Poonam Khanna
Poonam Khanna is an emerging Toronto-based artist working primarily in acrylic. She likes to paint scenes of everyday life but from a new perspective and is fascinated by the effect rain can have on a landscape, especially when seen through glass. The rain blurs the lines between objects, and many things start melting into one another. Reflections on the glass also become a part of the landscape, and sometimes the raindrops contain their own mini landscapes, transforming how we see.
When it rains, Poonam often heads out to take pictures through glass—car windows, bus shelters, and even a piece of glass from an old frame. Her paintings rely on soft edges and a vibrant color ground.
poonamkhanna.ca
Can you describe the core themes and emotions you explore in your current body of work?
Climate change is leading to increased precipitation in some areas. But this doesn’t mean more steady periods of rain distributed evenly across time. Instead, it means when the rain does come, it is often more fierce and intense than before. I explore the impact of this intensifying storm on the day-to-day lives of people in the city and elsewhere.
For drivers, cyclists, and pedestrians, it means a more blurry and dangerous commute as they weave in and out of traffic with reduced visibility. I explore themes of resilience—of being undeterred from one’s purpose despite obstacles. And indeed, not only is there a sense of determination, but also a sense of adventure.
I hope to encourage people to see things in a new way—yes, rainy days can be dreary, but they can also be beautiful. Much as the environment erodes, the rain blurs the lines between objects, and many things start melting into one another. Delineations are no longer clear, and edges are softened. Car headlights glow on the pavement and sparkle in the raindrops. The scene can be quite stunning. It is a world of reduced visibility, but one that I hope can open our eyes.
Finally, I also hope to evoke a sense of warmth and coziness, as the perspective of the viewer is on the other side of the glass.
How does your creative process unfold from concept to completion?
My process begins by capturing compelling reference photos. When it rains, I head out to take pictures through various kinds of glass, including car windows, bus shelters, and a piece of glass from an old frame that I call my portable window. I get into the back of Ubers, hop on buses and streetcars, and go for walks to take pictures. These different types of glass each offer me a different perspective. My “portable window,” for example, puts me right on the sidewalk and up close to pedestrians and cyclists, whereas city buses have a layer of grime on them that just adds a wonderful texture to my paintings.
I've also learned that light rain doesn't make for good pictures, as these days don't have the same atmospheric presence as days when it pours.
These images form the starting point of my paintings, which rely on vibrant color grounds and soft edges. Often, I start with a red underpainting, but sometimes, as I paint, I wipe excess paint on a piece of canvas and then end up with a really colorful background that I paint on. I let this red or color mosaic shine through in my paintings.
Many people ask how I make the raindrops so realistic. This is partially about the light, shadow, mid-tones, and highlights in the raindrops, but really it begins with the background. It is about using soft and lost edges, as well as using lots of neutrals to capture the essence of the day. The soft edges are not easy to achieve, as I paint with acrylics, which, of course, dry fast.
The raindrops are typically last—though sometimes a raindrop is so integral to a painting, it is painted at the same time as the background.
What inspires you most outside of the visual arts, and how does it influence your work?
I love to travel and always find it so inspiring. Being taken out of my daily life where I’m caught in the hustle and bustle and, for a short moment in time, living life just to observe and experience new things is invigorating. There’s nothing like stepping away to give yourself a new perspective. It’s an opportunity to observe the differences and similarities between various cultures, head out to see wonders built hundreds of years ago, go out for hikes in awe-inspiring landscapes, and experience new foods and customs.
Being abroad makes me relook at my own city, Toronto, with fresh eyes and encourages me to keep exploring new areas of the city, including when it rains.
I'm also one of the few people who actually gets excited when it rains when I'm on vacation. Thankfully, my husband is understanding when I excitedly ask to jump in an Uber or on a bus on such occasions so I can get some shots.
How do you navigate the balance between personal expression and the commercial aspects of your career?
This is something I used to really worry about, particularly with works in which I took chances. I was afraid no one would understand or appreciate the moments or pieces in which I went out on a limb. But the great thing about putting your work out there is learning that it’s those pieces or parts of a painting that people responded to most.
Expressing yourself is never easy—it leaves you vulnerable. But when you take that risk, you learn that others respond. I think if I were to merely do work that I thought people would respond to rather than just let paintings flow the way they want to, my work would be boring and of no commercial value.
I’m not saying I don’t respond when people do show an interest in a painting—it energizes you and does influence your choice to do more of that type of painting. But, at the same time, I’ve sometimes inexplicably sold paintings I’m not proud of. I’ve been on the verge of painting over them when they’ve sold. I have no desire to revisit those—sale or no.
What message or feeling do you hope viewers take away from experiencing your art?
As my main body of work is paintings of rain behind glass, I hope people get a sense of warmth and being at home safe, dry, and cozy on the other side of the glass. Perhaps sitting with a cup of tea or coffee enjoying a respite from the daily grind—reveling in a moment alone at home.
I also hope to show just how much beauty there can be in what we otherwise think of as a dreary day. The grey cast by the rain makes the light of headlights and streetlamps shine bright. And there is beauty there, though we may not think of rainy days like this.
I also hope they feel empowered by the resilience of those who carry on with their day despite the rain.
