Meet Manasa Thimmiya Appaneravanda

We had the good fortune of connecting with Manasa Thimmiya Appaneravanda and we’ve shared our conversation below.

Hi Manasa Thimmiya, can you talk to us a bit about the social impact of your business?
Through my practice, I am deeply committed to engaging with diverse communities, particularly those that are marginalized or underrepresented. My work is not just about creating art; it’s about fostering spaces for dialogue, self-expression, and healing. I address pressing social issues like mental health, identity, and cultural heritage, using these as focal points to bring people together. By organizing community-driven art projects, workshops, and performances, I strive to empower individuals, fostering connections that might not otherwise occur.
One of the key aspects of my work is creating inclusive environments where participants can explore their identities, share their stories, and find common ground with others. This approach allows for a collective healing process, where the act of creating and experiencing art becomes a powerful tool for social change.

The Backyard Plague, my community-based initiative, embodies this philosophy. It serves as a platform where art and activism intersect, providing a space for underrepresented voices to be heard and validated. Through The Backyard Plague, I aim to break down barriers and challenge societal norms, using art to advocate for justice, equity, and inclusion. That being said the Plague showcases work of seasoned artists alongside newer creators, this creates a space to not just connect but also learn from one and other.

Whether through a collaborative mural, a community performance, or a workshop focused on cultural heritage, my goal is to make art accessible and meaningful to everyone, regardless of their background. I believe that art has the power to transform lives, and through my practice, I am dedicated to using that power to uplift and support the communities I work with. Over the years I have learnt that community is truly at the heart of my art.

At some point I would like to let the Plague evolve into what it is meant to do, take over backyards around the world. Activating neighborhoods and gathering all the other artists who are waiting to be picked up by a gallery somewhere. The time is neigh, there is such amazing work coming out from all the different corners of this little rock we live on. At this point the shows happen in my backyard and I am in the midst of working on expanding the scope of this project with the help of my growing community. It is not just my organization helping the community, it is also the other way around.

Let’s talk shop? Tell us more about your career, what can you share with our community?
My art is deeply rooted in social practice and addresses crucial cultural and social issues. What sets me apart is my ability to create thought-provoking pieces across various mediums, engaging viewers on visual, emotional, and intellectual levels. I’m most proud of my recent durational performance art piece for the Glasshouse Projects, “Uyyalla,” where I suspended myself in a saree for eighteen hours, highlighting themes of endurance and the cultural identity of communities in India. The idea of the mother is an overarching theme in my practice, representing care, compassion, and safety. Another recent performance work, “Gorintaaku,” celebrated being a woman by reclaiming the narrative of the traditional significance of henna, or Gorintaaku in my mother tongue, Telugu. It was an invitation into a safe space for those like me, for those who have faced issues of colorism, to ‘sit with me,’ a piece for forgiveness and self-compassion.

I started off as a graphic designer, graduating with my first master’s degree at twenty-one. It took me several years to find my calling as an artist. Now, at thirty-one, I hold a second graduate diploma, this time in Fine Arts. Being a creative hasn’t always been easy, but it has been an adventure filled with moments of joy. As an artist, this is something you just cannot avoid. Artist Evri Kwong once said that artists are sponges—our main purpose is to soak in everything happening around us and then transform it into ways that are more accessible to others. This echoes in my head every time I am struck by emotion, whether from my surroundings, an event, or my work.

My journey to where I am today has been anything but easy. Moving from India to San Francisco, I faced extreme cultural and environmental changes that triggered past traumas and mental health challenges. Overcoming these difficulties involved a lot of resilience and support from my mentors, family, and community. The most important lesson I’ve learned is the power of persistence and the importance of seeking and accepting support.

I want the world to know that my work is not just about creating art, but also about fostering dialogue and understanding around social justice, heritage, and the experiences of marginalized communities. My projects, like the Backyard Plague initiative, aim to create inclusive art communities and provide platforms for both emerging and established artists. The Plague is a community-driven event where I bring together creators while activating neighborhoods in different parts of the world. For now, I host it in my own backyard in San Francisco.

Through my art, I strive to be a voice for those who are often unheard, and I hope to inspire others to engage with and reflect on the pressing social issues of our time.

Let’s say your best friend was visiting the area and you wanted to show them the best time ever. Where would you take them? Give us a little itinerary – say it was a week long trip, where would you eat, drink, visit, hang out, etc.
My travel to LA has not yet materialized, but I’m eagerly anticipating the chance to immerse myself in the city’s vibrant art scene and expand my community there. I’ve often heard, “You would love LA; you and your art would thrive there,” which only heightens my excitement. Since I’ve come out of my shell, I’ve developed a unique way of discovering a city—through its people. I find that locals provide the best insight into a place, offering perspectives that you won’t find in guidebooks or tourist brochures. When exploring a new city, I usually pick a spot where I can interact with locals—whether it’s a stranger in a park, a barista in a café, or a cashier at a shop—and ask them what I absolutely must see. These interactions often lead me to hidden gems, from tucked-away galleries to street art that speaks volumes about the local culture. This approach allows my exploration to flow naturally, taking me to unexpected places and keeping me on my toes.

If I had a friend visiting LA, I would apply the same method. I’d start with a visit to a local café in a vibrant neighborhood like Silver Lake or Venice Beach, where we could chat with locals about must-see spots. From there, I’d let the day unfold organically, perhaps leading us to the Getty Center for some breathtaking art and architecture, or to a lesser-known gallery in the Arts District. We might stumble upon a live music performance in Echo Park or discover incredible street art in downtown LA. By the end of the day, we’d have experienced a side of LA that is authentic, diverse, and reflective of its dynamic art scene, all thanks to the guidance of the city’s people.
Exploring the local art scene would be at the top of my list and I hear LA is definitely the place to explore more contemporary work. As a new artist entering the performance art space you know that is what I am going to be looking for. I am always on the hunt for titillation.

Who else deserves some credit and recognition?
I definitely want to dedicate my shoutout to my mother and father. Without their mental, emotional, and financial support, I wouldn’t even be able to call myself an artist. Though everyone labeled me an artist from a young age, I’ve only truly embraced this identity over the past few years. My parents, coming from a lower-middle-class background, worked tirelessly to provide for me. After defying societal norms by marrying across different castes and sub-cultures in India, they waited eight years to bring me into this world, ensuring they could give me the life they never had.

Unlike many traditional Indian families, my parents have supported my journey to further education instead of pressuring me to marry, even as a thirty-one-year-old woman. They built me up brick by brick, and every time I was knocked down, they helped put those bricks back in place. This might sound stereotypical, but a Sanskrit prayer I learned as a child says, “Mathru Devo Bhava! Pithru Devo Bhava,” meaning “your mother is akin to God, your father is akin to God.” While I recognize this as an atheist, I see them as creators both literally and in essence. Thank you, Mala, my amma. Thank you, Thimmiya, my papa.

The prayer also says, “Acharya Devo Bhava,” meaning “your teacher is akin to God.” To acknowledge this, I’d like to give a shoutout to my professor and mentor, Kim Anno. When I moved to San Francisco from India, I was full of energy and excitement, but soon I was struck by the extreme change, which triggered debilitating mental health issues. Kim was a ray of light, offering a supportive shoulder instead of giving up on me. She continues to encourage my growth alongside many other young artists. Recently, while discussing the Olympics, the story of Simone Biles and Jordan Chiles brought tears to her eyes as she spoke about the power of support, care, and not giving up on each other.

While there are many people, places, objects, and situations that have brought me to where I am today, I cannot help but keep these individuals at the forefront of my gratitude.

Website: https://www.manasathimmiya.com/

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/manasathimmiya/

Other: https://vimeo.com/user165445692 

Image Credits
Cover Image: Jordan Dozzi-Perry