The Freedom of Impermanence with Varsha Thapa
Photography by Daria Kobayashi Ritch
Words by Karen Leong
In her youth, Nepalese singer-songwriter Varsha Thapa and her family drift- ed between the mountains of India and Nepal. For entertainment, Thapa’s parents turned on the radio each morning, introducing her to musical luminaries such as Narayan Gopal, R. D. Burman, Kishore Kumar and Lata Mangeshkar. Planting themselves deep in the singer’s subconscious, these early influences proved formative.
Today, Eastern influences remain central to Thapa’s music-making founda- tions. Spiritual by nature, her career goals come down to remaining open to all possibilities. “Anything forceful cannot be sustained, so the idea of letting something be really opens the doors to oneself,” she says. “My goal is to get close to who I am as much as possible.”
A process as mercurial as songwriting requires breadth of experience, and grit. Thapa finds it impossible to sit down and start writing without deferring to both. Rhythm and lyrics only start to form when she surrenders to the disorientation strong feelings can cause, allowing the emotions to journey toward somewhere more familiar.
Kavita is a delicate and heartfelt adaptation of that journey. The accom- panying music video sees Thapa silhouetted against the wild beauty of Joshua Tree National Park, in California, before retreating to more confined spaces to pick up a guitar and hit the song’s exquisitely beautiful high notes.
While Thapa’s music always celebrates womanhood and freedom, it also embraces death. “I take all my leaps knowing I may not be here tomorrow,” explains Thapa, who seems to benefit creatively from freefalling through life. “This is the best concept I have exercised over the course of my life... Impermanence can free us, if we make it our friend.”
Music isn’t Thapa’s only creative outlet. In a welcome twist in her story, Thapa’s status as an in-demand model could be construed as karmic retribution for her eight-year-old self, who was relentlessly bullied for her appearance. “I think of myself as an incredibly blessed person to have model- ling as a job, which allows me to be financially free, so I’m able to immerse myself into creating music I love,” she says.
Thapa has walked in Paris for the likes of designer Rick Owens, and appeared on the cover of various Vogue editions, most notably while draped in a stunning creation by Dutch designer Iris van Herpen. As a self-described introvert who relies on the quietude of her interior life to make her music, modelling is a way for Thapa to connect with a wider audience, and for fashion lovers to connect with her music.
Living between the two worlds keeps any creative impasses in check. Thapa also has a regimented process to help ensure her creative well never runs dry – morning meditation is non-negotiable and, for further enrich- ment of the mind, she turns to nature. These rites now have become an inextricable aspect of her day-to-day life, but the breakthrough that mattered was allowing herself to disengage as an artist.
A handful of days per week are needed for the artist to explore her internal machinations and the foibles of the shadow self – aspects Thapa cites as being “harmful” if she doesn’t take the time to identify them. She admits that Julia Cameron’s widely read self-help book, The Artist’s Way, has been instrumental in nurturing and expanding her creativity, and keeping solipsism at bay.
Thapa regards humanity and self as a template for her song-building. As she sees things, to behave as one does, and to study this behaviour through the sieve of music, is an intimation of humanity.
It is no surprise, then, that Thapa’s favourite read is The Red Book by Carl Jung. Described by the author as his “confrontation with the unconscious”, the book reflects Thapa’s abiding fascination with human psychology. Per- haps in her hands, music is the threaded needle piercing the heart of our hidden selves.