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special
report public
art Well
rewarded Beauty
and the best
special
report Hindus, a small
minority in the Muslim-majority upper Sindh area, were on protest for the
last several months, particularly after the alleged kidnapping and forced
conversion of a Hindu girl Rinkal Kumari in February this year. Demands of
extortion, kidnapping for ransom and murder of traders who failed to pay
money were some of the key issues that compelled these otherwise peaceful
traders to go on strike. Sindhi newspapers
regularly reported the conventional protests by Hindu community in Ghotki,
Jacobabad, Shikarpur and Kashmore districts including protest
demonstrations, public meetings, press conferences and even closing down of
the businesses. However, none of these
peaceful methods of protest helped them draw the attention of the
authorities. It was only on August 8 when a convoy of more than 200 Hindus
left Sindh for Lahore to cross the border to India that the media flashed
the news with headline: “Hindus are migrating to India”. All hell broke loose after
this news. Interior Minister Rehman
Malik’s reaction was not unusual. He ordered the immigration authorities
to stop the group from crossing the Wagah border. He also went on to blame
the Indian High Commission in Islamabad for issuing visas in large number,
terming it a conspiracy against Pakistan. Obviously, the minister could not
stop them for long at the immigration office as all of them had already
acquired visit visas. Since then the issue has
got prominence at the national as well as international level, with
conflicting versions. President Asif Ali Zardari,
realising the sensitivity of the issue in his home constituency where his
arch-rival Nawaz Sharif was strengthening his allies, ordered the formation
of a parliamentary committee comprising Federal Minister for Political
Affairs Maula Bux Chandio, Senator Hari Ram Kishori Lal and MNA Lal Chand.
The committee was immediately dispatched to Sindh with the mandate to
ascertain the facts and meet Hindu leaders and listen to their grievances. The committee landed in
Sukkur the very next day to meet the leaders of the Hindu community. “We
told the committee members that we can bear all atrocities but cannot
compromise on our honour,” says Ramesh Lal, an active member of Hindu
Panchayat and one of the participants of the meeting in Jacobabad. “It’s
becoming increasingly hard for us to live in Sindh when our girls are
kidnapped and converted to Islam at gun point.” Contrary to Sindh
government’s claim of “all is well” and “Hindus in Sindh are leading
satisfactory lives,” everyone who came to meet the committee had a story
to tell. Kidnapping of girls and forced conversion were the common
complaint. The people, reportedly, burst into tears telling how they were
forced to pay the extortion money, kidnapped for ransom and forced to live
undignified lives. The committee was left
with no option but to promise that it would convey their grievances to the
president, including the controversial role of PPP MNA Mian Mitho in the
case of Rinkal Kumari. The committee also visited
a recent victim Maneesha’s home and intervened in securing a birth
certificate for her father who claims that his underage daughter was either
lured or kidnapped by a neighbouring shopkeeper who then announced her
conversion to Islam and his marriage with her. The committee members are
said to have sympathised with the victims and assured them that they would
take up all issues at the highest level. In another meeting, on
August 13, in Hyderabad, with another group of Hindu Panchayat, the members
of the civil society and the media, the committee shared its initial
findings. It made clear that the Hindu community in upper Sindh is living
under fear. Chandio, head of the
committee and a longtime PPP activist, had no explanation for the Sindh
government’s utter failure in providing protection to the Hindu community
during the last four years. He told the reporters that even though the
government doesn’t have any concrete information, unconfirmed figures
suggest that about 7,000 Hindus left for India on visit visas during the
year 2011 and 1,300 of them did never return. Interestingly, the main
agenda of the committee was to figure out whether those who recently left
for India were migrating or going on pilgrimage. But that became a secondary
issue as the participants burst out telling stories of excesses and
injustices targeting Hindus, a weaker section in the Muslim majority upper
Sindh with a tribal outlook. Lala Asad, former
president of Sukkur Press Club and a senior journalist, says: “People say
they are living insecure lives and even their honour is at risk. If that’s
the case, they wouldn’t think twice before migrating, provided they have a
chance to do so.” “No one is listening to
us,” says Babu Mahesh, president of Hindu Panchayat. “If some of us need
to migrate to India to draw the attention of the government of Pakistan, we
will continue to do so.” Babu avoided a clear reply
on whether or not those who left Pakistan recently would come back. He only
said he was disappointed to hear the ministers on talk shows on TV, saying
that the Hindus do not have any security problems. “Such tactics of
downplaying serious issues will not solve the problem. You will have to face
the reality!” Paryal Mari, a senior PPP
activist and chairman of Insaf Welfare Society, a civil society organisation
working for interfaith harmony and peace in Shikarpur, is sure the group of
Hindus who left for India recently is not going to come back. “I don’t
think they intended to migrate but it was good as a strategy to highlight
the issue.” In his view, the Hindus in
upper Sindh are financially well-off and enjoy the support and trust of the
local population in general, so migration would only be suicidal for them.
“I think the panchayat only used it as an opportunity to highlight the
issues [of the Hindus].” It is unfortunate that the
government should get working only when things get worse. It would have been
better if the committee had been formed seven months ago when a hurt Hindu
community was reeling from the Rinkal Kumari incident. Though better late than
never, the formation of the committee is being applauded. Unlike other
committees’ reports, this one has already indicated that the Hindus want
safety and security particularly of their property and honour. It is still not clear,
though, if those who recently left for India were going on a religious
pilgrimage; also, if the issue was blown up by the media or it was a
well-thought out plan of the Hindu Panchayat to draw the attention of the
government. Whatever the case may be,
the government must come up with concrete measures to ensure the safety of
the community, otherwise a particular group may come back to Pakistan but
another will have no option but to shift base to India or any other country.
public art We were on the
last leg of our holiday in picturesque Guilin, in China, when we decided to
head for a sculpture park. Upon entering the 1,320-acre Yuzi Sculpture Park
we found, to our surprise, that our family, numbering seven, was the only
group visiting the park at that time. It was amazing to have the entire
place to ourselves! The Yuzi Sculpture Park,
set amongst the famous Karst hills and caves of Guilin, has tall trees, vast
expanses of grass, and small lakes and ponds, and it is at short travelling
distance from the Li and Yulong Rivers and the rice terraces of Longji, from
where we had come. Also known as the Yuzi Paradise, the Park is in perfect
harmony with art, nature, and life, and is (rightfully) called southern
China’s crown jewel. Created as a private
estate in 1996 by a Taiwanese entrepreneur, Rhy-Chang Tsao, the Yuzi
Sculpture Park is a perfect retreat, albeit little known outside this
region. Its founder did not intend to promote it commercially. It had opened
its doors only recently to day visitors, and overnight guests were usually
those who stayed back at one of its two hotels, used the spa or were there
either for its conference facilities or for artists’ workshops. Tsao could not have chosen
a more idyllic location for fostering contemporary artistic and creative
expression. Just as the Guilin landscape has inspired Chinese artists and
scholars for centuries, so two hundred internationally recognised artists
from fifty countries have created hundreds of paintings and monumental
outdoor sculpture in this Park. Since its creation, eight International
sculpture symposia, several thematic projects and other activities of
cultural exchange and art promotion have been held here. In October 2002,
two magazines, ‘Art Collection’ and ‘Sculpture’ became co-organisers
for the first International Yuzi Sculpture Park Award. These awards help
emerging artists, and also popularise the works of established artists. The Yuzi Sculpture Park
also has a four-week in-residence programme. Artists’ residency programmes
are now common in many countries, including Pakistan, but it is still a
somewhat unique concept for China. Participating sculptors have to submit
models of their works, after which the logistics for materials and
assistants is worked out. The artists choose their preferred sites within
the Park, and many create pieces that complement a particular feature in the
enchanting landscape. The first sculpture we
came across was ‘Living World Arena’ by Ju Ming (Taiwan), depicting a
group of people akin to a colourful family gathering: men, women and
children, young and old, seated or standing, and interacting with each other
near a long and chunky stone table. My two little grand-daughters could
immediately relate with this group, as also with an equally colourful
elephant sculpture, which looked from a distance as if it was assembled with
different pieces of fabric sown together, whereas it was created in metal.
These two were perhaps the most colourfully vibrant works in the Park, as
all others retained the natural colours of the materials with which they
were created. The Park is so large that
it is not possible to walk around it on foot. The Yuzi Sculpture Park
therefore provides an eight-seater door-less minibus, with driver, for
visitors. One can climb down any number of times and go over to examine the
sculpture pieces at close range, then carry on. This visit, perhaps more
than my visits to other art museums, particularly in the West, left a deep
impression on my mind. I could not help pondering over the value that China
places on its own art and culture, as well as in promoting artistic exchange
on a global level. I was also sadly reminded of the notion of, and public
attitude towards the art which ‘beautifies’ our public places. The
comparison in our respective attitudes to art, particularly sculpture in the
public realm, merits dwelling deeper. Pakistan, it must be
acknowledged, has a rich history of sculpture dating all the way from the
Indus Valley Civilization, on to the European-Asian synthesis of Gandharan
culture in the first to third centuries. These pieces, especially the
Gandharan sculptural representations of Buddha that were excavated almost a
century ago, are eloquent carvings of artistic (and religious) significance.
It is unfortunate that we
Pakistanis have generally chosen to ignore, neglect and disrespect, even
disown this part of our heritage. What we inherited from the British, or
which came as part of some other form of assistance, even a gift from abroad
(such as the ornamental sculpture on bridges which are part of the Karakoram
Highway, built for us by the Chinese) has been removed or defaced, in spite
of the constant vigilance surrounding these structures. Ozzir Zuby and Afsar Naqvi
were two sculptors working in Karachi in the classical style in which they
had been trained. A mere handful of other Pakistani sculptors in Karachi,
Lahore and Quetta, including Rabia Zuberi, Zahoorul Akhlaq, Anjum Ayaz,
Talat Dabir and Jamal Shah found a footing in the nascent art scene of the
country, and have made their presence felt. Shahid Sajjad who, according to
renowned art critic and author Dr Akbar Naqvi “can be counted as not only
the best sculptor of the subcontinent but amongst the finest in the
world”, has been working since the 1960s. Several younger
contemporary sculptors have had successful shows in the country, while a few
have also shown their work abroad, to critical acclaim. Not too long ago,
Abdul Jabbar Gull was invited for a sponsored month-long trip to South
Korea, where he created a sculpture in black and white granite, measuring
over three metres high. However, almost all sculptural work is only seen in
shows at art galleries, or is privately commissioned work. Regrettably,
hardly any sculpture of merit by Pakistani artists occupies our public
spaces. Central to this state of
affairs is the general apathy of the state towards the education and
promotion of contemporary art. In sculpture, the portrayal of the human
figure remains problematic to us from a religious viewpoint, although it
would interest our readers to know that some of our brotherly Muslim
countries, such as Turkey and Indonesia, have no such problem. They not only
cherish their historic legacy, be it Muslim or non-Muslim, they also
actively create and promote sculptural monuments of their modern-day heroes
and statesmen. Three examples of our
anti-sculpture attitude are worth mentioning: Many years ago, the
Karachi-based sculptor Anjum Ayaz’s ‘Peace Tree’ at the Central Jail
roundabout had come as a unique and pleasant surprise. Over the years it was
vandalised, and has lately become victim of new roadworks in the area, thus
conveniently forgotten. Several other
non-figurative works by Ayaz that were installed by the DHA more recently
near the beach in Clifton, met with a fate that is shameful. These pieces
were either defaced, broken down or they disappeared completely. Not only
was public property rampantly vandalised, the mighty DHA said not a word. A colossal, 12-metre high
sculptural piece, ‘Forgotten Text’, created by Amin Gulgee, which was
placed at the famous Bilawal Chowk in Clifton, Karachi, also disappeared one
night, without a trace. No significant effort was made to locate it, or to
identify those who may have stolen it so brazenly. What passes for ‘public
art’ in Pakistan is frequently of a militaristic character or expression
of our religiosity: submarines, ships’ anchors, missiles, tanks, fighter
jets, cannons, the name of Allah in sculptural form, two swords and three
swords, and replicas of Chagai — that ill-fated mountain in Balochistan
where we tested our nuclear ‘weakness’. For us, art is not sculpture in
a peaceful park, it is weapons of war, even those we may have lost, or can
never win. Can one say more!
Well
rewarded It appears that in
the list of civil awards announced this year no one else from among the
practitioners of classical music other than Muhammad Ajmal Khan has been
named. On the surface, the
authorities cannot be faulted — because the taste in music has swung 360
degrees. Going by the opinion polls or ratings (the current buzzword), the
names included are of those who have made solid contributions to music on a
popular level. It is rare, therefore, that even Muhammad Ajmal Khan,
otherwise a capable tabla player and shagird of Ustad Shaukat Hussain Khan,
gets a chance to display his virtuosity. Most of the time he is made to
accompany all kinds of vocalists and instrumentalists. One is happy that names
like Mehdi Hasan, Ghulam Ali and Abida Parveen have been included in the
list, for the three have done yeomen service to the cause of music despite
the conditions being far from ideal. But in a way these three
great vocalists have been artistes that express mainstream musical
expression in the country. Ghazal was heard and appreciated but not fully
allowed to enter the portals of the higher forms of music as it was
considered to be basically illustrative in character with the word taking up
centre-stage, leaving the sur to adjust itself into a secondary
interpretative role. Since the beginning, with
the decline of the kheyal in Pakistan, the emphasis shifted to a greater
role of the word in the musical rendition and the ghazal started to gain
prominence. And finally a time arrived when it was considered by the
arbiters of taste to be the epitome of music in the country. Mehdi Hasan, the person
largely responsible for this (along with Fareeda Khanum and Iqbal Bano),
created an ang that was able to satisfy the educated urban middle class. He
stretched their understanding of literature and superimposed it on music —
thus judging music on the basis of a derived criterion, while the
connoisseurs of music were content in appreciating at least a greater input
of improvisation on the musical modes. Ghulam Ali was to benefit greatly
from this levelling of the path, which the likes of Mehdi Hasan has already
done. Being the first generation
in Pakistan, Mehdi Hasan and his peers had to face the situation where the
musical taste had changed overnight with kheyal and dhrupad having
absolutely lost its eminence in mainstream music. It was driven to the
margins and was at best treated as an expression of niche culture. Abida Parveen too has
helped in moving firmly the musical ang nurtured on the shrines,
particularly sung in Sindhi language, to the mainstream by starting to
render it in Urdu and in Punjabi, the popular and dominant languages of the
land. She converted the Punjabi and Sindhi kafi into a mainstream cultural
expression where both the layman and the educated starving for cultural
sustenance were equally gratified. This annoyed the pristine listeners and
upholders of the indigenous tradition, and they criticised Abida Parveen for
diluting their expression for a wider outreach. In the cases of the three
mentioned above, the initial training in the purity of the note have made
them stay true to the basics of our music and they have not abandoned or
compromised on that. All three have in their own respective ways been
committed to their craft, and have made sincere efforts to take the sur to
the people rather than strike the ideal equation of the people raising their
level and being drawn to the purity of the sur. Perhaps in this category
falls Misri Jogi, who plays the murli in the inimitable ang of Sindh. In
some ways the emphasis on the uniqueness of Sindhi culture has also made the
Sindhi musicians more aware about preserving some of their forms and
instruments. The playing of the murli can be seen in the same context. The musicians in Khyber
Pakhtunkhwa should be rewarded for their courage as well as their music —
and Ahmed Gul is no exception. This is also the
expectation of the times. Popularity and the acceptance by the greater
number being the mantra, the more popular musicians usually are the ones who
are considered to be the best. If there is a musician who may be good or
brilliant but does not appear on the mainstream media or is not readily
appreciated because of the particularity of the expression, the expectation
from such a musician is to mellow down his style, smoothen the rough edges
of his particularity of form and become more palatable in accordance with
prevalent taste. Tahira Syed and Shahida
Minni appear often on the media and in some ways reflect the mainstream
expectation of the urban middle class audiences to what a musician,
especially women musicians, are supposed to be. The combination of glamour
and music has done no harm ever to the popularity of the artiste. Of all the forms, film
music at one time was the most popular, and Wajahat Attre in making
compositions that have been popular also kept his impeccable musical lineage
untarnished. His father, Rashid Attre, was an outstanding composer who
helped in establishing the music credentials of the nascent film industry in
the country. In the case of art, there
may be a limiting clause that qualifies as to what is the image and the
voice of our national identity. Usually, if such is the criteria, then the
dice is always cast in favour of a generalised form or a mainstream
expression rather than search for the particularity of a niche expression or
of a form that may be dying but can be saved because it is significant. Though it can be said in
general that the awards should be given to those whose services and
contributions seem to be above reproach and the stature of the awards, an
award should be judged by the fact that it should be seen to acknowledge
merit.
Beauty and
the best Reports of dying
peacocks have been rife in recent days. Although not related to the
migration of Hindus from the same areas, both became “breaking news” on
the media which is otherwise focused on courtroom battles and the ensuing
commentaries. Before appearing on our TV
sets, peacock was present in our art, too. Historically, the miniature
painters picked this bird to depict a number of ideas and narratives.
Perhaps the most famous miniature with peacock is the ‘Peafowl’ painted
in ca.1610 and attributed to Mansur, the master painter from Emperor
Jehangir’s court. Along with this, the bird was represented repeatedly in
Pahari, Rajasthani and other schools of miniature, illustrating a range of
ragas and religious themes. Heir to Indian miniature
painting, the modern art of Pakistan has a peculiar approach towards the
peacock. Admired as a sign of beauty with its attractive colours merging
from one shade to the next, and patterns on his tail which appear majestic
when the bird spreads it out, the peacock has not been painted much by our
artists. One only comes across textile motifs, jewellery pieces and other
products from various fields of design and craft inspired from peacock
colours but certainly not in the realm of visual art. The only exception,
perhaps, was the art of Askari Mian Irani. The late painter frequently
incorporated hues, forms and patterns derived from peacock’s tail along
with elements from Islamic calligraphy, amulets and numerology. In a number
of paintings, he also drew peacocks either with princesses or perched on
some architectural structure. Other than him, no one seems interested in
using this symbol of beauty and repository of chromatic variety (the
commercial calligraphic painting is obviously excluded from the discussion). There could be more than
one reason for this lack of keenness to include peacocks in art; perhaps the
artists’ ideas of beauty may provide a clue for neglecting this subject.
The mere fact that peacock is an emblem of beauty may be why it’s absent
from our present art. This is an indication of how a creative person thinks
and operates regarding aesthetics. For an artist, who is searching for ideal
forms, the question of beauty is crucial on all levels (in matters of love,
relationships, physical appearance and objects in his environment). He
desires to be surrounded with pretty women (one can recall the name of
Sadequain, the dervish artist in this regard) and wants beautiful items
around him but, when it comes to art, he avoids real beauty. Although there
are cases where artists have painted beautiful models, those works are not
valued for this reason. For example, the most famous portrait since
Renaissance, Mona Lisa, is not appreciated for its pretty face but for
enigmatic smile. In many instances, the presence of beauty often mars the
creative capabilities of a painter. Actually, the matter of
beauty is extremely complex for a creative individual, since he is more
inclined to represent beauty than to reproduce it. He is seeking to shape a
work of art that has its separate standard of beauty (because what is beauty
if it is not admired by millions across cultures and ages) and, in doing so,
if he encounters absolute beauty, it may influence and affect his own vision
and aesthetics. So the struggle is to create a sense of beauty independent
of nature. The artists are inspired
by the beauty of nature or humans but when they portray a landscape or a
figurative composition, they do not replicate the most magnificent side of
their chosen subject. Thus a landscape by John Constable, Claude Monet, Paul
Cézanne or Khalid Iqbal does not reflect the most beautiful view of a scene
(often it is the other way around) nor does a figurative canvas of Vermeer,
Rembrandt, David Hockney or Jamil Naqsh present the best of human body.
Instead, these artists are aiming for a concept of beauty that exists beyond
and above its familiar examples and accepted manifestations. That is the reason the
artists, instead of copying pretty subjects or objects, try to construct
meta-beauty which, in most cases, can be a way of defacing real beauty, like
in the canvases of Pablo Picasso and Lucian Freud. Hence artistic beauty is
beyond and independent of the physical beauty of our daily experiences. So,
in several works, the artists are not even inclined to look at the
attractiveness of things because they are aware that their art will
introduce and imbibe a new version of beauty, more important than other such
entities found in nature and man-made surroundings. Therefore, in contemporary
art, the artists are more concerned about issues like terror, tyranny, power
and poverty. What keeps them engaged are themes such as war, destruction,
dehumanisation and alienation. Dark colours, depressing characters and
disgusting narratives reoccur in their art pieces because these provide a
substance to extrapolate. Thus they make works which are valued for their
level of excellence. They have moved away from the pursuit of prettiness,
indulging in themes and imagery that demands brilliance, perfection and
professionalism of another kind.
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