To respond to the grief of the refugee experience, Tibetan artist Sonam Dolma Brauen uplifts hope through her installation Field of Wishes. The work, composed of dozens of little white sculptures called tsatsas, is both an affirmation of traditional Tibetan cultural practice and a collection of wishes. Though many might give up on wishing at a young age, the true feeling of making a wish—tightening in the chest and pulling in the stomach—reveals its power and intensity.  

   Brauen’s piece is a testament to the burning hope and capacity for imagination buried deep within everyone. Using these qualities, this piece addresses the pain, confusion, and loss felt by many Tibetans dispossessed and displaced from their native Tibet. All of the work’s visual and processual choices are rooted in Tibetan culture, celebrating Tibetan identity while imagining a future after displacement. As a result, it’s important to first take a moment to discuss Tibet. 

   Tibet, a region in East and Central Asia home to many ethnic groups, has seen the establishment, division, and dissolution of many political structures and borders since the seventh century CE. In the last century, Tibet was a de facto independent state, established after the collapse of the Qing dynasty, which had previously retained control of the region. After just under forty years as an independent state, Tibet was annexed by the People’s Republic of China in 1950-1951 and remains a part of the PRC to this day, with some portions of the region governed as the Xizang Autonomous Region and others falling within neighboring provinces.  

   Under Chinese rule, Tibetans have been denied civil and political rights and face cultural and religious suppression. (1) A large amount of historic Tibetan architecture was destroyed during the Cultural Revolution, (2) and it has been estimated that anywhere between 200,000 and 1,000,000 Tibetans may have died during the Great Leap Forward. (3) As a result of the brutality of Chinese occupation, hundreds of thousands of Tibetans have relocated from Tibet since the early 1950s, particularly to nearby India, Nepal, and Bhutan.  

   Artist Sonam Dolma Brauen is one of these displaced Tibetans, having fled across the Himalayan mountains during the winter to India at only six years old. Her family could only take what they could carry, and after the journey, Brauen lost both her younger sister and her father. In her artistic practice, Brauen makes works that draw upon this refugee experience, as well as her cultural heritage and profound grief for structural violence. Mourning for all displaced peoples, Brauen has said, “We are actually not so long on this planet, we know we are not forever here. So things like that go through my mind when I see news. I feel so devastated, and I’m crying, and my tears flow, and I can’t keep them back when I see all this suffering.”(4)  

   Brauen truly hopes that her art can create change. But how can Field of Wishes make any impact on the monumental grief experienced by refugees like her? For all its subtlety, this work answers the question resoundingly by affirming and expanding Tibetan cultural heritage while amplifying the power of individual wishes.

   The process through which Brauen created Field of Wishes and the cultural heritage Brauen draws upon respond to the pain of dispossession by celebrating Tibetan community. Collective action and community are an integral part of the work. Guided by Brauen’s instruction, hundreds of participants created these tsatsas during a workshop hosted by the Rubin Museum of Himalayan Art. After completing their tsatsas, participants had the opportunity to make a wish, captured on a piece of paper each wisher rolled up and inserted into their tsatsa. As a result, the tsatsas are representations of the work of many pairs of hands, bearing the labor, love, and intentions of each individual who created them.  

   Tsatsas are small sculptural votive offerings used in Tibetan Buddhism, often depicting sacred figures or symbols. Traditional tsatsas are made by pressing clay into a mold, and in many cases, contain medicinal plants or the cremated ashes of loved ones. These offerings generate religious merit for both the deceased and the living and are placed either near stupas or other sacred sites.  

   Brauen chose to arrange the tsatsas made during her workshop around a 13th-century Tibetan stupa from the Rubin collection. Stupas are sepulchral monuments, functioning as a burial place or as a receptacle for religious objects. Similar to tsatsas, stupas are activated with the energy of the remains or holy objects held within them, becoming active vessels for Buddhist practitioners to meditate and reflect with. Then, to further activate the work, Brauen hosted a ceremony with a Buddhist Rinpoche who blessed the installation. The placement and ceremony revisit the traditional practice of placing tsatsas near sacred sites.  

   The mold Brauen brought to the workshop to make tsatsas is in the form of a stupa, echoing the larger stupa she placed them around. It was chosen by Brauen for its similarity to one of the only religious items Brauen’s family could carry when fleeing Tibet: a stupa-shaped tsatsa mold.

   Compared with traditional tsatsas, which can carry love, grief, and hope for the deceased and their rebirth, the tsatsas in Field of Wishes expand their call for karmic benefit to host wishes for a better future. Through Brauen’s workshop and through the practice of collective wishing, these tsatsas also become the site for a different kind of community formation, grounded in shared hope for the future in addition to shared religious and cultural practices.  

   This community is multicultural and multigenerational, beginning with the workshop participants and expanding outwards. It is amplified through the platform created by the artwork, where countless tsatsas house wishes and beckon viewers to add their own hopes and dreams to the collection. Field of Wishes serves as a reminder of the power of collective hope and imagination, particularly for displaced Tibetans who must continue to draw on their cultural heritage while imagining radical futures. For workshop participants and viewers who are not of Tibetan descent, the strength of collective wishing still holds true. In Field of Wishes, everyone who wishes is united despite their differences. While wishing, individuals become the same—the instincts and emotions informing all wishes are one, and these feelings must be drawn upon when imagining new futures.  

   This emphasis on the collective during the artmaking process indicates a divergence from individual authorship and an investment in anonymous unity. The work is expressing a distinctly “Tibetan” identity, evident in the forms, creation, and presentation of Field of Wishes, which all draw upon traditional Tibetan Buddhist practice and belief. As such, the work is an affirmation of these practices, celebrating a cultural heritage that is persecuted in its homeland as the PRC continues to vigorously implement its “sinicization of religion” policy. (5)

    At the same time, by inviting a range of participants, opening the work to a broad range of viewers, and modifying the traditional signification of tsatsas, the work expands the notion of what “Tibetan” identity is, who it includes, and who it reaches. In the tsatsas’ (and stupa’s) repetition and infinite slight variations, infinite possibilities for the expression of Tibetan identity unfold while honoring traditional visual language. Handmade distinctions exist on each clay form, but do not indicate ownership or identity of creators. The significance of each tsatsa is therefore not its creator, nor is it the wish held within—it is the unity created by the collective creation of the offerings, and the hope expressed by such an action.  

   Other characteristics of Field of Dreams further reveal this effect. The monochrome white anonymizes each tsatsa, strengthening the impression of the work as a collective rather than a group of individuals and enabling any viewer to project hopes, wishes, and values upon it. White carries a number of meanings in the Tibetan Buddhist tradition, including purity of intention, knowledge, and compassion—values that are critical in the practice of genuine wishing. White is commonly utilized at major occasions such as births and funerals, chosen for its representation of spiritual purity and emancipation. Brauen’s color choice is very intentional; whether imagining the birth of a better future for Tibetans or emancipation from years of oppression, pure intent and compassion guide these wishes for peace.  

   For Brauen, the most important tools to navigate the world are hope and imagination, sustained by community and channeled into wishes for the future. When staring across a field of real, heartfelt wishes, the true strength of hope can be seen. In each tsatsa, hope reaches upwards and outwards: for Sonam Dolma Brauen, for the future of Tibet, and for the most private and vulnerable dreams of displaced communities everywhere. Field of Wishes reminds viewers of the power of cultural heritage, the grief of cultural displacement, and the wishes that can carry both.  

 

Bibliography

1. U.S. Commission on International Religious Freedom, 2024 Annual Report of the United States Commission on International Religious Freedom, 22, https://www.uscirf.gov/sites/default/files/2024-05/USCIRF%202024%20Annual%20Report.pdf
2. Boyle, Kevin, and Juliet Sheen, editors. Freedom of Religion and Belief: A World Report (Routledge, 1997).
3. Minority Rights Group International, “World Directory of Minorities and Indigenous People – China : Tibetans,” Minority Rights Group International, (UN High Commissioner for Refugees, 2017), https://www.refworld.org/reference/countryrep/mrgi/2017/en/119721  
4. Sonam Dolma Brauen, “Sonam Dolma Brauen,” interview by the Rubin Museum of Himalayan Art, audio 1:41, https://rubinmuseum.org/himalayan-art-now/reimagine-artists/sonam-dolma-brauen-she-her/  
5.  2024 Annual Report of the United States Commission on International Religious Freedom, 22. https://www.uscirf.gov/sites/default/files/2024-05/USCIRF%202024%20Annual%20Report.pdf