“No garden is without weeds” (Thomas Fuller).

When we have some knowledge about the author of a certain work of art, we naturally conclude that the work bears witness to his/her experiences of life. This overlapping circle of life and art is not a mere accident, but a relevant necessity. Not to say that a work of art is only a transcript of events in an artist’s life or there is no such thing as autonomous art but this is where lies the convenience in understanding art. One good example is my interpretation of David Alesworth’s new body of work, titled ‘Gardens of Babel’, currently on display at Rohtas 2, Lahore, from 16th Feb – 23rd Feb 2011.

Alesworth, David, Grandfather's Riddle, C-print, ed 1/3, C-print, 2011

The work on display is an amalgam of various interests as disparate as; landscaping, a long history of involvement with crafts and popular culture of Pakistan and teaching art, that are brought together as if only natural. A detailed (3 paged) artist statement was available for the visitors, describing his intentions while contextualizing this body of work, a practice very rare. What struck me as interesting about the writing is the third-person narration, maintaining a balance between subjectivity, objectivity and the amount of information available to/shared by the author, providing him a great flexibility when talking about the ‘I’. The statement is so comprehensive that perhaps it would have made more sense if I had only used his statement instead. But reading it only after I had made some notes has helped me reaffirm my interpretations of the work which otherwise would have left me wondering whether my reading/interpretation has been manipulated after reading the artist’s words or has the work successfully made the artist’s intentions/aims known to the me.

Alesworth, David, Garden of Babel, giclee print 2-6, 2010.

Alesworth, David, Constellation, 2010, giclee print, ed 2-6

Ranging from photography to sculpture and installation, the show features an ambitious body of work, an abundance of visual material, such as; photographs of car plates registered in Lahore forming a large grid, photos of botanical name-plates of plants in Latin and Urdu forming another grid, microscopic (photographic) studies of an insect, large sculptures in metal (displayed outside the gallery) forming pyramids, among others. But the two large floor pieces in particular were the highlight of the show, titled ‘Garden Palimpsest’ and ‘Hyde Park Kashan’. These hand-knotted oriental rugs, faded from too much foot-traffic are respectively layered with the architectural plan of the Garden of Versailles and the neighborhood design/street layout of Hyde Park (London) where the Crystal Palace was built in 1851 to house the ‘The Great Exhibition’ (also referred to, as the ‘International Exhibition’) displaying the arts and crafts from all over the world, celebrating the industrial technology and design. This reference to the exposition at Crystal Palace is perhaps an inquiry into the colonial past, as by hosting the exhibition, Britain boastfully advertised its position as an industrial leader and colonial power. The mapping of the Garden of Versailles onto the surface of an oriental rug also makes references to power, displacement and ‘otherness’. While successive (oriental) rulers (in particular) have created the most exquisite and luxuriant ornamental gardens in their palaces and towns, the term ‘Orient’ speaks of ‘otherness’. “Orientalism is the study of Near and Far Eastern societies and cultures, languages, and peoples by Western scholars. The term was more widely used to refer to the works of French artists in the 19th century, who used artistic elements derived from their travels to non-European countries. But it has now come to acquire negative connotations in some quarters and is interpreted to refer to the study of the East (the Other) by Westerners, shaped by the attitudes of the era of European imperialism in the 18th and 19th centuries” (wikipedia). Furthermore, the image of a lush and fecund garden is one that is deeply rooted in both the religious and cultural heritage of the East, inspiring generations of textile artists to weave emblems of foliate abundance into their rugs. Where as, David in his statement writes; “The initial carpet intervention arose from an unsuccessful application for funding to create an on scale image of part of the gardens of Versailles in the desert of UAE in 2007. This idea of addressing an impossible layering of cultural attributes across time and space shifted laterally onto the loaded surface of the traditional hand-knotted rug. Its impetus arose particularly from the franchising of the Louvre to the UAE which was currently afoot - The disappointment of the project rejection was the impetus for him to reanimate the rugs as art works. Concurrently and whilst researching the notion of the garden as a palimpsest (even more so in the post-colonial context) he encountered Foucault’s theory of the ‘Heterotopias’. The term itself derived from Latin, “a place of otherness” and, in medical terminology the word was used to describe parts of the body that are missing such as amputations, excisions and tumours that are both of the body and extraneous to it.”

Alesworth, David, Hyde Park Kashan 1862, detail, 2011.

Alesworth, David, Garden Palimpsest, Rug work, 2010,

One wonders whether it talks of power, displacement and ‘otherness’ on a more personal level also, since David is an ‘English’ artist (in the context of the colonial history) who has been living in Pakistan for over two decades.

How to formulate an art that is political and at the same time practically effective and beneficial?

Going to art exhibitions these days is not very different from watching the news channels. By analogy, think of the enervating monotony of the political conventions and the dulling effect of speech after speech calling us to this agenda or that (corruption, political instability, terrorism, religious extremism and suicide bombings are amongst the favourites). But of course, art is not created in a vacuum, and is undoubtedly a product of the socio-political environment in which artists work. One such demonstration was exhibited at Rohtas 2, Lahore, titled “The Soil of My Land; nisar main teri galyon kay…” from 4th Feb to12th Feb 2011, by Khadim Ali and Reeta Saeed.

The subtitle of the show “nisar main teri galyon kay…” is a poem by Faiz Ahmed Faiz. It is in fact the first verse of the opening stanza, which is as follows;

Nisar main teri galyon ke aey watan ke jahan

Chali hai rasm keh koi na sar utha kay chalay

Jo koi chahnay wala tawaf ko niklay

Nazar chura kay chalay, jism-o-jaan bacha kay cahalay

My salutations to thy sacred streets, O beloved nation!

Where a custom, that none shall walk with his head held high, has been invented

And if a devotee yearns to go on pilgrimage

Then he must walk with eyes lowered and body crouched in fear

This reference to the poem emphasizes the fact that more than two decades after Faiz’s death, this subject still continues to hold a sense of immediacy. Khadim Ali’s work in particular, this reference to the verse and the fact that the exhibition was dedicated to the late Salman Taseer, all lament the decline of morality and the shadowy laws of this Islamic Republic, where persecutions of the poor citizens not only go unnoticed but are supported by the so-called maulvis encouraging bigotry and hatred because of a belief in a dubious view of Islam. As Faiz further writes;

Bane hain ahl-e-hawas muddaii bhii, munsif bhii

Kise wakeel Karen, kis se munsifi chaahein

Facing those power crazed that both prosecute and judge, wonder

Ali, Khadim. 'Untitled' series, gouache on wasli

To whom does one turn for defence, from whom does one expect justice?

Khadim Ali’s portrayals of the iconic demons with small horns and glowing red eyes accompanied by arabic text, denote the extent of misuse of religion for political reasons by the corrupt Islamists, rallying conflict, discrimination, injustice and intolerance. While Reeta Saeed’s work makes references to the troubled national and artistic identity of this land. Her use of (American, Indian and Pakistani) flags signifies international interference and political instability while the form of the flags makes references to the silhouette of a woman clad in a shuttle-cock burqa, as the small region about the eyes is grated to look like a concealing net or grille. And the large wall piece comprised of a metal bonnet of a car, on which a typical Persian/Mughal portrait of a woman is painted, references to the practice of miniature painting as equivalent to the popular culture of truck art/national pop art of the country, also blurring the distinction between culture of high taste and culture of popular tastes.

Saeed, Reeta, Untitled I, II & III, mixed media on canvas 2010    +     Untitled, mixed media on metal, 2010.                                  

The references made by the artists imply an intrinsic relationship between art and material reality and so it is an irreducible fact that we are bound to political arrangements.
But one profound by-product of such repetitiveness in contemporary Pakistani Art is that the various pieces lose their individual identities, drains much of their impact, and causes them to be perceived in terms of an oeuvre of redundant mannerism. Not to say that artists should restrict themselves to painting non-controversial subjects and leave political concerns to the politicians but we have become so used to/insensitive to the ‘representation’ of things/issues that Political Art seems clearly to be ineffective, (especially in front of capitalism which so effectively neutralizes its message). It seems to me that as long as the visual arts are practiced as they are today-made by artists in the isolation of their studios, consigned as commodities to galleries and museums, and made intentionally as artworks, as the kinds of things which the artworld deals in-then the effectiveness of art as "political" is at best only nominal. The "political" topics in art today are exactly the kind of topics which do not jeopardize the artworld. One way by which art can be genuinely politically viable is by rejecting art altogether and substituting the act and gesture, just like the politically active 1960's advanced the popularity of political action art.