What do we, as artists, do when faced with a deep inner call—a call to create something that tradition appears to have yet to accommodate, while also a call that feels like an enormous responsibility? You change the paradigm.
Here’s the story of one such woman. A torch-bearer for many.
Dr. Sarika Singh continues to trail blaze as a woman and a non-Tibetan excelling in a field often dominated by Tibetan men. Driven by an unwavering ambition to preserve art at risk of fading into obscurity, I had the absolute pleasure and honor of conversing with Sarika Singh—a woman whose voice is filled with passionate drive and joy.
Sarika is nothing short of remarkable. A PhD-holding master thangka painter, she is redefining patriarchal prejudices. She not only creates numerous stunning thangka masterpieces but also teaches, researches, has given TED talks and interviews (including with BDG contributor Rebecca Wong), has raised a family, and has undertaken the monumental task of building not only a home but an entire museum. And her achievements don’t end there: she has traced the roots of Buddhism through Tara in ways that many scholars have overlooked.
Born in the mid-1970s and raised in New Delhi, Sarika’s life flowed on the currents of societal expectations. She studied medicine without feeling the deep calling, yet was already excelling in art. However, as in many societies, art was rarely considered a viable or practical career, yet each time Sarika closed her eyes, she saw thangkas. Her father, a Buddhist practitioner, would take her to listen to teachings of His Holiness the Dalai Lama, and introduced Buddhism to their entire family. It was during these moments that Sarika could feel the unofficial marriage of art and spirituality exchanging rings within her heart.
Sarika studied at the prestigious Lady Shri Ram College for Women, and later received a scholarship from the Dalai Lama Foundation and was selected to spend a month’s cultural exchange at a nunnery in Dharamsala. “What a beautiful combination” she beams. “Art, spirituality, and renunciation!” It was here, through the Foundation for Universal Responsibility of His Holiness the Dalai Lama, that she participated in the Gurukul program, in which students had the chance to meet His Holiness, who would encourage their innate responsibility for preserving ancient culture, including Buddhism. For Sarika, this was a door being thrown wide open, with a neon sign saying: “Life – this way!”
During the Gurukul program, Sarika had an opportunity to ask His Holiness about the dearth of female thangka artists—even at renowned institutions such as Norbulingka. The Dalai Lama’s response was simple yet empowering: “Well, there is no restriction. If you want to, you can learn.” Encouraged by His Holiness, and with the support of the foundation and his office, Sarika was able to formally study at the Norbulingka Institute, a chapter of her life that, despite the mild challenges of being the only woman in the program, she recalls with incredible fondness.
As she immersed herself in her studies, Sarika began formulating three ambitious life goals: first, she envisioned creating a space where anyone, regardless of background, could learn to paint; second, she aspired to make it easier for women to enroll and pursue this sacred art form; and third, she sought to establish a more structured and comprehensive program, in contrast to the relatively “organic” one she was part of at the time.
From that seed grew something quite remarkable, but not before there had been that all-too-familiar feeling of pressure that those who are anomalous in their field will recognize. Women in a man’s world are typically scrutinized and patronized far more than men; there is no room to make mistakes. Sarika is also an Indian woman doing Tibetan art.
Fresh from her studies, Sarika married Norbulingka’s assistant master thangka painter, Master Locho, and following the death of their beloved teacher, Master Tenpa Choephel, came a feeling of even greater responsibility in the preservation of the tradition. In fact, she felt a responsibility for humanity. After her bachelor’s degree, Sarika continued, with her husband, studying thangka painting for 17 years, which was followed by a master’s degree in Buddhist and Tibetan Studies. During this period, she realized that the textbooks on thangka painting were only available in Tibetan, so she invested a decade creating a new book in English, for the world.
And here’s the thing: like many artists, Sarika knew her craft, but it dawned on her that she knew little about what she was actually painting. She decided to knuckle down on the information side, the 2,300-year history, the journey of Buddhism from India to Tibet and back to India that was painted on the walls. Filling in missing links and challenging data through the science that they had access to, this became the subject of Sarika’s doctoral thesis. She also had the realization that thangka painters rarely wrote the books themselves; these studies were written by scholars and academics rather than those who lived the art.
Around this time, Sarika and her husband closed themselves off from the world. Having traveled extensively, now was the time to focus their inner journey. For 20 years. They created a museum that includes a gallery to exhibit their 45 thangkas and showcase this journey from India to Tibet and back to India through paintings of Green Tara. Sarika and her husband have recreated as thangkas vanishing paintings from places such as the Ajanta Caves—possibly the earliest renditions of Buddhist art. But after all these iterations of Tara, which Tara would be next?
By remaining a zealot to what has been, we effectively kill something that has always evolved, which makes no sense at all. Art evolves, art reflects, and art shines a light. Sarika asked her husband to create a new Tara for the world. This, too, is in their gallery, titled Dharamsala Tara. They also created a school where students could enroll for anywhere from an hour to several years, and leave transformed.
Sarika changed the paradigm.
As Sarika began discussing this next part, my excitement grew. This concept has been a part of my own research for many years, coming from both a metaphysical/quantum and neurological angle.
Most of the ancient paintings lacked an artist’s signature—as if the artist was merely a conduit. Sarika postulated that sacred artists may actually be mediums for deities to become seen: “What is the purpose of the deities coming into this world or the artist bringing them into this world?” She asks. “The Buddha mentioned 10 Paramitas: love, kindness, compassion, perseverance, truthfulness, morality, wisdom, determination, equanimity, and generosity. So the deities are nothing but an embodiment of these qualities.
“When we look upon them, when we meditate on them, when we draw them, we cultivate these qualities. And when we are filled with these qualities, we become one with the deity. We become enlightened. The artist has such an important responsibility, not only cultivating these qualities, not only for himself or herself, but also for humanity. These deities have to be created and brought into this world without a[n ego] self, for the benefit of mankind.”
This leaves her with a lingering question: “Does the artist create the deity or does the deity create the artist?”
And even if we’re not grounding spirit through the ether, we are surely embodying attributes that can help heal ourselves and in turn, the world. And that’s no small legacy.
For anyone interested in Sarika’s work, or in studying at the institute, visit livingbuddhistart.com.
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