CHENNAI: Rekha Vijayashankar’s day begins with the bustling honks of Besant Nagar and moves into the quaint, serene environment of DakshinaChitra Museum, where time seems to slow down and stories linger in every courtyard. Rekha began her journey far from the spotlight. She wasn’t chasing frames or building a portfolio; she was shelving books as an assistant librarian, surrounded by histories of craft, culture and community. But somewhere between those pages and pathways, something shifted.
“It was all trial and error,” she shares, adding that she loves the process. Rekha’s photographs feel unhurried and deeply personal. There is no sense of intrusion, only presence. A temple ritual unfolding at dawn, an artisan immersed in their craft, or a fleeting glance that tells an entire story, she captures them with quiet empathy. While she motivated herself, it was the appreciation from friends and people at the museum that encouraged her to delve deeper into the art of framing and freezing moments.
With practice, Rekha became adept at capturing the perfect shot within the limitations of film. “I trained myself by reading photography books and art and culture magazines to observe how established photographers frame their shots and use angles,” she says. Like many beginners, the 46-year-old initially hesitated to take photos in crowded places, which affected her output.
“It was Deborah ma’am who pushed me to break that barrier and go to any extent to get that one desirable shot,” she adds.
The arrival of the digital camera gave wings to Rekha, allowing her to travel across the country to capture temple festivals, crafts, artisans, and everyday life. She enrolled in the Kanavu Fellowship in 2021, where she refined her skills and learned new nuances of photography. Over the years, her work has grown alongside the spaces and people she documents. It carries a sense of trust built over time, allowing her to move closer without disrupting the moment. Her frames are honest.
Rekha comes from a time when women were expected to remain within the confines of their homes and her parents were no exception. “My sole focus was to document as many moments as possible and do meaningful work for society. Though I went against my family’s wishes, the hearty smiles of artisans make it all worthwhile,” she says. The photographer also prints and gifts her pictures to artisans and craftsmen. “That is the recognition they yearn for. With the fastpaced nature of life today, people rarely take the time to appreciate traditional art, craft, and dance. These artisans work very hard, often despite financial constraints, to carry their art forward to the next generation,” she notes.
One of her notable works is a project on the Gwillim Sisters for McGill University, Canada. “In the 1800s, two sisters came to our state to paint our traditions and culture. To archive their work, the university wanted a woman photographer to recreate similar images. I captured visuals that reflected ‘then and now,’ showing how we have evolved as a society,” Rekha explains, calling it one of her most challenging yet fulfilling projects.
Her ultimate goal is to document culture, folk art, traditions and craft, and pass them on to future generations. “My pictures narrate stories. The raw expressions and intense gazes I capture often carry the unspoken struggles of these artisans. Even when I am no longer around, I hope my images continue to make an impact,” she says.
Her 25-year journey in photography has taught her many lessons, most importantly resilience and the value of freedom. “We have only one life. Women should not compromise on their dreams and must strive for financial independence to lead the life they envision,” affirms the photographer, whose work also includes a project connecting women with the five elements of nature.
Rekha’s journey may not be dramatic, but it is deeply meaningful, shaped by patience, observation, honesty and a genuine love for the worlds she continues to document.