January 31, 2004

It’s a strange journey. It winds and turns; makes U-turns. One may stop for a breather, may take influences, be protected from influences and carry an umbrella. Many will walk this path willingly, with an open mind, having preferences and enriching themselves on the way, writes Bibigul about the work of Shahid Mirza

Shahid Mirza graduated in ’82 in graphic design from the NCA, took up work with an advertising agency for about four five years, and life was tolerable. Had the period production ‘Khyber Horse’ taken off, it would changed some lives, Mirza’s included. It was in New York, when he took his portfolio to enrol for a course in design and got into a discussion with the course-supervisor, as a consequence of this heated debate, he ended up being convinced that he was a painter at heart, and not a designer and that paint he had to.

He sits cross legged on the chair in the verandah, and points to photos on the notice board in the verandah. “These are the ones I did in New York,’ he laughs sheepishly and admits. “There are designers the world over, who think they are painters, though. When I started to paint, I did so by making murals for restaurants in New York, somehow I always had an affinity for doing this.

“I have discovered that painting has its own vocabulary, that has to be learnt and read, it doesn’t come naturally, it could be the quality of line, tones, middle tones, micro tones, the palette or composition. All paintings hold the formal elements within, there is nothing new, only the subject matter changes. Form may be abstract or realistic or any other ‘ism’, the formal elements in painting stay the same; like in a still life, one can argue about the symbolism, the socio-economic or political reasons, but the foremost reasons stand as being visual and aesthetic.”

Shahid exhibited wood-cuts prints with Iqbal Rasheed at Shakir Ali museum, Lahore, in ’92. “Both of us together put up a great session, that was the first display of my work, I put up after coming back from the US. I used to paint on paper, and there I had piles of work, sitting all around, not sharing, not exhibiting, one day while I was dismantling some frames ; I tore up a lot of my work. About five or six hundred paintings were destroyed, Rabia saved some sketch books and a few remnants.” The work that was done in the next year, was exhibited in ’99.

At one time Mirza got a commitment for an exhibition, from the Shakir Ali Museum, but later they became selective, and felt they could not exhibit nudes because they feared that misdirected vandalism may effect Shakir Ali’s paintings on display too. “I protested that those rejected were my best works but the gallery management offered their regrets.” That show was cancelled; one of the reasons for setting up his own gallery was that he was painting nudes and had problems exhibiting them. He feels that the issue of exhibiting nudes has been resolved in the West, but here there is still much bias, the Colin David ‘exhibition’ haunts many.

The only time Mirza does not smoke, is when he is painting; now he stops to light a cigarette with the butt of the last one, “I had about 4-5 lakh rupees the first time in my life and I wasn’t sure if I should buy a car, then I thought lets try this out. I needed to paint full time, other wise I could not manage. I was not selling my work because I did not exhibit, so I had to do something to earn money, so I felt if I had a place like this, I could teach, paint, exhibit.”

The musicians had a predicament, they could not afford to rent academies to teach and they needed the students too; the students had a problem commuting, so in Chitrkar a space for artists, musicians and writers came together. “The happy situation is that for the last two and a half years, this place is sustaining itself, it is not a financial constraint on me. I wanted something like the Shantinekatan where the student is exposed to disciplines, like dance, music, painting and then a finally selection of just one.”

Mirza is adamant that anyone who cannot appreciate all the arts cannot paint. “Music as a discipline is taught only at the Alhamra Art Council on a regular basis. As it’s a government sponsored activity, it has its ups and downs; the Performing Arts Academy was a short lived plan and came to an end a few months later.”

The tabla, the flute, sarangi, the vocalists, all have a presence in his canvas, Mirza believes that the ideals of modern painting are the same as music; classical painting has concerns, initially with myth or story telling, having a definite beginning, climax and ending or finale.

“Modern painting or even literature is in a way complete and incomplete at the same time; after the first session the more the artist interacts with his work, in parts or the whole surface, the involvement grows. It’s the same with music, each individual will listen to his or her own, this they probably cannot share, it’s more of a feeling in totality, varying from person to person. It’s the same product and yet each experiences something different. I assume this is analogous with painting too, but only with a modern approach, where one doesn’t work with a frozen image,” he says.

Acknowledging the great Cezanne, Mirza believes his work takes a cue from Willem de Kooning (Dutch/American Abstract Expressionist Painter, 1904-1997), who suffered from the Elzimers’ disease during his last days, led several to believe that his work had deteriorated due to this, but on the contrary, “I think that his expression became very profound and he takes on from where Cezanne left off.”

Having strong political convictions, but not compromising on his independence, and not becoming a member of any organization; for Mirza that would mean relinquishing his own thinking to another’s. “Making a commitment of this kind means giving up one’s individuality, I could never do that. Like in art I needed to do something, that I, myself can evaluate.” The individual stands strong and by himself, an involvement with theatre productions, of Ajoka, a play in Sariayki and that of Manto, are projects on his plate.

Earlier, when there were no cameras, the only images were the ones painted by artists and representations of nature were constantly being added to the vocabulary, but now the individual is surrounded by too many images, in television, magazines, hoarding signs so now there is a need for a change in the opposite direction.

“Its things, things, things, a painting is finished for the viewer and the artist, if its a fixed frozen image, the viewer must be trusted and something left for the him to empathise with; painting on larger surfaces enhances the visual experience. Every one has to go through the history of painting, I have and I’m sure others do to, it’s a process. Ones natural ability can only help reach a particular level, then, its incessant work, after that.”

Some painters and even writers, work with a fury for a decade and then are burnt out, the slower ones prolong learning and growth; I am probably this kind’. Shahid has no qualms admitting.

The sculptures in the Indian temple fascinate him, he feels that the line in the miniature is unique to the subcontinent, continuous, flowing and alive on its own; using this line is to be inspired and not reproducing. “To paint feelings or sensations, the form has to be un-representational like in early Buddhist art, empty spaces were symbolic of the ‘lord’, form is like that, it tends to corrupt, Islam also prefers abstractions or negation of image, for the same reason.”

Being an avid reader, Mirza is a student of philosophy too, ‘Sartre’s ‘Nausea’, changed my life, coming towards painting is an instance. In the mornings I devote time to study Baba Nanak and Shah Hussain every morning, without fail. There are always choices, in the 16-18 hours of waking time, one can decide what to do’ He plans to publish a hand written ‘Baba Nanak’ illustrated with wood cuts and lino prints, soon.

He reaches out to switch on the lights, as someone walks in to review his latest work.