May 24, 2003

Recent works by Anwar Saeed and Afshar Malik raise questions about what is imposed as sacred in society, engaging the viewer with a multiplicity of ideas and images, says Amra Ali

At the exhibition titled The Sacred Profane at Karachi’s Canvas gallery this May, the expression of the contradictory became a metaphor for life and beauty. If the self is in contradiction within its social milieu, it then becomes necessary to communicate that viewpoint as a matter of ethics.

When art manages engage the social and cultural environment it is born within, there is a joyous moment of revelation in having interacted with the authentic. Here, the meaning of ‘beautiful’ and that which is not, play with the viewers’ perception of beauty and art through innuendo and confrontation by turns.

Afshar’s imaginary ‘calligraphic’ works open debate about the sacredness of text, and its exalted status. What is at first perceived to be calligraphy in Arabic, is in reality a lyrical line that takes on the garb of text, but follows a direction led by spontaneous movement on a two-dimensional surface. The work opens up our perceptions of beauty and whether there is room for such a faculty in an age where words ‘beautiful’ and ‘pleasurable’ become taboo, as we find ourselves engulfed by a history of ideas from the west that question the validity of the beautiful in art.

Much distant in tone is the imagery of Anwar Saeed that finds a cathartic release in exposing the very unsettling, and that which may be taboo, by revealing the physical ‘self’. The move towards a naivete or childlike playfulness, while at the same time dealing with the unspoken issues within society, dodges the viewer’s perception of what a painted reality ought to be about. In the process, one cannot take for granted whether these works in sepia are paintings or drawings, although this may not be one of the more apparent issues within Anwar’s work.

However, by selecting an arbitrary medium such as coffee, he acknowledges his own stance within the norms of art practice: that he prefers to be on the edge, and refuses to be anything which he is not.

Anwar’s imagery disorients, as it makes the exposure of the ‘profane’ appear almost incidental. Within the Freudian narrative, with which the drips and stains of his medium correlate, there is an undeniable freedom to set his own rules of perspective and composition. He chooses to draw from both Hindu and Muslim iconographic traditions; another reality that confronts the norms of his viewers’ perception.

Perhaps the reference to Buraq, given the winged horse’s ability to fly into the heavens, is a reference to the artist’s conscience. Or is this the collective conscience of society? Could it be homage to the fantastic creature painted with much pride on trucks all over Pakistan? Perhaps both, as the artist layers his surfaces with different levels of meaning.

The appearance of the Hindu god with many heads is a symbol of hypocrisy, according to Anwar. His references seem to incorporate regional folk art traditions such as that of Madhubani painting in northern Bihar, or that of Pahari or Kalighat traditions of image making.

In Madubani painting, for instance, we see domestic or wild animals, where figures are painted from nature and myth on household and village walls to mark the seasonal festivals, or special events of the life cycle.

Angels, of course, may be reflective of the tussle between the ‘good’ and ‘evil’. There is a constant lingering of temptation, guilt, even pathos, as also suggested by many of the titles that deal with darkness and night.

Afshar’s titles, such as I would make a boat for you’, ‘Mirror of a mirror’, ‘Birds speak no words’, allude to the intangible where there is a sound and movement, like a raga that you can only hear and not hold. Creating visual parallells, in these crisp black and white images, the artist makes a conscious move away from his earlier more figurative work.

The new in Afshar instigates questions about authority and ‘respectability’ in art. To break away, deliberately from his usual way of making, the artist poses himself in a vulnerable, but challenging position. Whatever may be the outcome of his investigation remains secondary to the spirit of the search for new meaning.

The freedom to mix wet and dry media, colour superimposed on largely monotone compositions speak of the desire, like Anwar’s to be able to borrow from any tradition, or a move towards making new ways of seeing.

His frenzied scratching and intricate spaces of before are transformed into a melodious dance in slow motion. The meaninglessness of the text, which is really an abstract image, becomes its meaning. It is up to the viewer to find a recognizable image if (s)he wants to. There may be some birds in there, but who authenticates that wisdom remains open ended. Thus, opening the debate on art about art, Afshar’s work moves within the context of the postmodernist whose art is also a comment on art itself.