July 5, 2003

Perhaps ‘watch’ is the single-most appropriate word to describe the essence of photography. This is because the actual process of taking a photograph is about a person watching the world through the camera lens. This gaze is recorded within a second and then put in front of the viewers who can watch and admire the result.

Rahat Dar’s photographs document — and probably certify — the world in its immediate reality. The frozen images of moving peasants, views of street violence, portraits of writers, intellectuals, artists and simple folks signify the range of his subject and affirm the uniqueness of his personal vision.

It is a normal custom that an artwork, of any worth, is presented and usually conceived with some predetermined theory behind it. This attribute sometimes functions to turn pictorial images into subservience of literary themes or political propaganda. The tendency is evident in the works made by the ‘fine artists’ and in the individuals who prefer playing with the new media such as photography, video and digital art.

It sounds strange to mention photography as a new medium, since the earliest examples of this technique can be traced back to the mid-19th century; and almost everyone in this time and age is familiar with the camera and its process. Yet the inclusion of photographic image in the realm of art is somewhat new and rare. Even now hardly any photographs are shown in art exhibitions. Thus leaving the photographers with no other options than to arrange, organize and curate their separate and secluded shows.

But within this league of photographers, several groups or classes can be identified. Some of them are acknowledged as art photographers, others are classified as fashion/journalistic photographers and the rest are just considered amateurs. This kind of categorization and segregation seems odd, especially in the context of present world of creative arts, where various forms and mediums of expression are blending and the distinctions/boundaries between different genres are blurring.

To some extent a number of individuals are also involved in erasing this line between arty pictures and journalistic work. Though it is never challenged in a direct manner, yet its validity is put to question whenever someone presents a work which may have originated as a journalistic assignment, but owing to its aesthetic qualities, has the potential to sustain the spectators’ interest for a longer period.

Rahat Dar’s is one such work. A photojournalist by profession and having worked for several important magazines and papers, he has developed a personal vocabulary. His work always invokes a dramatic aspect in the most mundane objects, everyday scenes and ordinary personalities. Whether these are labourers in Bangladesh, or urchins from the streets of Lahore, Dar captures the unusual and poetic angle in his visuals. Occasionally his subjects are linked with some miserable happenings or a situation, as, for instance, in the pictures capturing the police beating up women, the homeless sleeping at the Chauburji roundabout or a girl behind barbed wires. Yet, none of these pictures is tainted with sentimentality of any kind.

A special feature of Dar’s work is that he does not concentrate on odd themes but seeks to locate/create an extraordinary dimension in everything his camera is turned to capturing. If, on the one hand, his pictures record political and social history of this nation, they, at the same time, bring out the aesthetics and drama in the way he captures reality.

Dar manages well to achieve the ‘picturesque’ through imaginative distribution of light and dark areas within a photograph. This division of contrasting shades is visible in his colour photographs too, where he renders the sensitive details of his chosen subject.

The photographer’s unassuming temperament towards his themes and visuals is reflected in his composition and in the selection of his imagery. The same attitude was the motive behind holding this exhibition — for one day on June 8, 2003 — at the Walled City’s Mission High School in Rang Mahal, Lahore. People belonging to diverse sections of society visited and enjoyed the display.

The fact that this exhibition took place in an area not known for displaying art surprised many, but his decision to hold it inside a school and in a neighbourhood — way outside the ‘golden belt’ of art — had an aim. It was an attempt to bring the work close to the people who normally do not visit art galleries nor do they subscribe to the English newspapers (in which majority of these photographs have already appeared). So in this way a body of work based on the representation of our immediate environment was offered to a public that can easily relate to it.

Another, and important, reason of arranging the exhibition in a school was to save that old and once illustrious educational institution from the individuals who are scheming to close it down and occupy its premises for commercial purposes. Having the exhibition and inviting a number of notable personalities was a message Dar sent to such people with vested interest.

Besides this good cause, which will hopefully help block the threat to a public school, Rahat Dar’s exhibition can set a significant and necessary pattern: of expanding the arena of art beyond Gulberg, The Mall and Model Town, and bringing it to the heart of town, as it happened on that memorable Sunday.