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;
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;
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.
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.
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.
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