Where to place popular art
surreal_ravi
Some time ago the question used to be hotly debated whether pop music
was really music. After a lot of to-do from both sides it ultimately
had to be conceded that no parameters could be laid down, no standards
prescribed. To each his own, one man's meat is another man's poison,
and such other phrases were used to emphasise that every person had a
right to his own taste in music.
In the case of pop art too such a question could have been raised,
followed by a heated debate. But fortunately artists generally are
broad-minded and accept that every one of them has the right to draw
what he likes, as he likes, or even not draw at all and simply splash
paint on the canvas. This catholicity of opinion also prevails in the
field of sculpture, in fact more so, and you can go to the extent of
placing a smashed car on a stand and call it sculpture (or
installation art). Despite all this, a genre has been categorised as
pop art, and I for one find much to enjoy in it. As far as my limited
knowledge goes, there has never been a passionate debate on the
subject in Europe or America.
You must have seen the profusely illustrated book by a European woman
(the name escapes me at the moment) called Art on the Road. It is full
of photographs of Pakistani trucks painted over in garish colours that
the author saw in various parts of the country. It is a novelty in
itself that a volume devoted to the cheapest form of painting has
achieved the status of what is fashionably called a coffee-table
presentation.
Not only that. Curio shops in Islamabad now also sell small models of
these awami painted trucks and foreigners buy them eagerly. One such
model, a rather biggish one, was presented to Queen Elizabeth on her
last visit to Pakistan. It was specially got prepared by her High
Commissioner in Islamabad, and, like the real ones, it had not only
mountain scenes painted on it but also imaginary figures and legendary
flying characters and the ubiquitous F-16 fighter aircraft. So where
does one draw the line between real highbrow art and popular painting?
In the major cities of Europe you see pavement artists who not only
have their canvases propped up against walls but actually paint on the
sidewalk. They are not bothered if their work is trampled upon by
people's shoes, but most pedestrians are careful not to step on them
and the more sympathetic sometimes buy a canvas or two. The great
thing is they are not pestered by the constable on duty. We don't have
pavement artists in Pakistan but if you go to a glazier's to get a
picture framed, the shop is invariably chock full of a wide variety of
paintings done by awami artists that are being constantly purchased
for their homes by people whose taste in art is perhaps not
developed.Some time ago I was reading Durriya Kazi on this subject.
She is a well-known artist and also an art teacher in Karachi
University. I could not help being impressed by her views which are
certainly not hidebound and narrow like those of some painters and
critics who think they are the cat's whiskers and the last word in
appreciation of art of all kinds. I liked Durriya's comments on
popular art and I think her approach was realistic and intellectual.
Ms Kazi did not say anything about the novel theory floated in the
West that common craftsmanship and rural decorative art are perhaps
the real art because they are practised without any concepts and
notions in mind and come from the heart and from God-given manual
skill. There is no philosophy behind the art worker who is almost an
art labourer and just produces what he has been taught to produce by
his father and forefathers. There is no worry about what critics are
going to say about his work and how newspapers will react to it. On
the other hand, fine art, painting, sculpture, etc. as we see in
modern life, influenced by trends in the West, is always created with
an eye to its possible impact. But Durriya Kazi did say something to
this effect, and maybe that is why I liked what she wrote.
Dividing the two concepts into high art and popular art, she said,
"High art, we are told, represents the best that has been thought and
created." She quotes cultural theorist Raymond Williams who describes
it as "a general process of intellectual, spiritual and aesthetic
development that has produced great philosophers, great poets and
great artists." But then, asks Durriya, what about men like Ustad
Yusuf who combines 19th-century English landscapes with Rajasthani
pictures to produce truck art for Pathan drivers? If not in high art,
would he qualify for the appellation of just an artist in the modern
idiom? She explained that high culture was built on the concept of
exclusivity and is usually linked to the elite classes, while popular
culture locates itself in industrialized societies and refers to mass
produced, commercially motivated leisure activity of the masses.
A different exhibition: Based on variety in art, and different forms
of printmaking, there was a fine exhibition in the National Art
Gallery last week. This column is not for spot reporting, but I am
tempted to write about it because of its novelty. Three artists, as
apart from one another as artists can be, displayed their works and
intrigued a large gathering of the cognoscenti and amateurs and
ordinary spectators. They were Mahboob Ali, Aftab Zafar and Abdul
Salim. It's a wonder how the trio got together.
Under the title, "Creative Print-making - Yesterday, Today and
Tomorrow," they presented a kaleidoscope of three different techniques
comprising woodcut (Mahboob Ali), one of the most ancient methods of
print-making; offset printing (Aftab Zafar), used by printing presses;
and digital printing (Abdul Salim), which can be termed as the future
of printmaking and is creating waves everywhere and is the craze with
young people in Pakistan too.
The last-mentioned first. Because of the computer involved one would
imagine Abdul Salim to be in his teens, or early twenties, but he is
the oldest of the three, having studied under the late Sheikh Ahmed
when he worked in Lahore and before he migrated to Karachi. He is a
graduate of the old Mayo School of Arts (now NCA), class of 1952,
youthful in outlook as a computer bug who paints on its monitor and
saves the prints on canvas or paper.
Aftab Zafar too studied in the Mayo School with Sheikh Ahmed, is very
well-known in Karachi as an impeccable draftsman and illustrator and
portrayer of the Pakistani scene in all its variety, as also images of
historical and cultural import. He has acquired fluency and command in
various mediums and is a respected figure in art circles all over the
country.
Mahboob Ali, the woodcut young man, graduated from the NCA in 1972,
and has dedicated himself wholly and solely to his favourite technique
of print-making, which, as everyone knows, is a (hard) labour of love.
He has made the walled city of Lahore come alive through his work,
sometimes using as many as fifty colours and tones, and is now
recognized even outside Pakistan. His most recent print is a unique
rendering inspired by devotions in the Kaaba.
A special feature of the show was a workshop by the three of them,
attended by a host of art students from colleges in the twin cities.
The inauguration by Senator Wasim Sajjad was made significant by his
advice to the foreign office to come forward and acquire Pakistani art
pieces for display in our missions abroad. Thank God someone has
thought of this!