Written by: Nageen Shaikh
Posted on: July 11, 2019 | 
| 中文
Akram Dost Baloch’s eponymous show, on view at Canvas Gallery, is perhaps one of his boldest statements on the unchanging realities of Pakistan’s largest province. It is a fascinating exhibition of nine sculptures and eleven wood reliefs which deal with the intricacies of the human condition. Baloch’s almost three-decade career as an artist and educator shines at its brightest as his latest sculptures of stylized human figures reflect upon despair, existence, endurance, and hope.
Hailing from the vast and rough terrain of Balochistan, Baloch’s work offers political and socioeconomic perspectives but also messages of change and hope. An NCA graduate, Baloch is currently heading the Fine Art Department in the University of Balochistan. His sculptures follow his signature style: portraits of men with rough lines and hardened features, and reliefs of heavily stylized women among flora and fauna.
One can see how far Baloch has come in terms of his influences and technique. A few years ago, Baloch exhibited paintings in his show Shenakht (2015) which showcased the lives of common Balochi residents in abstract paintings. But for his show Identity (2017) however, Baloch painted figures in a manner reminiscent of the works of the great master Shakir Ali. The men of his paintings have harsh features reflective of the difficult terrain, and the women are sculpted as flat, abstract wood reliefs. This show merges both techniques into a new evolutionary phase, as Baloch further hones his craft.
Baloch’s Untitled-1 is a sculpture showing the front view of an anonymous person whose wooden head has been carved out. There is only a triangular space at the top for a head, and a dented profile as a neck. The piece continues to remove more body parts, creating a void where the abdomen normally rests. Subtracted anatomy such as this can be taken as a commentary on hunger and impoverishment. But on a larger scale, it represents scarcity of economic resources, and a dearth of facilities that determine a suitable standard of living.
Despite this grim piece, Baloch’s sculptures appear calm; the artist does not give up on the aspirations that may still shape reality one day. These hopes are depicted as supplementary details on the sculptures, such as rust-textured abdomens, and specks and dots that mark the figure Untitled-1.
Similarly, Untitled-2 is a wood carving which depicts the side profile of a woman carrying a matka (earthenware pot) over her head. Although her form is exaggerated, this wooden figure lacks recognizable facial features and limbs. For him, the Balochi women continue to fight against an absence of independence, a struggle with her identity, and an economically difficult life. These features are more evident in the reliefs which provide insight into the mundane lives of the women residing and working in rural Balochistan. But the reliefs show a craft-like quality, which is perhaps not as impactful as his sculptures.
Untitled-7 is reminiscent of a feline-like front profile, which evokes Ancient Egyptian imagery. Missing hands, facial features, feet, abdomen, and a triangular genital area, set the figure as distinctly feminine, much like the other sculptures. The silhouette of the life-size figure’s hollow abdomen is marked with fresh blue paint that scatters as rough asymmetrical dots. Similar marks are seen where the feet should have been.
Similarly, Untitled-3 is a cleverly crafted piece: the side profile of the figure offers elongated hollows where the face and the abdomen rest, while the added textures and colorful marks augment the figure’s appeal. While Balochi women might have a collective sense of belonging and identity, Baloch’s pieces clearly point at the variety of individual personhood which peeks from under the rough surface.
These are perhaps the artist’s darkest, toughest, and most introspective works. But fans and art enthusiasts have welcomed his bold and nuanced style. They cannot wait to see the further evolution in his artistic journey. The show continues at Canvas Gallery till July 11.
You may also like:
