deeply personal—watching her grandmother fold saris or her father tie his veshti. Her first experiments with fabric began at age 11 at Rishi Valley School in Andhra Pradesh, where she was introduced to batik. But it was not until much later, while studying in London, that she fell in love with felt. That palm-sized felt orb was the beginning of a new artistic language.
Now, she continues to explore this medium through ever more complex creations. Her works can take three to seven weeks to complete, depending on their intricacy. Sometimes the concept emerges organically; other times it’s dictated by the colours she has on hand. “I might have only three colours I have dyed that I can use, and that determines a very tight palette,” she explains.
Her studio’s 12-foot ceilings allow her to dream big. One such dream, Source, is a massive, earthy brown composition streaked with ivory veins and cayenne blotches. Inspired by a wind-borne drumstick seed she saw as a student at Rishi Valley, it was the centrepiece of her recent solo show, Polyphony, at Nature Morte in Delhi. Towering and immersive, Source feels less like a textile and more like an environment.
Despite the raw, untamed appearance of her works, her process is highly disciplined. At home, she dyes four kilos of wool a day, carefully noting colour swatches and recipes in a dedicated journal. “Dyeing is precise and methodical,” she says, likening it to cooking: “It’s about building flavour through colour.” She pulls out a shade card—an array of wool ringlets in burnt ochre, aubergine, and rust. “A true test of a dyer,” she adds, “is not whether you can make colour, but if you can make the same colour twice.”
Never one to be boxed into a single medium, Sundaram has recently begun working with glass mosaic tiles. These tiny chips translate the textures and patterns of her felted worlds into a harder, glinting form. “The mosaics mark a shift in the work—from soft to hard,” she says.
And she is far from finished. “Maybe once I burn through all the colour I have, I’ll do a show that’s all white,” she muses.
In Sagarika Sundaram’s universe, wool becomes more than fibre—it is a living, breathing element of transformation. Through colour, texture, and sheer persistence, she sculpts worlds that are both alien and deeply human—playful, powerful, and profoundly felt.
