Mohammad Abdul Ahed was essentially an artist who made his mark as an architect. The linear fluency and chromatic ebullience in his art speak of an instinctive flair for artistic endeavour. However, possessing the uncommon ability of excelling in several disciplines, he was known primarily for his architectural works like the General Post Office in Karachi, and the State Bank building in Islamabad, among many significant others. Camouflaged by a successful career, Ahed's art, known largely to friends and family—since he never sold his works—seldom came under public scrutiny. The current illustrative volume, while suitably devoted to his distinguished architectural career, also carries images of over 226 paintings, some of which date far back as 1939 (when Ahed would have been only 20 years old studying at the Sir J J College for Architecture, Bombay).

This revelation seems auspicious as it comes at a time when new media arts are rising, but there is a tragic depreciation in the traditional skills of painting and drawing, the nuts and bolts of the profession. Modern eyes now are more at ease with other methods of rendering, embracing abstract design and photography. This, in part, has been caused by the assumption that it's photography and its cognate media—film and video—that tell the most truth about the visual. When Ahed was a student, reality was seized by drawing from life. This ability to render his subjects literally, with utmost ease and confidence, is the most remarkable feature in his portfolio, which is chock-a-bloc with portraiture, life studies, still life and landscapes. His sketch book is a delight to peruse, streaming with loose, impromptu renditions but with nary a line out of context.

The author tells us that, “A reticent man, Ahed's way of reaching people was to draw their portraits he made many acquaintances in this manner throughout his travels in the United States as he had done earlier in Britain and elsewhere.”

But it is figure drawings of friends and family as well as later-day collections of cultural paintings of ordinary people at work or leisure, that reveal not just his acute observation of the human form and his strong grasp of art fundamentals, but also a running hand constantly attuned to capturing characteristic features of his subjects in a rapid array of effortless strokes. Similarly, often unaware of her husband's penetrating gaze, Ahed's wife, in the midst of domestic activities, is so insightfully drawn by the artist, that the entire collection emerges as a labour of love. Sensitive to the nuances of the human condition, Ahed was able to imbue his studies with a profound regard for humanity.

Other than voicing his sentiments through linear dexterity Ahed articulated his emotive range through evocative chromatics. Simultaneously spontaneous and joyous, yet refined and measured use of colour in his paintings, especially landscapes, points to intuitive responses guided by a trained hand. Particularly interesting is the variety of strokes he could create as per the requirement of the composition and subject.

Fidelity to the muse came early to Ahed. Born with a disabled right hand, he began to draw and paint with his left hand at the tender age of five. Unable to participate with other children in games, he turned his handicap to an advantage by making his sketch book his constant companion for the rest of his life. Akhtar writes that, “even during his career as a practicing architect, his typical day at the office would be divided between architectural design with his staff in the studio and painting in solitude in his private office.” Art anchored him to life; it was the hidden strength on which he nurtured his other talents. Here is an example of an artist who aspired for true expression to fortify himself rather than play to the gallery and pander to the whims of a consumer culture, as is so popular today.