Theatre at the Table: Eeshaan Kashyap on Turning Kadari Art Gallery into a Maximalist Stage

On February 26, Kadari Art Gallery in Hyderabad slipped into something theatrical. Bright blue fibreglass animals appeared across the space like curious witnesses—perched on tables, hovering near chairs, watching from corners. At the centre stood a table arranged like a still-life: bread sculpted into improbable forms, a small mountain of cheese, edible props, and table jewellery placed with intent. Real food hid in plain sight, daring you to tell the difference. Before I had fully stepped inside, I was already looking closer.

From February 26 to 28, the gallery became a stage for Eeshaan Kashyap—chef, food and beverage curator, and now, firmly, artist—who chose this setting to present Tablescape by Eeshaan. It felt less like a launch and more like stepping into his mind: a reminder that a table can hold as much narrative as a canvas.

Eeshaan Kashyap, a Maximalist at Work

The theatrics continued indoors. A sharp pink greeted me at the entrance—on the walls and on Kashyap’s shirt. Black and white objects, flashes of red and brushed gold cut through the colour. “I didn’t want to shy away from colour. I wanted to be unapologetic about it,” he said.

Pink gave way to blue, then red, then yellow, each room shifting mood but not momentum. “We created a mise-en-scène across rooms in pink, purple, yellow, blue, and red,” he explained.

“This is our debut in Hyderabad,” he added, surveying the space. “The homes here are much larger. The scale gives me freedom. I’m a maximalist — and they love texture, colour, semi-precious stones, drama.”

There were nearly 4,000 pieces—tableware, objects, textiles, carpets—yet the display never tipped into chaos. Handmade ceramics sat beside metal work to resemble tie-and-dye. Kantha appeared reimagined in steel thread. Knitting was attempted without fabric. Tiny spoons rested near plates that refused symmetry. Bowls tilted, vases rose asymmetrically, candle stands leaned sculpturally. Large woven textiles claimed entire walls.

“I’ve been playing with geometry, pattern, texture — not sticking to one format,” he said. “I want people to mix and match, not stick to things that are perfectly aligned.”

Textiles anchored the collection—Indonesian batiks, embroidered Palampur, chintz—scaled for expansive rooms. “Textiles have been a big highlight this time,” he noted.

Metal, too, took on a new character. Woven baskets shimmered like cane until you realised they were steel. “Weaving in metal is something we’re exploring deeply,” he said. “It’s like chatai work — the skill set is the same, but the material changes.” Artisans accustomed to cane are now adapting their hands to metal. “There are challenges,” he admitted, “but that’s where the excitement is.”

A Collaboration Rooted in Instinct

The Hyderabad chapter began with Maithili Ahluwalia, lifestyle entrepreneur and founder of Bungalow Eight in Mumbai, long known for spotting talent before it hardens into a trend.

She first noticed Kashyap during the pandemic. “There were two things that stood out to me. One was the whimsical nature of him. And the other was that this was something quite distinctive. Very different. The idea of seeing somebody who has a unique voice — that stayed with me.”

Seeing the work in person sealed it. “I hadn’t seen a designer work in so many materials,” she said. “There was a certain riskiness and unpredictability. That’s a key ingredient of a designer.”

Why Hyderabad was the Perfect Stage

“When we decided to look at Hyderabad, I felt we should bring together people who represent the changing landscape of the city,” Ahluwalia said. “We needed local partners who understand its texture and nuance.”

Those partners included Nitya Reddy, marketing director at Signature Estates, and Supraja Rao, interior designer and founder of Kadari Art Gallery, who started Hyderabad’s first private art gallery in the early ’90s.

“For me, doing design shows is a natural extension,” Rao said. “As an interior designer who runs a gallery, that’s what I’ve been doing for three decades.”

Hyderabad’s evolution has been gradual but decisive. “People are so proud of their homes,” Reddy told me. “They spend so much on a villa. And they always ask, ‘Who do you recommend for decor?’ They don’t want the obvious. They want something different.”

Rao puts it in perspective. “South Indians have never been much about showing their wealth,” she said. “People first started spending on cars, watches, designer brands, and elaborate weddings. Then it spills into homes — Italian marble, German lighting. Art comes on top of that.”

That layering is now visible. Legacy wealth has met global exposure. Homes are larger, conversations sharper, appetites more assured. For someone like Kashyap—whose work sits between craft, theatre, and design—Hyderabad offers scale and curiosity in equal measure.