special report
Survival route
The foremost condition of Pakistan's survival as a decent entity is that the state of martial rule is brought to an end forthwith and the ownership of the state reverts to the people
By I. A. Rehman
The public reaction to Benazir Bhutto's assassination -- shock, grief and anger -- has no precedent in Pakistan's history. In this there are many lessons for all those who wish to plan a better future for the unfortunate people of our thoroughly misgoverned land.

tribute
His heart in music
An important aspect of Saeed Malik's writings was his personal involvement with the music and musicians of Lahore that led him to learn and play music
By Sarwat Ali
Saeed Malik who died last week was a self educated musicologist. For the last thirty years he wrote tirelessly on the various problems and issues that needed to be debated about music in the Pakistani environment.
His interest in music went back to his childhood when, as a young boy, he sneaked in and listened to some of the most well-known musicians in the walled city of Lahore. There he also learnt to play the sitar and, till late, small mehfils were held regularly in his house where musicians and music lovers just drifted in and out. This was in line with the culture of the walled city where certain baithaks were known for cultural activity and no invitation was needed. The participation was also not limited to the ability of buying a ticket. In these open baithaks, the interest in the field was the best credential for participation.

The spirit of age
Imran Ahmad's work depicted that sculpture is a means to dwell upon ideas and search for creative solutions with a present day vocabulary
By Quddus Mirza
Imran Ahmad's exhibition, recently held at Alhamra Art Gallery, Lahore, exuded a visual experience one is likely to have at a poultry shop. At the chicken shop, butcher slaughters the bird, skins it and chops its body into various chunks of meat. A cruel operation otherwise, we have become quite familiarised with it.

The hollow and the whole
The simplicity or conciseness of Rice's work is the result of condensation of contents, which is possible after only years of hard work
By Aasim Akhtar
When discussing the characteristics of Michael Rice's works, it helps to understand him better if we categorise his works into bottles, bowls, and vessels. Such categorisation is, of course, not based on the types or shapes of his works, but based on differences in physical elements that make up each piece that depicts his method of expression. The physical elements of the shapes of Rice's vessel may be considered relatively simple.


 

The public reaction to Benazir Bhutto's assassination -- shock, grief and anger -- has no precedent in Pakistan's history. In this there are many lessons for all those who wish to plan a better future for the unfortunate people of our thoroughly misgoverned land.

The first reason for the people's massive outpouring of grief is perhaps their realisation that the vacuum in leadership now is greater and more grievously damaging than before -- say, at the passing of the Quaid-i-Azam, the assassination of Liaquat Ali Khan or the murder of Zulfikar Ali Bhutto. On each of its earlier bereavements, the nation could look up to some eminent politicians to fill the void, at least reasonably well if not adequately. The public frustration at the absence of leaders it can trust cannot easily be described. And this leads to two conclusions.

First, by suppressing politics the country's successive dictators have made the rise of trustworthy political leadership impossible. The nurseries of political cadres, especially of the democratic variety, have been laid waste after every 9-10 years. Had normal politics been allowed political parties would have moved towards maturity, their bonds with the people would have become unbreakable, and good crops of party cadres would have thrown up leaders capable of steering the ship of state through unexpected storms. The enormous loss caused to national politics by authoritarian rulers by demonising representative politicians constitutes the first charge on the regime's indictment.

The foremost condition of Pakistan's survival as a decent entity is that the state of martial rule is brought to an end forthwith and the ownership of the state reverts to the people.

Secondly, public grief at Benazir Bhutto's martyrdom should remind the powers that be that political leaders, regardless of the establishment's view of their policies, are national assets and deserve to be protected and respected as such. Something of this popular sentiment mercifully touched quite a few of Benazir Bhutto's political opponents and they joined the caravan to Naudero. But a more lasting lesson is the need for inter-party tolerance. Pakistan's governments have given priority to destroying their political challengers and have not balked at liquidating them if other methods to neutralise them -- bribery, cooption, harassment, detention, prosecution in courts -- have failed. All such tactics must be abandoned, if Pakistan is to turn the corner, and the life and security of every political leader, especially of those in opposition, must be duly respected and scrupulously protected.

The lesson from mob attacks on state property -- railway tracks, railway stations, election offices, etc -- is quite obvious. These incidents, again unprecedented, indicate that the people's alienation from the state is assuming the form of hatred for it. Perhaps the common citizen's view of the state apparatus that it is an engine of oppression has hardened. Since he finds the channels of peaceful protest and pleading blocked he gives vent to his feelings, whenever opportunity occurs, by destroying state property, the property of the 'other'. For this public posture, too, the system of absolute rule is, in a great measure, responsible. The remedy does not lie in punishing some miscreants the incompetent administration may choose to catch, it lies in doing away with the highly centralised rule all unrepresentative regimes have been (to a much greater extent than the worst of elected governments) and in keeping the grievance channels open to the people. Another call that Pakistan must return to the democratic path sooner rather than later.

The raids on financial institutions and shops and incidents of looting should persuade everybody to examine two aspects of the ground reality. First, poverty and a sharp decline in the morality of the state and its functionaries, top to bottom, have freed a large population of the constraints of propriety and self-discipline.

Ordinary people tend to justify their occasional (and even frequent) thieving if they find the state given to plundering and brigandage.

This situation lends priority to the establishment of a duly transparent and accountable regime and the establishment of institutions, mechanisms, and processes that could arrest the growing impoverishment of the masses.

The second lesson from widespread incidents of looting and arson is the need to relieve the administration of the shackles imposed by praetorian outfits. Such regimes completely undermine the minds and decision-making faculties of state functionaries, particularly at the base level where direct contact with the people is more common than at any other level. Since everything is decided at the top of the hierarchy officials in the field do not know whether to treat a law-breaker as a 'miscreant' or as an agent of 'people's power' (read Gen Musharraf's statement on May 12 mob violence or Arbab Ghulam Rahim's fulminations against the Sindh High Court judges). It is the height of naivete, real or assumed, to expect the public to respect the law if all laws, and the basic law itself, can be bent, altered, scrapped and replaced to suit the whim, caprice and vanity of a single individual.

Further, the regime's failure to meet the threat from militants has freed the less responsible sections in society, and they may now constitute a majority, of any respect for and fear of the law. Many see in this failure evidence of the regime's collusion with at least some elements among the terrorists. Unfortunately, the regime continues to betray its lack of realisation that its bunglings in FATA and Swat embolden gangsters in Karachi, Gujrat and Lahore to take liberties with the lives and property of hapless citizens.

The grim reality today is that the state is a shambles. Just as it was in 1971. The only difference is that what could be seen by everyone 36 years ago is not visible to many now, especially to those in power, for the short-sightedness of incumbents is a universal phenomenon. And that makes the task of picking up the pieces harder than ever.

And yet quite a few troupes will woo the people on the strength of their trade mark recipes. The call for continuity is likely to be renewed but now is the time to make a break -- a break with the tradition of surrender to autocracy, a break with the habit of inter-party squabbles. The survival logic demands change at the top, installation of a government of national consensus and reconciliation for the purpose of holding a free, transparent and democratic election and to assure the people that they can regain the ownership of Pakistan. This will not happen if the people make the mistake of lowering their guard instead of making it impregnable.

 


tribute
His heart in music

  By Sarwat Ali

Saeed Malik who died last week was a self educated musicologist. For the last thirty years he wrote tirelessly on the various problems and issues that needed to be debated about music in the Pakistani environment.

His interest in music went back to his childhood when, as a young boy, he sneaked in and listened to some of the most well-known musicians in the walled city of Lahore. There he also learnt to play the sitar and, till late, small mehfils were held regularly in his house where musicians and music lovers just drifted in and out. This was in line with the culture of the walled city where certain baithaks were known for cultural activity and no invitation was needed. The participation was also not limited to the ability of buying a ticket. In these open baithaks, the interest in the field was the best credential for participation.

An important aspect of Saeed Malik's writings on music was his personal involvement with the music and musicians of Lahore. His has not been an academic flirtation but an involvement that has led him to learn and play music. In this process he got to know musicians of all grades and shades, from the most reputable ustads to those struggling, whom no one wanted to know and who died nameless and unsung.

Malik has been a witness to the music soirees which were held at the YMCA in the 1930s and also the musical gatherings in Barkat Ali Mohammedan Hall, the Takiya Mirasiaan, SPSK Hall alongwith other innumerable baithaks that underpinned the framework of cultural activity in the city. These baithaks were run by Barkat Ali Khan, Mubarak Ali Khan in Hira Mandi, Babu Mairaj Din in Moti Bazar, Ustad Barkat Gotebaaf inside Masti Gate, Ustad Khurshid Butt in Bhatti Gate, Allah Ditta in Shahalam Gate, Master Qamar Din and G.A. Farooq in Misri Shah.

All this was before partition and to most people these names may sound alien but not to the author who has lived through the decades and seen and experienced the vicissitudes of time. One of the purposes of writing was to make people aware of their great inheritance so as to make an effort to not only safeguard that inheritance but also to create conditions to foster and promote those glorious traditions.

A large number of musicians arrived in Lahore after partition and more than compensated for the loss of migration. The loss of Pundit Amarnath, Shayam Sunder, Gobind Ram, Lachi Ram, Dhanni Ram was more than balanced by the arrival of Ustad Sardar Khan, Ustad Akhter Hussain Khan,  Bundoo Khan, Nazakat Ali Salamat Ali, Amanat Ali Fateh Ali, Bhai Lal and Ghulam Hassan Shaggan. There were musicians who were already in Lahore like Bade Ghulam Ali Khan, Inayat Bai Dheerowali, Shamshad Begum, Sohni, Alamgir Khan, Sadiq Ai Mando and all these made up the Lahore music scene in which Saeed Malik soaked himself.

In Pakistan the passion or the interest of a person do not become his profession so Saeed Malik worked in the United States Information Service for bread and butter while his heart lay in music. He started writing seriously about music in the early 1980s and soon was recognised as a knowledgeable and a judicious presence. He mostly wrote for newspapers and magazines, in the process publishing four books on music: 'The Musical Heritage of Pakistan', 'The Muslim Gharanas of Musicians, Lahore', 'Its Melodic Culture and Lahore', 'A Musical Companion'.

Music has a very old tradition in our culture and civilization but its history and development has been shrouded in either mythological explanations or in the religious definitive. Its gradual evolution has never been tracked down properly with the result that wide gaps have bade perceived explanations not really based on documentary evidence. The nature of music too has added to the difficulty and complexity of documenting music for it only exists in time and not in space; the technology to document music as it was performed and sung is not more than hundred years old. The previous documentation in words cannot be considered primary but is only a secondary source.

In the last thousand years or so, civilization in India developed on parallel lines while integrating at some points. Parallel development was considered necessary to keep the religion pure and the ruling classes distinct, but some of it was the result of the difficulties that were not readily surmountable. Most of the people did not know both Persian and Sanskrit. Those who knew Persian tapped into its sources and those who knew Sanskrit dipped into its pool and insisted on the continuous and unbroken tradition in their respective areas. The scholarship of music too suffered on account of this parallel development. Musicologists did not bother to find out what was written in the text of the language that they did not know.

Music was such a specialised art that its scholarship usually took place in isolation from what was happening in society at large and with the other forms of art. Actually in India all the art forms in varying degrees seemed to have developed in isolation from each other. The musicians or musicologists had not written about what was happening in poetry, painting and architecture and likewise the poets and the painters too did not express their opinions regarding music as well.

Saeed Malik saw with concern the rapidly changing musical landscape after partition and the patronage variation in India and Pakistan. While the establishment in India decided to capitalise on their heritage and recast it according to contemporary taste and cultural requirements of an independent state, in Pakistan it was left to wither on the vine. He wrote about the contribution of the Muslim musicians to create some balance between what was being published in India and consistently lobbied for more patronage and attention by the ruling classes of the country to music, especially its classical forms and continued to do so till the very end.



The spirit of age

By Quddus Mirza

Imran Ahmad's exhibition, recently held at Alhamra Art Gallery, Lahore, exuded a visual experience one is likely to have at a poultry shop. At the chicken shop, butcher slaughters the bird, skins it and chops its body into various chunks of meat. A cruel operation otherwise, we have become quite familiarised with it.

In a similar manner, acts of violence and terrorism have become part of our daily routine. 21st century started with the term terrorism, turning into a widely used word and vehemently chased target. After 9/11 many incidents of violence happened in our surroundings and other places, but the most shocking was the devastating death of Benazir Bhutto, that shook the whole nation, actually majority of the globe. The consequences and effects of that murder are unimaginable; still this was a continuation, rather culmination of other attempts to eliminate her (like the explosion in her procession in Karachi). Once the news was announced, every heart bled, every eye wept and the whole nation went into a state of mourning, without anybody directing it to do so.

It was an ironic coincidence that I went to see Imran Ahmad's solo exhibition: 'Implode' in the morning and heard the bulletin of Bhutto's assassination in the evening. Within the span of a few hours the works displayed at Alhamra began to iterate their meaning and relevance. Installations with guns and parts of eyes, and surgical instruments indicated the real situation in the Islamic Republic, which appeared more grave and grim after the unforgettable assassination of Benazir Bhutto.

Even if we detach the installations of Imran Ahmad from the crime that shattered the nation (as the exhibits were created prior to it - actually one piece was made during his residency in Sri Lanka), the work affirmed the power of art, which does not illustrate a specific event yet represents the spirit of its age. The artist used (casts of) arms in several works, mainly because violence has emerged as the sign of our time, and the tool of terror, such as AK 47 and Kalashnikovs are truly representative items of this epoch.

These weapons played a major part in his work. In one of the installations a gun was sliced into different sections and all pieces were hung, next to a medical sample of eye - with all its parts opened and placed at the level of the gun. The weapon and body parts faced each other, thus establishing a link between the mechanical device and the human organ - a connection that had other connotations as well. Since both, barrel of the gun and cornea point towards their target; the former destroys its subject and the latter captures its image.

Similarly, in another exhibit, parts of a rifle were suspended in front of various surgical instruments. Again both these objects had a relationship, as these two penetrate in human flesh; one to annihilate, while the other to revive and cure. However both items are handled by the human fingers and in most cases draw blood in their course. Besides all these obvious associations, this large equipment also conveyed an element of lyricism through the overlapping of steel tools in varied shapes and sizes. The scheme of putting two essential and ordinary items from our surroundings (AK47 and medical instruments) enriched the impact of this work and led to more than one interpretation of the piece.

Probably the other interpretation was connected with communication between two alien bodies. Although he picked different objects/symbols from today's society, the way of placing these suggested a state of dialogue. The juxtaposition of eye and gun - the rifle and doctors' tools signified a kind of interaction between opposite entities in each work. The aspect of dialogue or communication was more pronounced in some other pieces on display; for instance 'Monologue' in which a large structure with two chairs and microphones was constructed. Material, shape and colour of that piece reminded of industrial products, and viewers were encouraged to act as participants. However contrary to its title, the sound transmitted through speakers and the presence of microphones and two pieces of furniture were more about a dialogue than the monologue.

The subject of communication was dealt with in another work, also fabricated like a mechanical item. On a flat surface, different icons and letters from a cellular phone were transcribed. The size and font of text (details that are so mundane that when we use the mobile, often we do not acknowledge them, yet they stand for our emotions, feelings and intimate thoughts) were composed in an immaculate manner. The placement of words, arrows and other signs from the cell phone resembled the pattern of a map -- perhaps the layout of our contemporary world, in which one does not have to move physically as long as one can reach others through the mobile technology.

Imran Ahmad's work in its entirety, depicted that sculpture or art is not only an excuse to show off one's skill or commitment of years; instead it is a means to dwell upon ideas, and search for creative solutions with a present day vocabulary. The visual language adapted by Imran, corresponded to his theme as well as reflected our contemporary culture. We are surrounded by pre-fabricated objects, mechanical tools and industrial products. So in order to portray his world, Ahmad decided to rely upon the items that represent our epoch. Hence the mere act of deconstructing and arranging these in certain order communicated his content. The theme was one which most of us can identify and associate with -- we are living in an environment which can explode any moment, if we are not going to stop multiple explosions happening right, left and centre.


The hollow and the whole

By Aasim Akhtar

When discussing the characteristics of Michael Rice's works, it helps to understand him better if we categorise his works into bottles, bowls, and vessels. Such categorisation is, of course, not based on the types or shapes of his works, but based on differences in physical elements that make up each piece that depicts his method of expression. The physical elements of the shapes of Rice's vessel may be considered relatively simple.

However, the meaning of 'simple' is merely an expression of language that does not have the same meaning in the spiritual dimension. In a group of society with a common culture and knowledge, symbolic messages such as signs and letters are expressed in a simplified and abbreviated way, and can be explained by making the contents inside as abundant and the expression as simple as possible.The simplicity or conciseness of Rice's work is the result of condensation of contents, which is possible after only years of hard work. It is an expression only he can produce.

Michael Rice recalls his empathy for ceramics began in 1993. As a young maker he knew he preferred ceramic form as one for contemplation, not necessarily function. This clarity of purpose was to gain dividends for him in later artistic life. Born in Ireland, from the beginning, Rice viewed his formal education in ceramics as a positive time. "I loved throwing on the wheel in Belfast Institute. In fact, I enjoyed turning more than even throwing. It opened doors encouraging me to articulate thoughts and perceptions. It pushed and pulled me in different directions; to explore and test limits." As a student of ceramics, he embraced process. "In the first and second year, we did a lot of Raku firing. In the third year, I developed the 'juddering' style purely by accident. I was turning on the wheel when I kept getting judders in little pieces."

After brief stints in Hong Kong, Thailand and Cambodia, Rice landed in Australia where he pursued pottery. "I decided to undertake post graduate diploma in ceramics in Ireland. Free from constraint, I was able to once again enjoy the sense of liberation when one is able to investigate new work again with a fresh approach, stripping back form to a simple purity. That's when I first started working with terra sigillata."

Rice finished his diploma in 2002-3 and since then he emerged stronger in his convictions. "I had read the Gestalt theory which is about the visual psychology. Your brain is much more interested in the curved form. I like to make forms that flow. I don't necessarily mind my forms being angular, but I hate corners. My forms are basically about the continuation of a line or curve."

In his recent body of work, Michael Rice strikes a dialogue with clay around the subject of water. The earthen element is called on to evoke the sensual fluidity of the other. These works also represent a mature sensibility and capability -- the outcome of years spent exploring form and surface. These alarmingly thin, clay coracles have satin exteriors that are the result of patient burnishing, rubbing the leather hard clay with a smooth stone. The relentless pounding of water is incorporated tacitly. Roundness begets roundness, as Rice works the clay with a tool the ocean has rounded for him. They are then sawdust fired, with varying densities of sawdust or chaff, to produce a sleek, sometimes mottled finish. They bring to mind the seamless gloss of the fur on a wet harbour seal, black with dappled spots from light filtered through the ocean's surface.

In this work, the contrast of his remarkable surfaces becomes a vehicle for the most important line around each of his vessels -- the edge. It is as if he has built the somber interior and the luminous exterior from their meeting place. The edge, in these works, becomes aural, a phrase played on a fretless instrument that repeats as it travels. Perhaps Rice hums this line as he works the clay. In two dimensions, the vessel's edge would be a gestural line; in three, it is animated and interactive. Each edge undulates to suggest an endless variety and combination of profiles: blunt, sharp, aggressive, spent. The gathered fleet of vessels gives the impression of movement and even seems to generate its own light.

Clip on spotlights and freshly painted plinths seem egregious in comparison to Rice's luminous and mysterious surfaces. These vessels are not made for the stark minimalism of galleries, or stylish photographic settings where they float without context or reviews. They are made for human company. They are meant to be held with care, with every sense wide open, with rapt attention. I can imagine a performative element, a gallery filled with people, each holding one of these vessels. Paul Mathieu wrote: "Craft objects are not intended to be exhibited. That is not how they operate, nor how they are meant to be experienced."

The effects of Michael Rice's vessels correlate to and evoke primacy in name and appearance. A 'bark' brown with a white tracery mimics the oak cortex yet artistically extrapolates its own organic identity. Coruscated crater effect project a lichen-highlighted moonscape. A high gloss, glowing effect hints at the geologic formation of the Potohar plateau and radiates an innate heat which the mind struggles to deny. In opposition, misty amber evokes collisions of distant gaseous galaxies. The forms are not overtly shell-like but evoke these associations as the somber outside contrasts brilliance: crusty old abalones arched over opalescent sheen, muddy clamshells lined with the wash of a sunrise, a barnacled oyster harbouring a pearl. Rice's vocabulary has unconsciously, if not consciously, drawn on the rich surrounding resource he has ever been a part of.

What Rice looks at can be contrasted with what he does not. In his work there is no sense of allegiance to ceramic history, nor is there anything that smacks of the latest theories of post-modernist thought; there's no irony, no images, no narrative. This doesn't mean that he is disdainful of the wide and persuasively influential contemporary world - just the opposite, but it indicates that he has followed his own instincts and chosen to focus on what is meaningful to him. In his recent works, Rice has concentrated on a strict development of form. Having established his initial idea for a work, an idea based on a real object or on a drawing of a real object that has been transformed in his sketchbook, the problem-solving activity begins. Rice's great delight comes from meeting the challenge of figuring out how to actually construct a piece. Through drawing, he works out possibilities of how to construct, for example, the counterpart of the cross-section of the bone, and how to make things that require much technical experimentation look like they simply formed themselves.

There are many cross-currents, in Michael Rice's work, contrasts between the intricate techniques and processes invented to produce simple, almost minimal forms, between the reality of nature and abstraction, between rough and smooth textures, between solidity and airiness. And all of these contrasts may be found in a single piece. It is interesting to see how a finished piece might be a depiction of a particular reality and yet, because of the way Rice's work blurs distinctions, appear as a truly abstract form.

"Instead of glazing, I often 'smoke fire' my pieces. My forms are very precise whereas smoke firing is very random. So, I feel a kind of balance is struck between control and the lack of it."

Some pieces give the feeling of being sliced off at the top edge, which emphasises the flatness of the top, reveals the wall construction and sharply defines the contrast between the exterior and interior. It originates in the idea of the cross-section: the way an animal bone, cut in half, reveals the labyrinthine structure of the bone marrow, or the way a severed pipe reveals its clogged interior with a tiny air passage left in the middle.

As for what we have yet to make - discoveries are incrementally propulsive, like little tailwinds, raising the ante of our expectations, and eventually there we are, holding pieces better than we might have imagined. Where would we rather be on kiln opening day than reaching out for a still-warm bottle, its birth-heat little above that of the maker's hand meeting it?

(Michael Rice, whose work has featured on the British Studio Pottery website and in Ceramic Review, was invited by Shazia Mirza, Head of the Ceramics Department at the NCA in 2006 to conduct workshops, teach and work in Lahore. Rice has been a regular visitor to Pakistan, since).

 


 

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