January 3, 2004

This is Naima Dadabhoy’s second exhibition in Karachi, held at Suman House. The first was held in 2000 at the Frere Hall. The artist has participated in numerous group shows in New York. Murky depths of grey, the succinct clarity of black and white and finally a blood curdling stream of red consciousness. These are the colours of Naima’s work; these are the shades of a riveting theme. Life, death and then life again. The rhapsody of rebirth. Magical, melodious, often melancholy.

It becomes hard to separate the aspects of gloom and joy obvious on the canvas on display. They are intertwined, as are the notions of life and death in our world. Naima’s work is not a cheerful melange of colour or a vibrant splash of inviting shades; instead, it is a thought-provoking portrayal of poignant thought. It is serious, sombre and yet soft enough to allow the viewer to enter this world and search for one’s own concept of beginnings and ends. And that is the majesty of her work, the infinite space offered for the viewer’s own interpretation.

It was an end, which inspired the beginning of this work. The death of the artist’s grandmother led her to explore the dark recesses of death. The hope that lay beyond the final breath. Dying of cancer and leaving behind a heart-broken husband, Naima’s work echoes with the essence of this human pain. Her calligraphic work repeats the name ‘Rabia.’ Her grandfather’s mournful plea as his beloved wife lies, still, in her coffin.

The anguish of the moment led the artist to convey death on canvas and consequently sketch life as well. Her hope, that rebirth follows death and the system of the universe continues, in perfect harmony, as do the brushstrokes of her thoughtful artistry.

Part of the display includes screen-printed work where calligraphy expounds on the notions of life and death. Written in Indian ink, the cycle of life and death is conveyed through lines, grids and forms. The pathos of the day of the grandmother’s funeral is represented through the grandfather’s words. On Mylar paper, there is charcoal pencil, Indian ink and some watercolour. Another image portrays chaos. Pure and sinister. The bursting of cancer cells. The subtle strength of oil and charcoal on canvas.

As the passage of life propels out of control, there is an explosion of cancer cells, heralding the certainty of an end. And then a simmering down from dark to cream. Peace at last? Only after an end is there a possibility of rebirth. Thus life is nurtured through death, despite death and ironically because of death.

Naima’s art does justice to this cycle of life and death. The shapes and lines are carefully constructed to create a symmetry that is both surreal and earthy. There are circles, which say that the cycle evolves, revolves and rotates. There are grids, intersecting, and the formation of lines. There are lines, translating into the marking of life, sketching life. Shapes, which relate to one’s space, mind, vision. Forms play an essential role in moulding one’s life, environment and appearance. This is Naima’s philosophy. The idea that reality is comprised of happenings as they are perceived and recognized in human consciousness.

For Naima, the passage is a fluid one, there is life, there is death and then there can be the flux of movement, there can be a vortex, a whirlpool, bodies in space. There can be rapture, the delight at oneness, and an ecstasy. Possible only after the agony of realizing the limitedness of one’s existence. There is life followed by death followed by life.

The art on display is a mix of pencil, charcoal and Indian ink on Mylar, on paper. Charcoal, oil on canvas. There is also an installation, cascading wires, which create space and motivate movement. Asking questions of life and death, wallowing in the warm flush of rebirth. Perfect spheres of glass bottles with red in them, blood, life. Water evaporates as does life but we come back.

Naima says, “my interest is to exhibit the way space is occupied and gives out energy. Once the viewer’s energy is involved, he or she is already exploring the work, their experience could be positive or negative..”

The presence of calligraphic art resonates with an aching question ‘zindagi kya hai?’ ‘maut kya hai?’ Oft repeated, the rhythm goes, the pattern is ceaseless and amidst all this, the spheres, the grids, the lines.

There are shapes the viewer interprets as sperm. Growth? The same canvas depicts destruction too. Again symbolic of birth and death. Another painting experiments with shades that reflect what could be the warmth of a woman’s womb, the promise of peace?

At another angle we submit to a great depth of darkness and then suddenly stark white swirls of white mist. Quite the contradiction. More life. Vitality.

The contrast is another piece where the tones are softer. Three paintings placed in a row. Muted shades of cream. In each the spheres are placed at a slightly different angle. The circles of life.

A different energy is realized when the artwork reflects an explosion, the circle breaking and continuing. The image of a tumor exploding. Again the remembrance of the death of a loved one. The victory of a cancer. The inexplicable loss of those left to grieve.

Naima Dadabhoy’s work is displayed with a distinct absence of the confusion of colour. Sombre tones and dark shades, her works speaks of a philosophy that needs no vivid statements of artistry. The message is a thought provoking one: the pattern of life, death and rebirth. Her work is refined, elegant, marked by a superior sense of artistic confidence that needs no crutch of grandiose colour or form. Simplicity marks the day. There is black, white, gray, and a sudden sensual red.

Far from the studied nature of naturalistic art, Naima tenuously explores the boundaries of surrealism. An art form inspired by the sub-conscious. Our carefully guarded fears of despair and delight, death and life, are wrenched from the unconscious and placed on canvas. Naima does this with sensitivity and a strong regard for subtle effect.

Her work is not meant to entertain or to enliven your walls. From canvas to consciousness, it is a journey of thought. Careful and creative. The exhibition closes with a dark strain of blood. One strong line permeating two paintings. ‘One needs a line to draw anything’, says the artist. The line of life perhaps, the first ray of a breaking dawn? Or the drawing of conclusions. The decisive line of endings, only to be awakened into a new beginning. The line softly curves into a circle and so the story goes on.