Artist Viraj Khanna on Making His Embroidered Works Look Like Paintings

Khanna grew up with a front-row seat to the world his work now happily examines. Having managed embroidery ateliers in West Bengal before completing an MFA at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago in 2025, Khanna is the first artist on Forbes 30 Under 30 for both India and Asia. His debut solo show, ‘Why Did I Say Yes?’ which is a satirical portrait — of the Indian wedding industrial complex — was profiled by the New York Times.

Khanna’s work sits in the collections of the Kiran Nadar Museum of Art in New Delhi, the Bunker Art Space in Miami, and the Michael and Susan Hort Collection in New York. The work itself operates on a specific kind of visual deception. Khanna works in ari embroidery, zardozi, beadwork, and pearl work, often collaborating with West Bengal artisans on pieces that read, at first glance, as paintings or digital images. The subjects are drawn from the world he knows best: private jets, Patek Philippes, Instagram grids, and the quieter performances of status that run through daily life.

Made To Appear, his first full gallery show in New York, is a two-person show alongside LA-based artist Brian Robertson. The exhibition traces its lineage to Studio d'Arte GR, founded in Venice in 1979, and has been part of the New York contemporary art scene since 2016. Made To Appear opens at GR Gallery in Tribeca on June 19 and runs through August 1. Robb Report India speaks with him ahead of the opening.

Robb Report (RR): Your embroidered works are designed to initially read as paintings or digital images. Was that perceptual deception a deliberate choice from the start?

Viraj Khanna (VK): When people first encounter the work, they often assume they are looking at paintings. To me, that speaks directly to the extraordinary skill of the craftspeople who make the work. The process has evolved through constant feedback and observation of how viewers engage with it. Over time, I became increasingly interested in creating works that are difficult to immediately categorise visually — pieces that sit somewhere between painting, photography, digital imagery, and textile. That ambiguity has become an important part of the experience.

RR: You grew up inside India's fashion elite and managed embroidery ateliers yourself. How does that insider fluency change the critique when privilege is your subject matter?

VK: The work is really about optics and self-presentation, regardless of financial background. These behaviours exist across social and economic contexts, whether someone is flying on a private jet or taking their first airline trip. What interests me is the gratification that comes from sharing experiences and constructing an image for others to see. My perspective is shaped by having grown up around these environments and later working within them professionally. That proximity allows me to observe these systems from the inside. The work reflects on how people construct identity, communicate status, and seek validation through images — drawing from experiences that are both personal and widely recognisable.

RR: You work with West Bengal artisans whose craft has been preserved across generations. What does it mean to use their labour-intensive, often invisible work to interrogate the luxury of social visibility?

VK: The work is created in close collaboration with the artisans I work with, and their contributions are always acknowledged. These crafts embody generations of accumulated knowledge and skill, yet hand embroidery is becoming increasingly difficult to sustain as fewer people enter the profession. For me, using embroidery is not simply about preserving a craft — it is also about bringing it into contemporary conversations and introducing it to new audiences. Viewers often encounter an image first and only later realise the complexity of the process behind it. I am interested in that shift in perception and in the broader questions it raises about what we notice, what we value, and whose contributions become visible.

RR: You went from Business Administration at USC to an MFA at SAIC. How did running the commercial side of embroidery production actually sharpen your artistic instincts?

VK: Managing embroidery production gave me a practical understanding of materials, techniques, and labour. Pricing work required me to understand how much time different processes took and what materials they involved. Through that experience, I developed a visual and technical understanding of which techniques are particularly intricate or difficult to replicate. That knowledge has made me much more conscious of craftsmanship and allows me to approach the medium with a deeper appreciation of its possibilities and constraints.

RR: You are the first artist on Forbes 30 Under 30 for both India and Asia, yet your work critiques cycles of online validation. How do you hold that contradiction?

VK: I have always been open about the fact that I am part of the very systems my work examines. During a show at the India Art Fair with Kalakriti Art Gallery, I had a work that was a screenshot of my Instagram profile — my bio, my follower count, the Forbes accreditation, all the factors through which people make assumptions about me. Online platforms have played a significant role in my career. Many of my exhibitions, sales, and gallery relationships originated through Instagram. I do not see that as a contradiction so much as a reality of the moment we are living in. The work does not come from outside these systems. It comes from participating in them while reflecting on their effects. That tension is what interests me most.

RR: Made To Appear strips away the specific cultural arenas — Indian weddings, social media compulsion — that anchored your earlier series. What shifted in the work when you removed those containers?

VK: In many ways, this exhibition is still about social media and the pressures of self-presentation. What has changed is that the work is no longer tied to a specific cultural setting. It focuses instead on behaviours and desires that feel more universal — the ways people construct images of themselves and communicate status, success, or aspiration through what they choose to share.

RR: The collectors buying work that critiques conspicuous consumption are often its very subjects. Does that irony fuel the work or undermine it?

VK: The irony definitely fuels the work. People often connect with the pieces because they recognise aspects of their own experiences in them. Someone might relate directly to a work featuring a Patek Philippe because they own one, or connect with a piece like The Joy Ride because it reflects a hobby they share. That sense of recognition creates engagement rather than resistance. I am interested in what happens when viewers see themselves reflected in the work and begin to consider their own relationship to the systems being explored.

RR: This is your first full gallery show in New York. Did the city change what you made?

VK: Honestly, yes. Since my presentation with Rajiv Menon Contemporary at Untitled in Miami, I have noticed that viewers are particularly drawn to the beadwork, or moti work, more than some of the other techniques I use. I observed something similar during my time at SAIC and again at an open house hosted by Michael and Susan Hort in New York. As a result, this body of work incorporates significantly more beadwork and pearl work than my previous series, while still drawing on a broader range of embroidery techniques.

'Made To Appear' is on view at GR Gallery, 116 Chambers Street, Tribeca, New York, from June 19 to August 1, 2026.