Inside Asia’s defiant photography festival, Chobi Mela XI
In January 2026, against the backdrop of a nation still reckoning with its own seismic shifts, the eleventh edition of the most storied international festival of photography in Asia, Chobi Mela, transformed this urban density into a living gallery.
The festival, titled “Re,” arrived as a punctuation mark in a history of resistance. If the 2021 edition, “Shunno” (Zero), was a reset during the isolation of the pandemic, “Re” is a reclaiming. It is a prefix that acts as a pivot: to reimagine, to reshape, and to reflect on a world standing at the threshold of a new timeline.
As Festival Director ASM Rezaur Rahman told the press, the shift is both practical and symbolic. “In 2021, amid COVID-19 realities, we held a limited special edition Chobi Mela,” he stated. “This time, the 11th edition is organised in full scale, under the theme “Re.” The prefix “Re” resonates again, anew, or otherwise. As the world and Bangladesh face a new era and looking forward to a new timeline, we have reimagined and reshaped Chobi Mela to reflect that.”
Chobi Mela XI was not housed in a singular location. Instead, it occupied the sprawling geography of Dhaka itself, spreading nine exhibitions across five key venues. In Panthapath, the DrikPath Bhobon emerged as a striking concrete expression of the festival’s ethos, while the festival itself unfolded across the Bangladesh National Museum, the Bangladesh Shilpakala Academy, and the Alliance Française de Dhaka. Most provocatively, it moved to the Southern Plaza of the Bangladesh National Parliament, bringing art directly into the shadow of Louis Kahn’s brutalist icon.
At the Bangladesh Shilpakala Academy, the curation collapsed historical distance; here, In sections like If the Land Could Speak, the works of Adam Broomberg, Karachi LaJamia, and Syed Muhammad Zakir sat in conversation. Sarker Protick noted that despite their differences in places and approaches, these artists are tethered by a common urge to explore the connections between history, people, and environment. In this arrangement, the festival suggests that the struggle for identity in the Global South is not a series of isolated events, reminding the viewer that while the actors change, the work of rebuilding and reimagining remains a constant, borderless necessity.
The brilliance of the “Re” theme lay in its refusal to look away. Curated by Munem Wasif and Sarker Protick, the group exhibition, But a Wound that Fights — its title borrowed from the Palestinian poet, Mahmoud Darwish — connected the jagged lines of conflict between Dhaka, Gaza, Karachi, and Kashmir. Munem Wasif explains that the work is designed to address the world’s current conflicts and tensions, bringing together perspectives from these disparate yet deeply connected landscapes to explore how artists perceive a shared language of struggle.
In a particularly timely intervention, the festival introduced un(learning) Palestine, embodying solidarity, a reading room and visual archive conceived by Yasmine Eid-Sabbagh and Munem Wasif, in collaboration with Laleh Bergman Hossain. It was designed as a space for historical immersion through letters, books, and photos — a quiet counterpoint to the fractured narratives of the 24-hour news cycle. Nearby, guest curator Tanvi Mishra’s Rights of Passage interrogated the logic of borders, illustrating real and fictional confrontations with border regimes through works like Hoda Afshar’s portraits of refugees.
History demands we look at the people behind the frames. At the Southern Plaza of the National Parliament, an outdoor exhibition titled Women in the July Uprising: Essential Then—Why Erased Now? challenged the selective memory of the recent political movements. Featuring 25 photographers and research by Jannatul Mawa, it showcased the vital presence of women in the 2024 anti-discrimination protests.
“In a country where women make up half the population, it’s inconceivable that they be excluded from the process of building an inclusive nation,” Mawa shared. By placing these images in a public, outdoor space, the festival bridged the gap between the elite art world and the citizen on the street. “Through this exhibition, we are once again highlighting the presence and participation of women through works of 25 photographers, because
Photography serves as evidence. And the struggle against inequality continues; it
has not ended.”
While the group shows tackled systemic issues, the solo exhibitions offered intimate, long-form meditations on the human condition.
In the galleries of the Bangladesh Shilpakala Academy, one finds the evocative world of Alessandra Sanguinetti. Her long-term project, The Adventures of Guille and Belinda and the Enigmatic Meaning of Their Dreams, is a masterclass in the passage of time. Sanguinetti began photographing two cousins, Guillermina and Belinda, in 1999 as they grew up on their family’s farm in rural Argentina.
The work is a lyrical exploration of childhood imagination set against the stark, dusty reality of the pampas. Over two decades, the images shift from the whimsical — the girls dressed as iconic figures or playing in the fields — to the poignant complexities of adulthood, pregnancy, and the quiet weight of domestic life. In the context of Chobi Mela, Sanguinetti’s work serves as a reminder that the personal is inherently political; the lives of two women in rural Argentina mirror the universal struggles and triumphs of womanhood across the Global South.
In sharp contrast to Sanguinetti’s quietude is the work of Berlin-based Pakistani artist Bani Abidi. Her exhibition, The Reassuring Hand Gestures of Big Men, Small Men, All Men, focuses on the performative nature of power — the specific, rehearsed movements of politicians’ hands that signify authority or dismissal. By isolating these gestures, Abidi renders the great men of history absurd. Abidi uses video, photography, and drawing to dismantle the grand narratives of South Asian politics.
One of her most striking series, The Man Who Talked Until He Disappeared, occupies a space where humor meets a biting critique of statecraft and nationalism. Her work resonates deeply in Dhaka, a city where the visual language of politics is ubiquitous, forcing the viewer to question the legitimacy of the icons that populate their daily lives.
The festival also pays homage to the foundational figures of Bangladeshi photography, most notably through the archive of Amanul Huq. Titled The Romantic Documentarian, this retrospective at the Bangladesh National Museum provides a vital historical bridge. Huq was not merely a witness but a participant in the birth of a nation. His lens captured the most pivotal moments of the 20th century in Bengal: the 1952 Language Movement, the 1971 Liberation War, and the cultural luminaries who defined the era, including the filmmaker Satyajit Ray. His photographs possess a classic, almost cinematic quality — a romantic eye that finds beauty even in the grit of revolution.
During a festival panel, Shahidul Alam reflected on the rarity of such figures, “People like Amanul Huq do not come often; but when they do, we must ensure we recognise them and hold them amongst us.” By including Huq’s archive, Chobi Mela XI re-contextualises (to use the festival’s own prefix) the current political moment within a longer lineage of Bangladeshi resistance.
Chobi Mela has never been just about pretty pictures. This edition featured six intensive workshops designed to hone the skills of the next generation of visual storytellers. Led by international figures such as Rena Effendi, Dr. Amak Mahmoodian, and Arko Datta, these sessions moved beyond technical proficiency to explore the ethics of the image and the responsibility of the witness.
Simultaneously, the Chobi Mela Fellowship, (ঢেউ /DHEU), curated by Shohrab Jahan and supported by the Durjoy Bangladesh Foundation, provided a platform for eight emerging Bangladeshi artists. These fellows, including Tanjila Biswas Munia and Mong Mong Shay, explored interdisciplinary approaches — performance, installation, and research-driven work — that pushed the boundaries of traditional photography.
The festival’s demographic was a reflection of its mission. 58 participants from 18 countries across five continents, with a heavy emphasis on the global majority. By centering voices from Sudan, Lebanon, Myanmar, and Azerbaijan, Chobi Mela XI bypassed the traditional gatekeepers of Paris and New York.
Chobi Mela has often faced government shutdowns and censorship in the past. Shahidul Alam’s own history of incarceration casts a long shadow over the festival. However, this edition felt less like a protest and more like a victory lap for the spirit of free expression. The very existence of the festival, patronised by the Ministry of Cultural Affairs but fiercely independent in its curation, is a miracle of logistics and willpower. Chobi Mela XI proved that even when you start from a place of “Re,” the resulting sum is a powerful reaffirmation of life.
In a world increasingly obsessed with the ephemeral and the digital, Chobi Mela XI reminded us that there is no substitute for the grain of a print, the heat of a crowded room, and the shared silence of two strangers looking at the same truth.