Hanging Fire: Contemporary Art from Pakistan
Asia Society and Museum
New York, NY
10 Sept 2009 – 3 Jan 2010

featuring work by Hamra Abbas, Bani Abidi, Zahoor ul Akhlaq, Faiza Butt, Ayaz Jokhio, Naiza Khan, Arif Mahmood, Huma Mulji, Asma Mundrawala, Imran Qureshi, Rashid Rana, Ali Raza, Anwar Saeed, Adeela Suleman, and Mahreen Zuberi

By Rea Cris

In 1947 Pakistan gained its independence out of a partition of the Indian subcontinent at the end of British colonial rule and has since had what most would agree to be a turbulent history.  Its history and future provide a rich palette for its artists to draw from: civil war, military coups, Taliban insurgencies, religious fundamentalism and urbanization, to name a few.   This exhibit is the first major US exhibition of contemporary Pakistani art. It is a compact and intense exhibit, both in it’s subject matter and media with 15 artists exhibiting.  Curated by one of Pakistan’s most respected and influential figures, Salima Hashmi, the exhibit serves as a window not only into trends of contemporary Pakistani art but more strikingly into current emotions and beliefs.  The press release sets the tone: “The exhibition’s title, Hanging Fire, refers to an idiom that means ‘to delay decision.’ In the context of the exhibition, the title evokes the idea of delaying judgment, particularly based on assumptions or preconceived notions about contemporary society and artistic expression in Pakistan”.

There is an open dialogue about the relationships between tradition and modernization, religion and popular culture. Imran Qureshi’s ‘Moderate Enlightenment’ series borrows the tradition of Mughal miniature paintings to depict religious people in everyday activities; a man in jeans, a veiled woman with her handbag, images loaded with risky connotations.   Hamra Abbas’s ‘Ridez’ is a Buraq (also known as Al-Buraq) – a winged creature resembling a horse, most commonly represented as having the head of a woman and the tail of a peacock, is known as the steed of the prophet Muhammad.  The exhibit explains that to date there are no three dimensional depictions of this mythical creature, although it is a popular image seen everywhere in Pakistan. The curator Hashmi explains that it is a ‘culturally loaded icon’ and the work is an obvious beacon of traditional-narratives-meets-modern-commodity, but it is so sumptuous, so tempting with its luscious fuchsia coloring that it is simply quite exquisite.  Abbas’s Buraq comes full circle from sacred religious symbol to cheap plastic commodity to revered work of modern art, yet the final product simultaneously retains its religious aura as well as its tempting tactile consumerist desire. 

Many of the artists do not shy away from highly taboo subjects and if anything address them with open honesty and dare to push boundaries that little bit further. Anwar Saeed’s work dances between primitive folk art and fauvism with bright, bold colors.  Although not originally intended for public display, ‘A Book of Imaginary Companions’ shows Saeed’s healing process after surviving the attack which killed fellow artist Zahoor Ul Akhlaq.  While in hospital he read ‘I, Pierre Seel, Deported Homosexual’, the true autobiography of a French 17 year old held in a Nazi concentration camp for suspected homosexuality. Saeed felt an affinity to the pain described and began to draw directly onto the pages of the book to mirror his own sentiments. The work is a mesmerizing Technicolor catalogue of companions; naked men with prominent erections in embraces, the kitsch bible of gay love.  Visual influences range from traditional sources of folk and religious art as well as modern sources such as underwear catalogues and sports magazines. Saeed says: ‘The actual purpose of creating these drawings was to get pleasure, pleasure of somebody’s physical presence, in some space in my mind and on the pages of this book’. 

On the opposite end of the spectrum, Adeela Suleman’s work addresses the status and role of Muslim women.  With humor she presents her straightforward solution to the risks women take riding motorcycles side-saddle for the sake of modesty. Working with urban artisans she produces exquisitely made and quirky motorcycle gear from domestic utensils and kitchen gadgets. She creates a kitsch haven of funnels, bowls, pots and pans all transformed into towering helmets, not too dissimilar to other-worldly temples, lushly decorated with patterns, flowers and symbols. The helmets are a symbol of double entendre for protection; they act not only as protective gear but reference women as the guardians of the home and traditions.  Suleman is much more pragmatic: “Form can be vague and contain immeasurable meanings. It is found objects that fascinate and motivate me. How one can change their meaning and form by simply putting them in a different context. How careful placement of these mundane objects can bring them into the realm of art”.

While some artists approach topics with light-heartedness and visual reflections of the colorful culture of Pakistan, there are still sobering reminders of reality.  Ali Raza’s painting/collage, ‘No Two Burns are the Same’ could run the risk of being a heavily politicized statement, but succeeds in transmitting an emotion rather than an agenda. Based on a photograph of a lawyer’s demonstration in 2007 to establish judiciary independence, the image is a somber mosaic of paint and burnt paper, snippets of newspapers and the almost overlooked image of a city in flames. The image transmits the intensity of physical pain; its surface an aesthetic texture – more like scabs and wounds rather than paint and paper.  Rashid Rana’s ‘Red Carpet 1’ is technically impressive as the image of a Persian rug is composed of hundreds of miniature photographs. On closer inspection these photographs depicting blood and concert floors immediately put the viewer ill at ease; is it human blood, torture and death?  The images are from a goat slaughterhouse in Lahore which the artist visited on the same day as ex-Prime Minister Benazir Bhutto’s homecoming turned suicide-bombing carnage. The correlation between these two events evokes our increasingly easy manner of becoming desensitized to disturbing events and images whether they be human or animal.

This exhibit celebrates the fact that these artists are anything other than Pakistanis, many having returned to live in Pakistan after study or living aboard.   Rather than conform to a universal trend, these artists have created their own visual vocabulary which is unapologetically saturated in their culture and history.  Strangely one of the country’s most respected modern artists, the assassinated Zahoor Ul Akhlaq’s work is the most generic and dated. Rather than exude a personal insight or Pakistani flavor, Ul Akhlaq’s paintings could easily belong to any artist from any nationality. So what this exhibit has succeeded in doing is giving us ‘westerners’ a safe haven for exploring and dissecting this country and its contemporary art scene in order to better understand it. Instead of statements and rebukes, it invites dialogue and interaction.  The question now is ‘where to next’ for these artists.

Quotes from Press Release on the Asia Society Website.

http://sites.asiasociety.org/hangingfire/

Hamra Abbas   www.hamraabbas.com

Imran Qureshi http://www.corvi-mora.com/imranqureshi_window.php?0

Adeela Suleman http://www.aicongallery.com/artists/adeela-suleman/images/

Further Reading:
‘Contradiction Remains Vital to Pakistan and Its Art’ By Randy Kennedy
Published: September 2, 2009 The New York Times