Written by: Khadijah Rehman
Posted on: February 11, 2020 | 
| 中文
A Casual State of Being in a Soul Hunting Haven by Anwar Saeed
“There are more things in Heaven and Earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.” - William Shakespeare, Hamlet.
Like a colossal slumbering mammoth, the city shifts and breathes in its sleep, awakening each morning to the indisputable fact of its own aging, revealing its many visages as sun diminishes to moon. It is here, between the sun and the moon, that the day comes to be, bringing a cacophony of events: births and deaths, mourning and celebrations, stories of the ordinary and the surreal. Intertwined with it all, is the inevitable, day-to-day search for meaning and truth. The second Lahore Biennale, curated by Hoor Al Qasimi, has transformed the city of Lahore into a landscape marked by art. Almost a hundred artists have displayed their works with the theme, Between The Sun and The Moon.
This is a world far apart from the elite notion of a white cube gallery space. It is the dialogue between the ancient nooks and crannies of the city and the artists that is inherently delightful, both in the heavily charged sanctity of these old spaces, and in the many tales that the artists have chosen to tell within these hubs. From the Mubarak Haveli in the androon heart of Lahore, to the monumental Lahore Fort, from Tollinton Hall to the Zahoor Al Ikhlaq gallery in the National College of Arts (NCA), the Biennale is a narration that unfolds in many voices, each artist picking up where another has left off, while the city hums in the background.
In the old campus of University of Punjab, portraits by Ali Kazim beckon. Much of Kazim’s practice has to do with sensitive, frail explorations of dust and dirt. The dark skinned characters in his paintings are just as elusive and transient as the natural element itself. His paintings between 2006 to 2019 are on display here, ranging from the backs of bald, tattooed men delicately painted in stark white silent spaces, to a brown, sullen woman’s side profile against a vibrant orange wash of pigment. There is a serenity to Kazim’s method as an artist, that draws the viewer in. Each gossamer strand of hair and pore of skin is reminiscent of the softness and fragility one associates with the divinity of creation. The porous texture in his works further adds to a visual connection with dirt and soil, an interpretation made all the more convincing when one looks at the small birds the artist has fashioned lovingly out of clay and displayed alongside the paintings. Between the sun and the moon is the dirt, from which man is born and to which he must return. It is this rise and fall of men and civilizations that Kazim explores with the breathlessness of a magician.
Ali Kazim's Painting
Rabbya Naseer and Hurmat-ul-Ain’s site-specific installation, “The Distance Between You and I” is also displayed at the old campus. A large sloping form that consists of cloth curtains in a gradient that develops from whites to greens, the installation changes its form with each angle. The drapery falls on the floor, pooling into silken puddles. The Pakistani flag is reimagined as a veil of sorts, an obstacle and a permeable wall all at once. The veil can be what you imagine it to be, concealment or inclusivity, a boundary or an opening. It is a thin layer of soft cloth, and yet a whole expanse that separates the viewer from what is beyond.
The Distance Between You and I by Rabbya Naseer and Hurmat-ul-Ain
Across the university is Tollinton Market hall. Within it, Barbara Walker’s large drawings in charcoal thrum with sentiment. Looming over the viewer, these larger-than-life drawings consist of black men attired as soldiers and gazing outwards, bold gestural strokes bringing them to life. The pockmarks and water damage on the wall accentuate the drawings beautifully, creating a tapestry of remembrance and respect. Walker seeks to pay homage to black servicemen who served in World War II. The drawings are hauntingly beautiful, not only due to the artist’s prowess with the medium, but also because of the lack of representation of minorities and marginalised groups in historical archives. To see these gigantic figures reimagined by Walker in all their glory, is therefore a fitting commemoration.
Alchemy by Barbra Walker
Next to Tollinton and inside NCA’s gallery space, enthralling paintings from Anwar Saeed’s oeuvre deck the walls. Here, Saeed’s signature brown men with short, stocky bodies engage in acts of conflict and affection, against saturated backgrounds and floating fish. These huge works in acrylics on canvas grapple with the politics of identity. In “A Casual State of Being in a Soul Hunting Haven”, six men (or perhaps six versions of the same man) are caught in conflict. The religious cleric whispers to the by-standing journalist as he pens notes, while the policeman stands poised to attack, dagger in hand. On the other end of the painting, a man brandishes a bow and arrow, while another man holds him from behind. The object of all their scrutiny is a blue skinned man in the middle, who is hugging to his chest a scaly crocodile as extraordinary and therefore as alien as himself. The crocodile is perhaps a metaphor for what is unique, and is therefore perceived as dangerous and must be put down. This is why Saeed is a master at what he does, his depiction of persecution in a society is also emblematic of man’s internal conflicts.
Inside the Mubarak Haveli, beyond the famed Bhatti Gate of Old Lahore, Basir Mehmood’s video installation “Monument of Arrival and Return”, plays on a loop within the alcove of a dark, cavernous room. The familiar site of koolis or porters meets the eye, as they move around within the enclosed confines of the video’s frame. The stark, blood red of their uniforms is beautiful in the dim confines of the room. They carry the artist’s belongings, such as a pair of brown shoes and a potted plant. The movement is a stasis, as the men trudge back and forth without going anywhere. There is a beauty to this redundancy, of coming and going without departing or arriving, and existing in this womb-like space. The porter is emblematic of travel, and yet must lug luggage to and fro within the same space. This stagnant feeling of entrapment is also evocative of a colonized mindset, as the porters carry out physical labour that seemingly has no end or grand purpose to it.
A screencap from Basir Mehmood's Monument of Arrival and Return
In the Irrigation Department of Punjab, Iranian artist Bahar Behbahani’s installation “I Can Drink Stars”, is a white octagonal pool in tile work, neatly split in half right down its middle. Resting on common blue water tankards, there is an intrinsically sacred quality to this installation, with tomb-like whiteness and elevated placement. The installation has replaced a ruined model of the river Ravi, and the split in its form creates a feeling of trepidation and divide, while also bringing to mind the brokenness of our ecological system. Multi-coloured tiles pepper the white of the pool’s floor, while a large geometrical star shape in black and grey tile work lies in the center, splayed like a jagged flower, open to the sky.
I Can Drink Stars by Bahar Behbahani
Till the 29th of February, the sun will set and rise onto these displays. The ancient history of Lahore runs warm and ever-present underneath these works, like blood surging beneath the skin; historical rooms, halls and grounds breathing again under the life-affirming touch of artists and artisans. The city and the artist have spun a tale together, as allies and as comrades, as lover and his muse, and much like the city itself, this tale burgeons against all odds.
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