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rights artreview The persian
lyre More
things in heaven and earth
rights Voices for carving out of a
Seraiki province comprising southern and western parts of Punjab, parts Despite the fact that the districts of southern and western Punjab are the province's most deprived, the political elite there has almost ignored to turn this deprivation into calls for political autonomy. It may be because many politicians coming from these districts have come to power, not just at Punjab level but also at Pakistan level, some of them attaining this enviable position even before Independence. If a Seraiki province comes into being, they will be having a much smaller jurisdiction, and that too comprising of only the most backward regions of the country. The most prominent of these powerful politicians were/are Nawab of Kalabagh Ameer Muhammad Khan, Ghulam Mustafa Khar and Sajjad Hussain Qureshi. The Nawab served as the governor of West Pakistan — which was a union of Punjab, Sindh, Balochistan and Frontier. Khar became both the governor and the chief minister of Punjab in quick succession and Qureshi was governor Punjab not many years ago. Sadiq Hussain Qureshi, Mushtaq Gurmani and Makhdoom Altaf are other prominent provincial/federal politicians to have come from these districts, so are Farooq Leghari and Zulfiqar Khosa who respectively remained the president of Pakistan and the governor of Punjab. Apart from this large galaxy of chief ministers, governors and an occasional president, many former and serving federal and provincial ministers also come from the same region. The Mazaris, the Legharis, the Qureishis and the Gillanis of southern Punjab have been in power since colonial times but their contribution to the development of the area is insignificant to say the least. All of them have singularly failed in improving the lot of the place they come from. Even Farooq Leghari, a powerful president who dismissed an elected prime minister without having to think about it twice has been unable to focus his development efforts beyond his native districts of Rajanpur and Dera Ghazi Khan. The neglect shown by the leaders is making the lives of local people quite miserable. Even for getting their minor complaints redressed they have to travel either to Lahore or Islamabad. Imagine the plight of someone who has to travel from Ahmedpur Sharqia or Rajanpur to Lahore to seek a solution to his everyday problems. This leads to considerable loss of time and money spent on travel and boarding/lodging. At the same time, it must be remembered that these problems are being faced only by ordinary people. The members of the region's political elite all reside in Lahore, Karachi, Islamabad and other big cities. They visit their native district only during general elections. The are far removed from their people to feel strongly about their problems. It's in this context that a recent demand raised by some parliamentarians for the setting up of a Seraiki province should be seen. But the opponents to the demand are much larger in number and some of them come from the areas being proposed to constitute the new province. They argue that the demand is being made for personal gains. Opposition from within apart, it's highly unlikely that Sindh agrees to conceded the inclusion of its areas in the proposed province. Sindhis people and politicians are very categorical that they will not allow any division of their province, come what may. Talking to The News on Sunday, Riaz Hussain Pirzada, a ruling party member of the National Assembly coming from Bahawalpur district of south Punjab, says the government has completely ignored people from his area when it came to the provision of services, infrastructure, jobs, professional education and allotment of lands. "The (princely state of) Bahawalpur joined Pakistan as result of an agreement but it is a pity that this agreement is never honoured." Pirzada says the first blow for the people in his area came when Pakistan surrendered the water of two rivers to India. "This was done without working out how agricultural lands in southern Punjab would be watered. It was for the first time in the history of the world that 100 per cent water of a river had been surrendered to another country." He says local people were completely neglected when it came to allotting land in their own district a large part of which fell in the hands of people coming from other parts of Punjab. "And this is not the end. These allottees are being provided water through perennial canals while the local people are being promised that they will get water from flood canals." Another member of the National Assembly from the ruling Pakistan Muslim League, Farooq Azam Malik, says the government should set up the new province comprising Multan, Bahawalpur, Dera Ghazi Khan districts of Punjab and seraiki speaking districts of Sindh in order to keep seraiki literature, culture and traditions alive. If a province can be subdivided in India, as is the case with East Punjab and Bengal, then why can't it happen in our country? he asks. Farooq says the new province will lessen the widespread hatred against Punjab among other provinces and will result in a better distribution of resources within Punjab. "When the national and provincial resources are distributed, Punjab gets a major share. But instead of spending them judiciously, the government directs funds to big cities like Lahore. The underprivileged areas like those in southern Punjab are always neglected." Zafar Iqbal Varaich, another legislator from the same area and the minister of state for interior, does not agree. He opposes the division of Punjab and claims that the demand to create a new province does not enjoy public support. "If this had been the case, Taj Muhammad Langah (a strong advocate of the cause) would not have suffered a humiliating defeat in the last general elections. He lost to Aitzaz Ahsan (of Pakistan People's Party) and could hardly get 2,900 votes," Zafar tells TNS. He says if the demand for a Seraiki province is accepted, then people in Potohar region will be the next to make a similar demand and the process will never end. "I don't buy the argument that the people of southern Punjab have been denied opportunities to excel. My family earned all it has now from the resources available in the part of the province we live." Akbar Vaince, another PML legislator, also dismisses the demand to divide Punjab. He says this will only lead to nothing else but a manifold increase in the government's administrative expenses. "I would get Rs 2 billion every year from the provincial government for Bahawalnagar during my tenure as district nazim. Out of this money, Rs 1.8 billion (90 per cent) were spent on running the district administration and only Rs 200 million (10 per cent) could be spared for development. We can well imagine how much more money will be required to run a provincial government, no matter how small." This type of reasoning is certainly not going to silence the proponents of a Seraiki province.
artreview What do African intellectuals read? The temptation is indeed strong to answer that question in one word: nothing. This is how an essay by
Chinua Achebe begins. If one were to ask the same question of Pakistani The seclusion of our artist in his self — or rather in his tiny (commercial) cocoon — has resulted in the production of works with repetitive imagery and subjects. Sadly, anything which can stimulate the intellect or excite the imagination is considered odd, unacceptable or a nuisance, since it can lead into the realm of the unknown. This course is not preferred by most of our artists, who feel economically vulnerable if they change the line of their accepted and saleable artworks into something new and unseen. Yet this is not the case
with everyone. Some artists do investigate new ideas, through their
investigations into visual art as well as in the world of literature. For
them literary works, whether contemporary, classic or folk, suggest unusual
dimensions of life, which can be subjects for their own creative pursuits.
Shahbaz Malik,who draws his inspiration from folk images and Sufi poetry, is
one of them. His new paintings (in exhibition from 1st to 17th September 2006 at Nomad Gallery, Islamabad) reflect an artist's struggle to formulate a visual language that can justify the poetic substance and political scenario of his locale. In order to achieve this, the painter has been making use of a number of sources — including lines from Farid, patterns of traditional textiles and the structure of carpets. In fact he blends the two — visual substance and oral material — in order to portray his inner self and the world around him. The images of camels, women in nomadic dresses, dancing figures and palm trees, repeatedly appear in his canvases. These are composed within a frame and drawn on a surface filled with a variety of motifs from his region. But what we see on his canvases is essentially a process of internalising the reality outside. All his forms, designs, colours and ways of painting them portray the present position of the painter. For many years, Shahbaz has been concentrating on his area, depicting people and their conflicts in a feudal society. In the past he has used the image of a chair to denote the division between classes; borders to show the seclusion of certain sections of population; and shrouded females to describe the situation of women. Those canvases were created with multiple layers of designs, based upon the impressions of wood blocks (originally used for printing bed sheets, table cloths and other such fabrics). His efforts to document his time and place were evident, but this visual materials (that consisted of figurative elements and conventional patterns) were a method of establishing a link between the personality of the painter and his environment. Shahbaz's new work signifies a shift in his approach. Previously, the structure of his paintings suggested a separation between areas of colours, motifs of different kinds and contours of recognisable forms; but his latest pieces indicate a change in his aesthetic. Now various shapes, patches of paint and patterns of different scale merge into each other — executed with a loose brush and harmonious chromatic scheme, pictorial traits that are related to the transformation of the artist's personality. In fact the work's connection with the maker's life is important in Shahbaz's case, because he spent years struggling to survive in a hostile environment which, according to him, was not conducive to creating art. However, his recent canvases reveal an altered attitude. Now, instead of attempting to change the situation, or to defy it, the artist is somehow making a compromise. For him, the work — in fact the act of artmaking – provides an occasion to combine the contradictory components of a culture and to search for a perfect synthesis. So conflicting ideas, diverse visuals, opposite points of views and different personalities from real life are neutralised in his paintings. Here each element loses its unique significance and seems to become part of the larger setting. This amalgamation is so complete that in some places, one is unable to distinguish the separate identity of one part. And it is the overall impact of the work that emerges as the most important visual feature of the painting. For the painter, this aspect of his work is probably a means of tackling the issues of real life — and perhaps something that cannot be resolved in reality is dealt with in his art. In addition to that, the painter appears to be aiming for ideal balance through other forms too. For this he chooses the format of a carpet. Historically the aesthetic of the carpet is about converting organic forms of nature into corresponding shapes, colours and lines. In carpets, the entire range of imagery is further combined through a boundary and border that keeps all of them in one plane. And in Shahbaz's work, too, the surrounding border seems to perform the same function. It encapsulates multiple visuals (such as the dancing females, men on camels, trees, women carrying water pots on their heads — all influenced by Saraiki poetry) and presents an overall and balanced view. All of this, which leads to a visual harmony in his paintings, is somehow equivalent to the perfect state of living, which the painter, or any sensitive artist, strives to attain. But since the realm of images is different from the actuality of life, so, for a sensible artist, each new experience, line of poetry and visual encounter opens up new dimensions and unseen possibilities.
The
persian lyre Over the years the
cultural interactions between the Iranians and Pakistanis have not been what Recently there has been a warming up of sorts, with more artists visiting Pakistan from Iran. Besides the film festivals and the exhibitions of miniature paintings, even musicians from Iran have been visiting Pakistan. The most recent visitor was Ehsan Ghadami, who gave various performances at colleges and schools in Lahore besides conducting a number of workshops and talking about the current state of music in Iranian society. Earlier this year, one group of Iranian artistes participated in the Rafi Peer Mystic Music Festival. Salar Aaghili sang the kalam of Hafiz, Rumi and Iqbal Lahori (Allama Iqbal), accompanied by the traditional instruments like the tunbak and the tar. There are man similarities
between our musical systems and that of the Iranians. Our music is based on
melody derived from the basic modes. These, according to prevalent
classifications enunciated by Bhathdhanke, are ten thaats while raags or the
melodies which emanate from these are usually embellished by the use of
graces. Iranian music is melodic and monophonic, with twelve basic modes,
dastgah, and five secondary ones, awaz. Performance is based on the idea of a
suite in a single mode in which the artiste chooses items to make a finished
composition. Actual performances generally are improvisations, incorporating
and culminating in the chosen melodic pattern, while part of the artistry is
to make a smooth transition between elements of the suite. These twelve modes
are probably only a reminder of the ancient twelve maghams (maqams) which
formed the primary classification of the musical system of ancient and
medieval Iran. According to some musicologists, the division of our saptak or the octave into seven pure and five altered notes is either derived from the Iranian scale or was shared with them in the medieval period of our histories, and it preceded a similar division which was also shared by western musical system, introduced into India by the church musicians and best exemplified by the harmonium. The standard melodic patterns of Iranian classical music are codified in something called the radif. It consists of a large body of melodies or sequences called gushes grouped by a mode. To form a suite the artist selects appropriate gushes along with classical poetry, improvised elements or original compositions. Some gushes and compositions have specific rhythms while others do not. There are different versions of the radif that different artists will use, especially for different instruments. There is a large body of classical poetry, from medieval times to the present day, available to vocalists. This is some of the world's great literature, and the flowing timeless intensity of an Iranian singer will bring these fine poems to life. Most of the poems are rhythmically free, but follow an internal rhythmic of phrasing and are generally performed within the context of a suite of gushes taken from the radif. Although classical poetry is largely medieval and the codification of the radif is relatively modern, the musical forms are believed to date from the days of classical Persian. Iranian music has managed to sustain itself in recent decades despite political repression, and looks to be undergoing a burst of creativity. The musical instruments that are used in Iranian music, too, are quite familiar, at least in name if not in form and sound, because they are often mentioned in our classical poetry. Ud, ney, tanbur, santur, daf, tunbak, tar, dota, sehtar and kamancheh are some of he instruments commonly used even today by the musicians who play Iranian music. Ehsan Ghadami is the son of Muhammad Ali Ghadami, who has the status of an ustad among the musicians of his country. As in our culture, he too was taught by his illustrious father in the traditional ustad-shagird style but now has the confidence and stature to stand on his own as an independent singer/musician. The performances that he gave, singing the kalam of the famous Persian poets and accompanying himself on the sehtar, amply demonstrated a powerful well-trained voice. He also gave a good account of himself in the large size daf that he played. It appears that since the revolution the classical forms have made some kind of a resurgence .It must be noted that music or musicology (elm e musighy) as a branch of mathematics was always held in high esteem in Iran as opposed to the music performance (tarab, tasneef, navakhteh, muzik), which has had an uneasy and often acrimonious relationship with religious authorities. Iran also shares the social and culture peculiarities, bordering on contradictions, of our history. In ancient Persia musicians held socially respectable positions. During the Parthian era gosan or troubadours were highly sought after entertainers and probably Rodaki, the famous poet, was one of them. By the time the Sassanid came to power musicians were held in exalted positions and only the names of musicians from among all the practitioners of fine arts have come down to us. Mani was a painter and Burzoe a literary and medical figure, but their names have survived for reasons other than their art. Farhad was a famous sculptor but is known for his tragic love affair with a queen. The Iranians know about the master musicians Barbad, Sarkad Ramtin, and Natikka as musicians, and it was Barbad who created the musical traditions that were to transform into the magham tradition and eventually the dastgah system. Even after Islam, Zaryab is credited with being the greatest influence on Andalusian and Spanish music, Frabi and Avicenna were adept at the lute and ney respectively. But in the later period music started being viewed with suspicion.
More
things in heaven and earth I still remember buying my
first album, it was Bon Jovi's 'Slippery When Wet'. I had a song of theirs Back then what made me buy it for the first time was the lyrics to the songs. They were narrative, story-like, unlike the other drivel I had heard before. Over time when I discovered Bruce Springsteen I discovered the same quality in his lyrics, except they were less rock'n'roll. It was interesting to read years later that Jon Bon Jovi had cited him as one of his primary influences in writing songs. So as I grew older I began to sympathise with a good deal of the content of the songs I listened to, and marvelled at the power of arty entertainment. I remember being intrigued, and still feel that way, when I used to listen to songs that were essentially about nothing but seemed incredibly powerful, like today's 'Crazy' by Gnarls Barkley. Analysing songs, talking about them, was really important to me. I used to talk to both Zeeshan Parvez and Sarmad Ghafoor a lot about the stuff we liked in common (both are now successful musicians). At about the same time I started to read Nadeem Farooq Paracha and used to marvel at how he would discuss music, politics, history and culture within the breadth of one sentence. I really got into Pakistani music when I discovered Junoon. I awaited each album with bated breath. From that I went and started listening to a lot of Pakistani music and really enjoyed. But I never thought I would have anything to do with music, other than my one misguided attempt at learning to play the guitar. I was saddened by my total lack of talent. Getting in the media through the context of music was totally by accident. Zeeshan Parvez was starting a programme and asked me to be in it. If it weren't for him, I wouldn't be up there. So being opinionated was what really helped me, as opposed to any real qualifications for commenting on music or conducting a show around it. But odd as it sounds, I really don't love music all that much. It's one of the things I find interesting, but you won't find me listening to it all the time. What really intrigues me is what musical trends can say about your society, its part of the fabric that reflects social mores. One thing that I love about music is decidedly non-musical. I love observing the creative process and trying to discern the method to an almost divine birthing process of music creation. I really envy that because I imagine it is the most therapeutic form of self expression. I have spent years without listening to music at all because I find it boring, and then someone or the other comes out with the next wave of innovation that gets me hooked again. It happened to me when Nirvana, the Black Eyed Peas, E.P., Noori and The Darkness broke out. Likewise I am totally excited at the possibility that Haniya and Zeb will release more material. My tastes in music are frankly quite narrow, in fact if I were to analyse myself they are actually quite pedestrian. I love the whole era of the '80s and early '90s. I find the commercial music from that age to have a lot of staying power and art. Ultimately, and here I am a bit of an ingrate, I would ultimately not like to be known just for my work on music. What I am most fond of is my previous work as an academic working as a university lecturer, that engagement with ideas, dialectics and students has made me most happy at a personal level. The canvas of music is too narrow, and there are more important things out there to be worked on, like being a part of society and finding ways to make your life relevant beyond narrow existence and self betterment. |
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of upper Sindh and Dera Ismail Khan district of the North West Frontier
Province (NWFP) are getting louder. But somehow the political elite of these
parts of the country has never felt strongly about the demand. Most of the
legislators hailing from these areas being proposed to become part of a
seraiki province are affiliated with political parties — like Pakistan
People's Party, Pakistan Muslim League and Muttahida Majlis-e-Amal — hardly
associated with the cause.
painters, the answer is likely to be identical. However, one can argue that
artists do not need to read, since they work in a visual medium, and too much
indulgence in the world of literature may hamper their creative ability or
turn their works into illustrative exercises. But besides this question of
reading books, it is often observed that most of our artists do not even care
to use their eyes to study their surroundings or even to look at the works of
other visual artists.
they should have been, considering that Iran and Pakistan have so much in
common, particularly in the fields of painting, literature and music, that it
almost builds up to being case of a shared heritage.
on a Top of the Pops VHS that I had listened to timeless times. It was a TDK
tape for Rs. 30.