Last month the Editor enjoyed a coffee with Lisa Pingale, founder of Monalisa Kalagram in Koregaon Park, Pune, India. The Monalisa Kalagram is an art centre/gallery that aims to promote art and create a community of artists, painters, poets, writers, creative thinkers. Here is the interview, below:
Editor: Lisa, thank you for speaking with Country Squire Magazine. Monalisa Kalagram is described as an ‘oasis’ in Koregaon Park. From a mother-daughter inspiration to a vibrant cultural hub, what was the founding vision, and how has it evolved since 2016?
Lisa Pingale: Thank you for having me. The founding vision was deeply personal—to create a space that felt like an extension of the home I grew up in, inspired by the creativity of my late mother. It was born from the bond I shared with my mother, Mona, and a desire to build a sanctuary for creativity that wasn’t confined by rigid categories. We envisioned a kalagram—a village of arts—where visual art, performance, literature, and craft could coexist and converse. Over the years, it has evolved from a gallery into a living, breathing community space. The vision has matured, but the core remains: to be a dynamic platform for dialogue, discovery, and the celebration of both the contemporary and the deeply traditional.
Editor: You wear many hats: gallery founder, cultural curator, and, intriguingly, a farmer in Mahabaleshwar. How does your connection to the land and the act of growing strawberries influence your curatorial philosophy in Pune?
LP: (Laughs) They are two halves of the same whole. In Mahabaleshwar, I’m a cultivator. There’s a rhythm, a patience, and a profound connection to the earth that grounds you. That directly influences my work at Monalisa Kalagram. Curating, like farming, is about nurturing. You prepare the soil—the space and the audience—carefully select the seeds—the artists and their works—and provide the environment for them to grow and flourish. The strawberries teach me about seasonal cycles, organic growth, and tangible yield. It’s a constant reminder that art, at its best, is also organic; it grows from a place of authenticity and needs a supportive ecosystem to thrive. This is why we champion traditional artisans and sustainable art with such heart—it’s about respecting roots and natural processes.
Editor: In a recent article, you noted that Pune’s art scene is “overshadowed by the allure of big cities,” yet you see hope in a new generation of young collectors. How is this demographic—young and particular to India—changing the dynamics, and what does it mean for Pune’s artistic identity?
LP: It’s the most exciting shift. Post-lockdown, we’ve seen a surge of young professionals and families in Pune who are culturally curious and confident in their own taste. They’re not buying art merely as a status symbol or an investment to be validated by a Mumbai or Delhi postcode. They’re buying what they love, what speaks to them personally, and they’re actively exploring their own city’s offerings. This is fostering a more sustainable and authentic local market. It means Pune’s artistic identity can grow from within, becoming less about comparison and more about its own unique voice—a blend of its rich heritage, educational capital, and this new, discerning energy.
Editor: You’ve passionately argued that traditional art is often misconstrued as “un-innovative” and lacks exposure. How does Monalisa Kalagram actively bridge this gap, and what traditional forms are you most excited about today?
LP: We bridge the gap by giving traditional art pride of place, not as a relic, but as a living practice. Our annual art, craft, and textile bazaar, Miraas, featuring award-winning master craftsmen, is a key example—it brings master weavers and artisans from across India directly to our community. We also curate exhibitions that contextualise traditional forms, showing their evolution and the contemporary narratives within them. For me, traditional art is where all art began. I’m incredibly excited by the artists who are innovators within tradition—the miniature painter exploring current affairs, the textile artist using natural dyes in abstract forms, or the sculptor using ancient metal techniques for modern expressions. Their skill is unparalleled, and their innovation is profound, yet quiet.
Editor: Looking forward, you’ve highlighted the need for global events and state-of-the-art spaces in Pune. What practical steps are needed for Pune’s art ecosystem to collaborate internationally and attract world-class exhibitions?
LP: It requires a concerted, collaborative effort. Firstly, we need more public-private partnerships to develop infrastructure—spaces that can handle large-scale installations, international loans, and digital integrations. Secondly, Pune’s galleries, museums, and festivals need to form a consortium to present a unified front to international bodies. We can pitch Pune not just as a market, but as a unique cultural destination with a savvy audience. Thirdly, we must leverage our city’s academic and tech strength. Collaborations with other institutions can create cross-disciplinary international residencies and festivals. It’s about thinking of Pune not as a satellite of Mumbai, but as a distinct global hub with its own proposition.
Editor: Finally, as an editor, I’m fascinated by the power of place. Your Monalisa Kalagram is a transformed bungalow with expansive lawns. How does this physical, serene space actively shape the cultural experiences within it?
LP: The gallery is part of an ancestral property that has been in my family for over 100 years. I’ve always believed that there is an abundance and a boundless creativity in this place, blessed by my ancestors. Our old bungalow and lawns create an atmosphere unlike conventional gallery spaces. It feels welcoming, intimate, and relaxed. The boundary between art and the everyday blurs. A poetry reading under the trees, a documentary screening on the lawn, a workshop in a sunlit room—these experiences become personal and memorable. The space encourages conversation, lingering, and a sense of community. It tells visitors, “This is not a temple where art is worshipped from afar; it’s a home where creativity lives, and you are a part of it.” That atmosphere is fundamental to everything we do. It allows for the magic of a true kalagram, where art is lived, not just viewed.
Editor: Lisa, thank you. Monalisa Kalagram is a truly special sanctuary for the arts. I thoroughly enjoyed my visit last month. We wish you continued success in nurturing Pune’s cultural landscape.
LP: Thank you, Dom. It was a pleasure.