Celebrated artist Mian Ijaz ul Hassan’s show ‘Devils and Demons of Gaza’ activates ideas of agony and triggers terror for the maker and the audience alike.
It presents at least 50 medium-sized paintings, mixed media on canvas, that are abstract in nature. These purely imaginary demons, that the aggressive strokes and indefinite shapes suggest and portray, exist only and truly in the artist’s mind.
He finds them in anything and everything that surrounds him — sometimes in perishable food items on his plate, in colourful fruit cut and laid in front of him, in art materials scattered around his studio, or within the flowering garden beds visible from his window. The works are expressions of the artist’s emotions that communicate disgust, horror and trouble at the same time.
Theoretically, if the work is an imaginary object and is not identical to any physical manifestation, it is the means the artist employs to get his audience to experience sensations similar to those he is having.
The question is, what compels a mature person, a celebrated artist and a seasoned politician to envision scary, heinous monsters within the confines of his household — which has been a sanctuary of learning and positive, creative spirits, not only for himself but for generations of artists and enthusiasts who have come to satiate their quest for knowledge in his company and that of Dr Mussarrat Hassan, his partner and muse.
Mian Ijaz ul Hassan’s most recent show in Islamabad masterfully depicts the brutal violence in Gaza
Mian Ijaz ul Hassan’s passion for painting spans nearly six decades. In this long period, he has undoubtedly investigated and explored his oeuvre without any inhibition. From self-expression to meditation, from empathising with nature to the appreciation of design, and from recording history to political protest, Hassan’s artistic career presents a variegated and steady flow of his experiences as an observer, thinker, and conscientious member of society.
He adopted various styles of painting as he progressed through his career, which became the milestones of a journey that he is still on. There are very few artists in Pakistan who exhibit such diversity of style and approach towards artmaking. The other facets of his occupation can be identified as an art critic, art historian, avid patron of young artists, and a politician. He leaves an impression on the country’s art and politics and politics of art.
Therefore, it is important to investigate the relationship of these dancing devils, exhibited at 8B2 Islamabad, and their possible associations with the national and international political scenario. The profound dialogue Hassan initiates through his works is incidental and not a defining feature of his art.
It conveniently transforms from leisurely conversations with nature, philosophical insights of a wanderer, and active accounts of violence, to aggressive interpretations of injustice and atrocity. Such activism as aesthetic expression has been the highlight of Hassan’s art practice.
He does this beautifully when painting landscapes — laburnums as symbols of resurrection, wild chestnuts, oaks, kikars, sheeshams, or old anars, all glorifying the irrepressible force of nature finding its way through the course of life. One thing that always climaxes in these expressions of nature’s glory and symbolism is hope — the promise of life, the aspiration of success, and an anticipation of revival. His more blatant depictions of bleeding and tormented figures highlight the plight of mankind across borders, be it in Kashmir, Vietnam or Peshawar.
The works in the recent show invite one to think critically about the situations one finds in the ever-escalating tension of power politics in today’s polarised world. Hassan admits to being overwhelmed by the declining human situation in Gaza. The massive human rights crisis and a humanitarian disaster leave the artist spellbound. This time the dialogue that he has been masterfully generating through his paintings, is not fully settled. It doesn’t, as in his landscapes, console the viewer, nor does it leave a message of hope.
The aggressive, forceful, often angry strokes in ‘Devils and Demons of Gaza’ animate despair. The abstract forms, overlapping shapes, trickling paint, exaggerated silhouettes, sharp outlines, and inflated contours lend apprehension to the enigmatic compositions.
The rhythmic repetitions, the poetic balance, and the harmonised colour palette of these paintings fail to decapitate the portrayed anxiety and fear. Hassan is playing his role, showing us the real face of power-hungry states, hypocritical politicians, and so-called champions of human rights, who dwell on the pain and misery of humanity, which is doomed based on skin colour and ethnicity.
It is his way of raising alarm and warning the powerful, too, of the calamity they are inviting on to themselves. The displaced populations, the hungry, wounded children, the wailing women and the defenceless men shall haunt the world as the demons in Hassan’s paintings.
The passive-aggressive approach in his recent works is also a reminiscence of Hassan’s political career. He has experienced Pakistani politics when ethics and morality pervaded the field. Politics in those times was not a career but a service.
Though retired from parliamentary politics, Hassan’s passion for public service remains active. He is committed to his people, enlightening their path with his understanding of life, encouraging and facilitating them to voice their concerns in better ways than siege and arson.
And it is this activism where he employs his painterly skills at its best once again, showing us the devils and demons that surround us today.
‘Devils and Demons of Gaza’ was held at Gallery 8B2 in Islamabad from Jan 20 till Jan 31, 2024.
The reviewer is an academic and published scholar with a focus on decolonising art history for a global audience
Published in Dawn, EOS, March 10th, 2024