Canvas Gallery – Page 2 – Canvas Gallery

10 February 2019

Between love and violence – The News

Love and death appear closely entwined in the art of Quddus Mirza in his solo show at Canvas Gallery, Karachi

The human mind is capable of creating millions of emotional responses to given stimuli in its surroundings, and while all these emotions may feel distinct, many are not all that different. Love and violence, passion and aggression; they may sound like polar opposites but can oft times emerge from the same space, to the point of eliciting similar physical responses from the body; racing heartbeat, dilated pupils, breathlessness, a rush of adrenaline. There is a reason why there is such a thing as ‘crime of passion’; extreme surge of emotions can lead to unchecked aggression, and crossing the line from love to violence is not that much of a leap for most.

That is perhaps why love and death appear so closely entwined in art and literature (Romeo and Juliet, anyone?), most recently in the works of Quddus Mirza at Canvas Gallery Karachi (Jan 29-Feb 7, 2019). The two have held his fascination for quite some time and have been an underlying aspect in his past works as well. Here he addresses the two more overtly, yet also through certain subtleties of colour and style, packaged within various narratives. Through the treatment of both in violent splashes of red the artist points to their similar nature, blurring the lines between them and creating a sense of confusion; one cannot always tell by looking at a painting whether it is death one is witnessing, or love.

It Must.

All of this the artist achieves masterfully through his signature painting style, which is at once minimalist and saturated with imagery, colour and layered meaning. The childlike drawings sit among spaces of aggressive colour and unrestrained mark making, creating a sense of reckless abandon that harkens to the untethered expressiveness of childhood. Much like a child’s drawing, the artist does not believe in covering each corner of the canvas with paint before giving it the gallery wall, adding to the rawness of each work. In the context of the current works, this rawness becomes reminiscent of primal instincts, of unadulterated and unbound emotions free of complex rational thought. There is an honesty, a spontaneity in Mirza’s works, as he begins each work with barely a sense of what might be the end result.

Yet, his style has developed after years of practice and study. Having mastered formal drawing at NCA, he realised in essence it is not much different from a child’s drawing which is as successful in conveying its message. Yet, it is the childish scrawl that is more interesting, more attractive and more expressive, free of pretense, cultural baggage or academic conditioning; it represents the individual in its truest form. It appears simpler yet becomes even more difficult to achieve in adulthood; the unlearning and shedding of preconceived notions of art. In this way, Mirza’s works become one of those that challenge our perceptions of painting as a traditional medium, gracefully inserting it into the contemporary discourse.

Each work in this series is a world within itself. Yet, the artist doesn’t aim to weave a cohesive narrative that runs through the works, but rather presents a kind of collage — of disjointed thoughts within one canvas that centre around an idea. He creates little pockets of ideas, spaces within spaces, smaller images beside larger ones, some in the form of pasted found images, others painted with the ambiguity of semi abstraction, with the audience left to draw connections and derive meaning. Love and death thus becomes a loose theme that drives the artist’s interests, yet not a strict rule followed in each work.

In ‘How to be Alone’ for example, the two seated figures of a man and a woman appear to be cradling fatal wounds, bleeding out all over the canvas. The image appears violent and there seems to be a look of horror on the woman’s face. Yet the placement of the red on the body appears questionable, and is enough to create doubt in the mind of the observer, and the posture of the male figure along with articles of his clothing lying around create further ambiguity that is enhanced by the title of the painting itself. Is it perhaps more of a sexual awakening we are witnessing, a primordial passion taking form?

There is an honesty, a spontaneity in Mirza’s works, as he begins each work with barely a sense of what might be the end result. Yet, his style has developed after years of practice and study.

B 4 Blood.

On the other hand, ‘B 4 Blood’ and ‘Death and the Maiden’ become a bit political in their reference to 9/11. The former directly shows the twin towers being approached by a plane, black smoke billowing from the buildings and the scene rendered in dismal deep purple and a field of red down below. The latter again shows a plane, this time approaching a man who appears to be a decapitated corpse, next to whom sits a woman. Mirza sees airplanes as a classic combination of love and fear of death, as one flies to one’s destination with excitement, but also nestles an underlying fear of crashing and dying at the back of the head. This idea is perhaps what emerges from this work, reinforced by the image of a map marking out impacted areas, as well as the title which is taken from a play by a Chilean playwright Ariel Dorfman, which centres on sexual violence and the ambiguity between guilt and paranoia.

‘Different Dimensions of a Line’, on the other hand, takes on a self-referential tone and comments on the act of art making and self-expression. The artist juxtaposes four different styles of painting from different sources; Vermeer’s ‘Woman Holding a Balance’, a drawing by one of his students at NCA, a drawing by a child from a school he taught at, and one of his own childlike renderings. These four different approaches to the figure bring out personal nuances and the importance of individual perspective in art, allowing us to look and compare artists at different stages of their development, set against a Western historical canon to highlight the contrast and make us question the virtues of skill.

As the artist talks about raw emotions and presents them with a rather visceral, instinctual flare, the boundless freedom of his own style becomes as much a part of his narrative as the imagery and colour itself. “There is a certain freedom in this kind of mark making. No restrictions, no boundaries. I have reached a point where there is no pressure and I can create what I want to create,” he says. It takes one to a place where love and aggression, passion and violence, all blur into similar entities emerging from the same untethered primal space.

Nimra Khan

Source: The News

20 January 2019

INTERSTICES AND ART – Dawn

The Canvas Gallery kicked off the New Year with an innovative solo exhibition by artist Hasnat Mehmood. Titled The Studio That Creates Itself, After Allen Ruppersberg’s The Novel That Writes Itself, the show presented an amalgamation of two-dimensional art and an installation piece that, in a sense, also morphed into an interactive work of art. When entering a gallery, it is expected that the neatly framed artwork, carefully placed and precisely curated, will be the focal point of the room. One rarely notices the walls that hold up the artwork or the atmosphere of the enclosed space. However, Mehmood’s recent show did just that.

For this exhibition, the gallery space was divided into two: half of the room housed a number of the artist’s works, while the other half hid behind a translucent curtain-cum-wall made of strips of yellow paper. In front of the beige barrier, a television was placed. Live footage from a security camera behind the curtain was played on it and the visitors outside the covered area were able to witness what was happening inside. Behind the curtain, Mehmood created a studio, equipped with hangings of images, sketches and research.

By projecting the camera feed of the inside of the studio to those outside it, Mehmood raised questions of surveillance on, perhaps, artists and what is expected of them. At the same time, the recording became like a secret peephole, allowing one to spy into the artist’s private space, a space that every artist holds sacred. It became a way of lifting the veil and showing viewers the underlying mechanics of the finished artworks that were covering the gallery walls. This peek into the artist’s sanctum was further enhanced as Mehmood allowed the audience to enter his studio installation and connect with it on a personal level.

Hasnat Mehmood changes the viewer’s perception of the gallery space

The artist refers to contemporary art exhibitions as ‘interstices’, which are spaces that can survive comfortably within society but, at the same time, provide possibilities for elevating new and different human interactions that are above the rest of the social system. Through this reference from Karl Marx, Mehmood explains two important aspects of art, specifically those artworks that are displayed in some form of an exhibition.

Firstly, a contemporary art display allows its audience to move around the space, look at the work, react and then immediately converse with others about the art, all in one time-space. This is very different from, say, reading a book that demands private attention. In cinemas, a group of people can watch something together but discussion or any interaction with one another can only fully happen after the film ends.

Secondly, focusing on its similarity to an ‘interstice’, an art display provides a free-space which not only encourages human connection and interaction, but allows it to happen in an area free of time constraints and, therefore, become a place for human elevation amidst the monotony of society.

The artwork seems to draw inspiration from a variety of themes such as colonialism, pop art and linear form, but what seems to be the connecting factor is the inspiration the artist received from art itself. Working mostly in monochromatic and linear strokes, many of Mehmood’s drawings appear as Xerox prints of universally famous paintings with a written caption below, describing the original painting and its artist. There are also replicated drawings of museum work, such as the Mughal miniature paintings found in the British Royal Collection. The artist displayed a great level of dexterity, particularly in the geometric works created on scratchboard.

Allen Ruppersberg (whom the artist refers to in the show’s title), was one of the initial American conceptual artists who changed the way art was thought about and made. Similarly, Mehmood aims at changing the viewer’s perceptions of the gallery space and invites them to view it on a deeper level.

“The Studio That Creates Itself, After Allen Ruppersberg’s The Novel That Writes Itself” was displayed at the Canvas Gallery in Karachi from January 1 to January 10, 2019

Published in Dawn, EOS, January 20th, 2019

Jovita Alvares

Source: Dawn

20 January 2019

Museum works – The News

At her solo show at Canvas Gallery, Karachi, Risham Syed depicts how the past can also be personal and political

“History is like a bed: It’s made, unmade, made again and so on”, writes Ingrid Sischy. In the brief life of this country, history textbooks have been shuffled according to the policy and ideology of each government, be it a military dictatorship or a democratic dispensation. Indus Valley Civilization to arrival of Arabs in Sindh to Mughal and Sultanate periods to partition have all drawn special attention of historians. Certain eras like Hindu dynasties and Sikh rule in Punjab were airbrushed from our collective memory.

History can be an individual’s story too; compiled with bits and pieces of personal memories, experiences and recollections. What contribute to this private museum of memory are houses lived in, clothes worn, things bought and discarded, conversations heard, places travelled and dreams recalled.

Vintage Blanket with Silk Embroidery, Filled with Ameri-can Syntheic Wool.

In most cases, personal and public histories, often difficult to distinguish, comingle, as seen in the solo exhibition of Risham Syed, Cheetah and Other Stories being held at Canvas Gallery, Karachi from January15-25, 2019.

Syed has been drawing on history but her approach towards the past and its relationship with power makes her expression more meaningful than the artists who use it for sentimental purposes or pictorial delight. She investigates the past with all its layers, and creates a synthesis of the intimate as well as the general view of things. In this quest, she stumbled upon a canvas by George Stubbs, ‘Cheetah and Stag with Two Indians’ from 1974, while visiting the Manchester Art Gallery in 2017. She immediately recognised the painting as she had seen its print decades ago at her grandfather’s house in Lahore.

Lower Mall-3 (Diptych).

The painting by Stubbs depicts “the first cheetah brought to Britain” from India as a gift, which “took part in a stag hunt at Windsor Great Park……The stag hunt is said to have descended into farce when the skittish cheetah ran away and had to be rescued by its Indian handlers”.

Syed deconstructs the painting in her work bearing the same title. But the selection of this picture connected to her childhood memory has another justification. The “stag repulsed two attempts and then took to the offensive, chasing the cheetah”. So, the image besides depicting an event can also be read as the symbol of Indian defeat against the colonial power.

In her installation, she recreates a strip of the original canvas showing Indians startled on the behaviour of the beast. It’s a square painted with animal’s coat, and a piece of red cloth stuck from a hook can be identified both as a garment of Indians and the band to tie the waist of cheetah in the historic painting. The installation is further added with a text in reverse. This is the poetry of Sachal Sarmast (1739-1825) from Sindh who had witnessed upheaval in the society due to the invasion of the East India Company. Verses such as “Several crowned heads have dived into the dead hole” allude to colonial oppression and exploitation on the pretext of enlightening and ‘civilising’ the Indian population.

That period is evoked again in a series that originates from her reminisces of her grandfather’s house. In these diptychs, all titled ‘Lower Mall’, one part consists of dilapidated structure rendered in tones of grey, next to drawings of characters from bygone years, playing musical instruments or interacting with old imaginary machines.

“Museums should no longer concern themselves with state histories, that saga of kings and heroes, or the forging of national identities”.

In her choice of humans and house, Syed refers to colonial times, solely because that phase in our history totally transformed not only our landscape (canals, railway lines, colonial structures, cantonment areas) but our psyche too. Consequently, the past prior to British Imperialism and the present after Independence, are viewed negatively, reminding one of Frantz Fanon: “The oppressed will always believe the worst about themselves.”

Another landmark in the history of Indian colony was the Jallianwala Bagh massacre of 1919, in which around 1000 Indians were killed by the British troops. Syed’s work ‘Over to Jaliyanwala’, encompasses three aspects of history. As the title refers to the carnage, the artist draws outlines of the Cellular Jail in Andaman and Nicobar Islands, used by the British to exile political opponents; and replicates a small poster for soldiers’ recruitment in India during the World War 1, in a gilded frame adding a streak of red paint (blood) at the bottom.

Syed collects and combines her references from various sources to produce a work that is personal and poetic, despite its political context. She seamlessly joins materials as diverse and difficult as cotton, vintage blanket with silk embroidery and American synthetic wool to create a composite image.

Palm Tree with Light on the Drawer, Brass Animal.

A similar practice is observed in ‘A Chronicle Punctuated Series’ — installations with her small paintings and trinkets that she had picked from markets. The painted canvas and objects associated with separate pasts and places formulate a different kind of display — something in-between a gallery exhibition and a museum installation. Syed prefers this format, not merely on aesthetic grounds, but for a conceptual or political reason. She constructs these ‘museum works’, in which images and artefacts from diverse backgrounds and usage are juxtaposed to convey a completely new content. These works, initially part of ‘Art Dubai 2016’, suggest that “Museums should no longer concern themselves with state histories, that saga of kings and heroes, or the forging of national identities; they should focus instead on the lives and belongings of ordinary people, just as modern novels do” (Pamuk).

While Syed provides that glimpse of the future, where everyone would be working on their computers without encountering others, she punctuates the edifice of grand narratives through her art, particularly in ‘The Marble Heath’, with a “very Victorian, ornate marble fire place” which instead of burning coals, contains a painting of Space Shuttle Discovery, with its fire and smoke erupting before the launch.

One can decode the work in multiple ways which, according to the artist, “simultaneously represents the so-called advancement and destruction in modern times”. But it also contains an unresolved tension — since the shuttle is bound to break the marble fireplace and take off, but being an image it is secured. Yet, there is always a possibility of this becoming a reality as seen in Alberto Giacometti’s ‘Flower in Danger’ (1932) and the ‘Meeting Point’ (2006) by Rashid Rana.

Quddus Mirza

Source: The News

12 January 2019

Social Commentary – Business Recorder

Hasnat Mahmood has managed to assert his feelings through different mediums by producing images that reflected his self-expressions and served as a means to narrate stories. He recorded his feelings and emotions about the surroundings through lines, marks, tone, texture and spaces in a solo exhibition titled “The Studio that Create itself, after Allen Ruppersburg’s The Novel that Write itself” at Canvas Gallery, Karachi.

The artist’s pen on paper self portrait, graphite on paper drawings, etching and aquatint on paper, scratchboard drawings, photolithograph on paper, gold leaf on paper and gold leaf on scratchboard works delighted the viewers.

Each artwork was a commentary about space in social relations. Art has always been a social factor in societies as they initiate dialogue on social issues and provide a platform for common people to give their views.

Artists use logos, signs, symbols and icons to convey their perspective to the society so that the message can be understand easily by viewers and they enjoy the art also. These logos, signs, symbols and icons were links that connect people to the art and indirectly to the artist.

When an art was on display in a gallery anybody can comment on it right away which cinema and theatre goers cannot as they must watch the whole show than they can comment later on about the content and quality of the film and show but art viewers feel direct contact as they can express their views instantly at the venue.

Hasnat used his imaginations and converted emotions, memories, perceptions and desires in patterns. He imagined how these feelings look like creating different shapes consisting mainly of black and white elements connecting with each other through lines and strokes producing similar and dissimilar designs.

His art interact with viewers and also initiate dialogue. Mostly black and white with a pinch of gold and brown his artworks talked about many issues which he wanted to discuss and bring forth for the people to ponder. He left it to the viewers to fill the colours in their imagination according to their desire.

He used line and form to produce his desired images. He wanted viewers to interpret forms and lines in to dialogue. The body of work showed his observation and concept that helped him in developing and creating current series.

The lines cross each other, overlap and blends creating movement, they shift and they transform. And in the process they create beautiful impressions that share the story of their union resulting in different beautiful patterns. The white geometrical designs glow bright against black background. The meeting point of lines glow much brighter than the whole image conveying a message to unity. United we are strong.

NADEEM ZUBERI

Source: Business Recorder

4 January 2019

Art with Urdu calligraphy – The Hindu

Pakistani artist Muzzumil Ruheel works with Urdu calligraphy to bring form to fictitious conversation

What happens in the pause between conversations? The slow loss of words, or the lack thereof. Brewing, holding back, or giving in. These are all thoughts that have fascinated Lahore-born, Karachi based, multimedia artist Muzzumil Ruheel. In his first solo show at Tarq, the artist dabbles with Urdu calligraphy, following an idea — “in the midst of my contemplation, [I] chanced to meet with conversation.”

Language as a muse

In the show titled, Baaton se Baat Nikalti hai, the artist personifies conversation, making her the muse in two and three-dimensional forms. Using sheets of wasli (a type of paper traditionally used by miniature painters in Pakistan), woodcarvings, and numerous Urdu words, Ruheel brings forth a tête-à-tête within the exhibition walls. Framed pieces bouncing off one another’s presence to create aspects of a conversation — both good and bad. The concept is an extension of three-person show he was a part of in 2016, which revolved around the notion of “text” in general. Titled, In Letter and Spirit, the exhibition inspired a larger narrative, one that took Ruheel a year to complete.

In his note accompanying the show, Ruheel writes, “If a poet uses me, I am poetry… if I am in holy scripture, I am a commandment. If a common man uses me, I am just common.” The words are used to describe how the alphabet is a mere middlemen, unearthing something more abstract like emotions, feelings, situations, joy, or grievances. Since the artist is fond of reading and writing fiction, his work is often a metamorphosis of those thoughts. As the artist elaborates, “I have been talking to a lot of non-existent entities, [and] this entity’s dinner had been long overdue.”

Mapping words

On one of the first walls of the exhibition, blocks dodge one another in a large frame. Using different directions, and patterns, Ruheel creates a tetris map of sorts. The work is titled ‘i said this and she said that,’ and plays on the misunderstandings between two people, a gap that exists due to colliding thoughts. As your eyes move across to the nearest wall, a black Perspex carving hangs, attached to a bright red dog leash. The words please kissi ko nahi

batana are written in Urdu, and doubled in a mirror image. As Ruheel explains, “every time someone tells me a secret and then askes me not to tell anyone; it feels like someone has leashed me and bound me with a promise.”

In the middle of the floor, stands a sculpted form of the word, “mein,” built as though it’s being pulled upwards unwillingly. Exuding a sense of pain, the structure personifies conversation as the “mein,” being twisted by words. As writer Gemma Sharpe puts it in the essay accompanying the show, “One might say in an argument. You are twisting me.” Something we often face in our everyday, Chinese whispers in the real world.

In a lighter piece titled ‘small talk,” the artist draws a literal golden line, insinuating the golden opportunities that await if you stretch the small talk far enough. Since Ruheel has created all the works imagining ‘conversation’ as a woman, I ask if she has a face. To which Ruheel responds with, “She is a beautiful ethereal creature. Wise beyond her looks and a refreshing intellectual.”

Imaginary narratives

The artist’s use of calligraphy has a sense of mystery. While we may not necessarily be able to read the text, the form and titles of the works is self explanatory, but do leave room for one’s own experiences with conversation. Ruheel has been trained in the artform for a span of seven years by calligraphy ustaad, Khurshid Gohar Qalam, followed by two years at the Naqsh School of Arts in Lahore. Through the show, he experiments with the Persian nastaliq script that was developed in the thirteenth century predominantly for literary writing. As Sharpe points out “[The words] are closer to confessional love poems on the back of Karachi rickshaws, TV news tickers, and ₹100 paperback novels.” Ruheel gathers these from a range of overheard conversations, popular culture, literature, and myth.

One piece that plays on literary works, a paragraph of legible writing has been dismantled and strewn in a line across the floor. Titled ‘aqal ki baat,’ the letters taunt the viewer with an air of secrecy. Are we supposed to attempt making our own narrative, or imagine an already existing one? Across the wall from the scattered words, tower three large frames holding Ruheel’s favourite work. Named ‘pause,’ the artwork on wasli took the artist eight months to complete.

Pausing time

While standing at a distance, the triptych looks like it holds three large grey patches. But when seen closely, each of the sheets are made up of words written in black ink, meaning that the ‘pause,’ behaves like a breather. It can mean everything, and nothing. For Ruheel, the piece is closest to him because it took the longest to make, and still talks about a brief moment. “I think that resonates with the entire scenario of life. For us life might be a long journey, but for time, it is just an objective amount of minutes,” he says.

Through the show, Ruheel uses the alphabet to act beyond words. He makes letters malleable introducing a sense of tangibility to all forms of communication. Ranging from situational, to hypothetical scenarios, Ruheel immerses the viewer in a conversation with conversation. Proving in this case, that words, are truly enough.

Baaton se Baat Nikalti hai is currently ongoing at Tarq, Colaba, until January 1o

Zahra Amiruddin

Source: The Hindu

3 January 2019

The studio and the artist – Dawn

KARACHI: It is fascinating how modern-day painters and sculptors are increasingly becoming openly, almost with a sense of pride, interested in the interrelatedness of art’s various genres, and in the creative trends that unfold in other parts of the world.

An exhibition of Hasnat Mehmood’s latest series of artworks that is under way at the Canvas Art Gallery is another convincing testimony to it. The show is called The Studio That Creates Itself –– with a subheading of sorts –– After Allen Ruppersberg’s The Novel That Writes Itself. For the uninitiated, Allen Ruppersberg is a renowned American artist.

The pronoun ‘itself’ suggests a process of organic growth of a studio or a creative space which gets built up because of an unsaid but deep artist-viewer attachment. A look at a similar small space within the gallery is indicative of it. Wait. There’s more to it than meets the eye.

No, the reference is not to the ‘interstice’ (a la Karl Marx) aspect of art that Mehmood touches upon when he describes his creative drifts. It is his immense fondness for the community that he’s a part of which comes through with delightful energy in his works (although the effort is ostensibly aimed at highlighting a personal or impersonal reality). This is evident from his graphite-on-paper exhibits. Multiple technical and content-laden strands are working simultaneously here. His tribute to Andy Warhol’s iconic pop cultural references, such as soup cans, are heightened, and assume a local context, with the use of a simple phrase, ‘made in Pakistan’. Yet, Warhol never slides out of the equation. The fuzzy nature of the artwork, ironically, adds (and does not take away) to the richness of the idea originated in the 1960s.

Three of the artworks on display at the exhibition.—White Star

As far as Mehmood’s craft goes, well, a good look at his untitled scratch board drawings will make the viewer realise how competent an artist he is.

The exhibition concludes on Jan 10.

Published in Dawn, January 3rd, 2019

Peerzada Salman

Source: Dawn

15 December 2018

Concept of choice – Business Recorder

The elements of Wardha Shabbir’s paintings draws viewers towards her artworks in a solo show titled “The Space Within”, at Canvas Gallery, Karachi. Influenced by gardens depicted in historic manuscripts she presented those gardens in contemporary perspective. By using technique of traditional miniature painting she interpreted her surrounding gardens in linear organic compositions.

She wanted to demystify the concept of choice regarding human life. A person has to choose from these possibilities – right over wrong, eternal bliss over worldly and temporary comfort, self-sacrifice over self-centeredness. She tried to explain the way out of this mist of choice. She made linear pathways among the vegetation just like gardens of hope where people can find the right way out of the long grass and bushes that tangled among themselves leaving a path as thin as a line for a person to pass portraying the difficult task of living a life according to social norms, which was depicted by her in a piece titled “Representation of an Individual”.

She used mainly yellow colour in her works symbolically for spirituality as yellow is the colour of light that passes thousands of miles through space to reach us the same way we pass thousands of life’s tests to live a normal life which was acceptable by the world we live in.

She used space artistically in her works. The space as a background, around an image or at the centre of the painting create a new composition thus by moving space she created new space within her paintings. These spaces were in the form of passages, enclosures and sometimes even light.

Different configurations of well-trimmed hedges and other motifs represented the state of mind: the barriers that block our development, the path we follow through life, or the destination we aim for.

She painted structures by tiny leaves and tall grass with beautiful shades of greens – a colour dominating her works other than yellow. In some of her works she used sky blue to symbolise skies and water both closely related to life while a few in red and orange.

She was also fascinated by a dot how countless dots came together as a unit to form an idea on a surface to her dot symbolize infinity. The dots join to form a line, which then taken as a single object, which has self-perpetuating medium of self-realization. This can easily be understood by a diptych titled “Epiphany of a Dot”. Linearity of a path is the basis for a shape that can multiply and form a pattern, implying the path’s infinitude, which was portrayed in painting titled “Leaf Lined”.

Nadeem Zuberi

Source: Business Recorder

9 December 2018

The garden of painterly delights – The News

In her latest solo exhibition at Canvas Gallery Karachi, Wardha Shabbir is pursuing something more sophisticated and subtle despite using similar visual elements

The art of Wardha Shabbir seems to relate to the third day of creation; when “God said, let the earth bring forth grass, the herb yielding seed, and the fruits tree yielding fruit after his kind: …… and God saw that it was good”. A day reserved for pure vegetation, prior to animals and human beings. All that could be glimpsed in the work of Wardha Shabbir recently shown at the Canvas Gallery, Karachi.

A Dictation.

Having participated in the prestigious Jameel Art Prize 2018, The Space Within (November 20-29,2018) was her next exhibition, so one was able to draw links with and find references to her pieces installed at the V&A Museum. In both bodies of works, the artist appears to have expressed in a language that she had formulated several years ago. Inspired by the rendering of plants, trees, flowers and leaves in Mughal, Rajput and Pahari paintings, she transformed these details in her installation at a gallery space (2012, Rohtas 2, Lahore), for a structure during her residency (2013, FLACC Artists Residency, Belgium), as well as extended them into wall drawings along with the display of her paintings (2016, Rohtas 2).

A similar engagement was witnessed in ‘Way to Paradise’, a public installation at Bagh-e-Jinnah for Lahore Biennale 01, 2018. In addition, her works on paper were primarily adorned with a variation on foliage, branches and leaves; in some cases next to flying fish and other real and imaginary beings.

Of an Orchard.

In her latest solo exhibition, similar visual elements were evident, indicating that she is not after ‘presentation’ of foliage purely. Instead, she is pursuing something more sophisticated and subtle — the comparison and connection of nature and culture; of organic entities and man-made items. Thus Shabbir formulates leaves, twigs and trees into structures that are not possible in nature.

The difference between her source of imagery and her creation is the same as the difference in a forest and garden; one an outcome of a natural phenomenon, the other made by humans. From Mughal gardens to Versailles Gardens, there have been attempts to introduce geometry in the unkempt beauty of nature. In Muslim societies, the garden was not merely an aesthetic project; it was a humble attempt to reproduce the symbolic garden of Eden. Thus, one finds most mausoleums situated in beautifully laid-out lawns, flower beds and rows of trees, conveying that the dead are resting in paradise.

Apart from the religious aspect, garden signifies man’s ambition to ‘correct’ nature: to tame it, to use it. It is hard to find a straight line, pure cube, absolute circle and sharp triangle in natural objects. But man has made tools — axe, saw, cutter, pencil, etc. — to inscribe these shapes as well as to build forms based on them. In Shabbir’s work, one finds natural substance settled in geometric areas. A flattened circle, a squat hexagon, or rectangular structures, all allude to this bond and blend of chaos and order, spontaneity and control.

In a sense, this group of work suggests a merger between the outside and inner space. One constructs geometric walls, paves floor, inserts windows within a house, but one hardly has control on the number of leaves that will sprout or in what direction will the branches grow (interestingly the word culture is derived from cultivation, ‘preparing and using land for crops and gardening’). A good gardener tries to cut, bend, tie, so what we enjoy is an ‘edited’ version of nature.

Wardha Shabbir is stepping out of dual reality — of nature and convention. But like a fugitive, the chains is always there to haunt you.

This updated version is largely a generic practice. However, the difference in the layout of a garden in medieval Europe and Muslim Persia is not only of style; it also embodies how the world and otherworld were perceived and imagined in these societies/ages. Moving from her strict and not so strict geometric constructions, Shabbir has ventured into other forms too. If the works which delineate the interior of a room, layout of two blocks (‘In a Conscious’ and ‘Leaf Lined’) remind of this paradox between nature and culture, there are other pieces from her show that deal with the idea of a drawn shape in open format.

Beyond these structured visuals, Shabbir’s recent work also suggests a shift in the artist’s practice towards ‘nature’ or freedom. In ‘Stemming Line’ and ‘Of an Orchid’, nature takes over, emerging from two sides of rectangular sections of greenery as well as in the swirling body of a tree, culminating in ‘Follow the Line’ and ‘A Dictation’, in which the artist seems to be enjoying the journey of ‘line’ — an entity that in her and others’ opinion “does not exist in nature”. These works, in their lyrical nature, appear more like the text of poetry, recalling the script (or spirit) of Chinese Calligraphy. Here the lines, fabricated with layers of leaves, stand as if branches from a garden in a breeze. Tilting, shifting or overlapping, these marks look like a new script.

Epiphany of a Dot (Diptych).

Personal for the painter, this scheme is relevant for others too, especially if examined in relation to the design of display at her solo show. These works on paper were not hung on the walls as is customary, but were placed at an angle so that the viewer did not see a painting but read a ‘manuscript’. A scripture about tradition and times.

Along with the meticulous manner of painting her imagery and choosing her colour palette, the work of Wardha Shabbir denotes how a contemporary artist (trained in the traditional discipline of miniature painting) breaks away, yet is linked to the past. For example, the colours opted for her surfaces echo the background hues preferred in Rajput painting, particularly the Basohli School. The artist’s connection with the legacy of miniature painting is found in the way she draws her leaves, but beyond that it is a narrative about space, within and outside.

In a literal sense, when it is within, it is a bunch of grass encapsulated within a transparent stick (‘A Different Reality’) or a minimal structure (‘A Green Landscape’). No matter if the form is enclosed within a natural looking substance (a branch) or in a simplified block with slanting (yellow) top, the artist is trying to create a balance between art and reality.

One could address these issues in other manners, but in the context of tradition and treatment of miniature painting, the history of a genre has also become solid, real, pretty and precious. In that sense Wardha Shabbir is stepping out of dual reality — of nature and convention. But like a fugitive, the chains is always there to haunt you. If the art of Shabbir is a step outside of tradition, it is also a tool to perceive the past, not as a redundant entity or an attractive antique but a means to read and recognise the present.

Quddus Mirza

Source: The News

Pakistani artist Muzzumil Ruheel works with Urdu calligraphy to bring form to fictitious conversation

Language as a muse

Mapping words

Imaginary narratives

Pausing time

Recent Posts