In the early twentieth century there were two prominent strains of the watercolour wash technique prevalent in the subcontinent, The New Bengal School of painting initiated by Abanindranath Tagore and the Lahore Oriental style propagated by Abdur Rahman Chughtai. Unfortunately we now have to unearth them from the recesses of history for reference.In the post independence years the status of the traditional watercolour and miniature genre here was valiantly upheld by acclaimed pre-partition masters like Chughtai and Haji Sharif—but new inductees were few and far between and the disciplines lost their edge as the race to emulate western 'isms,' to forge a new artistic identity, gained momentum.
In the current art climate dedicated practitioners of this exquisite art form are almost non-existent. Senior artist Aziz Mirza still excels in Chughtai reproductions—conventional wash paintings by Dilawer Mirza, occasionally exhibited in group shows, have been absent from galleries for sometime and longstanding painter of this genre, female artist Hajra Zuberi is the only proponent who has evolved a personal signature that courts modernity but is anchored in tradition.
Buried but not forgotten the wash technique resurfaced recently in an exhibition of works by Amir Hasan Rizvi at Indus Gallery, Karachi. An artist who opted to contribute to art education instead of going solo with his work; Rizvi has been active in the arts behind the scenes. Graduating in Communication Design from the Govt College of Arts and Crafts, Lucknow University in 1975, he has been the teaching the subject for the past twenty years at the Karachi School of Art, North City School of Art, Sadequain Institute of Art and has also served as examiner Sindh Board of Technical Education, Karachi.
Painting was a private indulgence till he was persuaded by well wishers to display his work publicly—he has since 2001 a half dozen group participations in local galleries to his credit.
Using a vibrant palette of strong hues Rizvi strikes a balance between luminous and dark areas to establish the mood of his composition. He discloses that often as many as seven washes, over a period of ten to fifteen days, have to be applied to acquire the desired depth and intensity of colour.
A steady hand enables him to handle the delicate linearity, so peculiar to watercolour wash, with considerable understanding and confidence. Ranging from bold to fine his line is fluid and pliant and his expression follows the traditional stylised imagery which links this genre to the miniature pictorial language.
Rizvi's thematic stance, like Urdu poetry, veers around the various manifestations of love and beauty as well as toil associated with the struggle for life. His compositions cast in the conventional mould are nonetheless original as he extends beyond the poetic to reflect on the cultural aspects of life and gives craft pattern and miniature vocabulary a personal synthesis.
Old world yet contemporary to some extent, the works hark back to the splendour and allure of the wash technique. Prime examples of wash drawings/ paintings by master artists, executed with as many as forty washes over a period of two to three months, during the genre's hey day were magical manifestations of colour, line and design—at once sensuous and evocative.
Today when the miniature has transited from its classical intricacy and eloquence to a contemporary open ended format; one wonders why the wash technique has no takers. If young students can be persuaded to imbibe the labour intensive, precision oriented miniature technique and preparation, surely transmitting the modus operandi of the watercolour wash is possible. Is there a dearth of requisite teaching faculty—an absence of art college / school institutional support, or both?
Reinvention itself is an arduous process that requires considerable faculty support and student motivation initially—but most of all it is respect for and genuine interest in an indigenous art form that can lay the foundation of change.