During the same discussion, art critic Amra Ali said that art has become insular now, while literature “is, and has been still about the social, reflecting the ethos of people’s lived experiences, and their times.” This seems to ring true as Mrs. Hashmi talks about her father, Faiz Ahmed Faiz, as a young poet harboring disillusionments, fears and frustrations with the personal and socio-political climate of the time, which translates with subtlety into poems like Tanhai that capture the lonely existence of an intelligent and sensitive mindthrough a relatable and grounded narrative. Hashmi observes how these sad truths remain relevant to this day, and how her own students don’t seem very different from the young poet in the kind ofconcerns they have today. Thus, she picks out Tanhai to act as a starting point of sorts, a source of inspiration that the participating artists react to, interpret and depict through their own unique practices – in turn providing a myriad of trajectories and points of entry. The show then becomes a sort of collaboration across time, generations and disciplines, looking at one through the other.
It is rather curious to see the title of the show translating “Tanhai” into ‘solitude’, which seems to have rather positive connotations of being alone on purpose, while the reading of the verses gives more of a sense of ‘loneliness’ that comes with a sadness for a lack of companionship. The diversity of visuals then, while intriguing, is not all that surprising. Each artist not only had their own interpretation, but a unique approach in the ways the narrative was tied to their work. Abid Aslam’s work, for example, seems to comment on the anatomy of poetry itself through its structure, medium and presentation, pulling the viewer in close to decipher the perforated surface, then moving back to make sense of the divided image as a whole. Each part stands beautiful in its own right, yet acquires a meaning beyond itself in conjunction with the rest.
Malcolm Hutcherson’s works apply the concept of loneliness to the marginalia of society and their lived experiences. The photographs successfully humanise the trans community of Pakistan without the usual two-dimensional, patronising gaze. The subjects are at once bold and resilient, yet dejected and vulnerable. They pose with command, taking control of their own portrayal, which keeps intact their personhood, yet amidst the celebratory notes one remains deeply and painfully aware of the unimaginable lives of those pushed into the margins of margins. Hutcherson talks about creating an “a-historical space, where the age of the image was indeterminate. Time becoming in a sense, flat or perspectiveless,” by placing the subjects in an imagined space that supersedes their immediate surroundings, making their aloneness an endless entity.
It is rather curious to see the title of the show translating "Tanhai" into 'solitude', which seems to have rather positive connotations of being alone on purpose, while the reading of the verses gives more of a sense of 'loneliness' that comes with a lack of companionship
Shaheera Aslam, on the other hand, relates the idea of loneliness to space rather than to people, with sombre photographs of old architecture dressed in thick cobwebs in black and white. One gets the sense of abandonment and neglect and long stretches of time passed. The angles and framing conceal specifics of location, which makes it more about the idea rather than the object. There is a strange darkness in these images, with the shadows and shades burned in thick and heavy, truly making one feel that “Now no one, no one will come here!” (verse from Tanhai, Faiz Ahmed Faiz)
Wardah Shabbir extracts a more spiritual note from the verses and truly follows it towards solitude, with perhaps a more positive reading. Her video piece, ‘Daira’, is almost meditative, with the quintessential heavenly visuals of clouds rolling by enclosed in a circular frame, interspersed with darker, heavier clouds, allowing the viewer to take out a moment of serenity and contemplate the complex vagaries of life. Natasha Malik’s video “The Inside Joke”, on the other hand, seems to speak of the loneliness and/or solitude beyond the grave, with a conversation that reads as an attempt to kill endless time with introspective dialogue, often whimsical with touches of gloom, mostly dejected, cynical and bitter, forcing one to considers one’s own mortality.
Shah Abdullah Alamee approaches the poem from the other side, however, with his narrative inspired elsewhere and developed over months, and then tied into two particular words, “khuwabeeda chiragh” (sleepy lamps) that resonated with him. He feels this dichotomous phrase is pertinent not only to his work, but to the current human condition, where there is an absence of passion or desire for change, and we are all passive enablers to our own devolution. Alamee applies a gendered argument to his narrative, which comes from the ancient Mehergarh civilisation, whose peaceful existence he attributes to its matriarchal society. Through his abstract landscapes that in a way pay homage to this bygone world, Alamee combines elements derived from masculinity, like the pagrhi, and femininity, like the scattered flower petals or the dying fish,to posit the plight of women in current society as the reason for the plight of society as a whole. His rocky, at times marine landscapes contain a serene softness that hardens into a coarse darkness, creating a dissonance within each frame, a kind of pull between opposing forces.
When asked how she herself responds to these works, Hashmi feels the artists have been able to capture the essence of her father’s poem quite successfully through diverse perspectives, and that they “cohabit quite nicely”, without compromising the unique language each artist adheres to; she seems quite satisfied with the results. One marvels at the strength of the literary piece, as it stands not only the test of time (as the poetic genius’s entire oeuvre does) but also a transmutation across concepts, discipline, themes and genres, giving birth to sublime reflections of itself.
‘Solitude’ was on display at the Koel Gallery from the 10th of April till the 19th of April, 2018.