Fahim Rao revisits childhood punishments to create a thought-provoking display.

The interpretation, and sometimes misinterpretation, of a work of art by the print, electronic and social media combine to create the image of an artist and his art. What is the nature of the discursive spaces for art as they exist in Pakistan? These are serious questions to ponder over, as they emerge as the backdrop to the narrative of Fahim Rao's sculptural forms, on view at the Koel Gallery, Karachi. These are also questions integral to the reading of most art, but never really expressed within critiques, perhaps because writers insist on looking at the image rather than the context that makes the image.

The solo titled, ‘Paanchwaan Period’, refers to the sense of humiliation associated with punishment, beginning with the early lessons in life. For Rao, the fifth period of the English subject in school was associated with his childhood memories of dread of that particular subject. Many years later, he revisits that experience, which is now extended on the larger lived experiences of anxiety triggered by social intolerance. The high-end gallery, the electronic and print media (including the critic), which extend the discourse of the artist are also agents of dominance and control within an ‘English medium’ space.

The gallery space, a commodity of sorts, is also an intersection where the final transformation of a work from the studio to the audience materialises. In the making of the new narrative, the gallery is a bridge between the artist and the viewer, a significant meeting point of ideas and concerns. For example, it “frames” the work in its strategy of placing the work of how it thinks the work should be read. Thus the work is translated and consequently begins the process of adding to the work.The relationship of the figures in punishment has found a new resonance in the location of the gallery.

Twenty five identical figures cast in fibre-glass, in the traditional “Murgha” pose, are placed inside the gallery, overlooking the open courtyard of the café. The ‘Murghas’ face the clear glass of the window and the black (menu) board of the café on an opposing wall. The window frame, like a frame for a painting, itself adds to the imagery of the work: the crouched and bent spine of the murgha, frozen in its movement, is in an interface with the changing movement of the visitors outside. The black menu board stands as a reminder of that English period and yet it is as if the artist has re-entered that period, to renegotiate with it and to confront it in this ‘English medium’ space.

Inside the gallery, the large black board adds an unnecessary starkness to an otherwise poetic and subtle reference. It makes literal what is supposed to be about a different movement of ideas and material. Looking further inwards, the viewer reconnects with Rao’s ongoing sculptural form: his extended engagement with the spinal cord as a site of anxiety. There are two connections that can be made to the earlier discussion on outside factors such as the gallery and the critic which seem relevant to this.

The emphasis of light on the spinal form enhances the material quality of the wood and metal, but softens the edges, almost to perfection. The aspect of stress, which is the title of each work, is nearly diminished. The work is made palatable for the buyer. In the last work, the spinal form transforms into the lotus form; the gallery environment further lends a mystic/meditative quality to the work. If the same work was shown on the pavement outside, or another gallery, it would take on another garb.

A criticism that has already entered the reading of Rao’s work is when he will create more variety to the spine form. The prerogative of the artist is forgotten, because we want to see the work in a certain progression that fits our frame. In the end, it is the artist who must negotiate with and dictate factors that control and influence the reading of his work.