Art in a time of Faith

This is a time of faith. To publicly express and display religious sentiments, exhorting others to do the same. A time difficult to avoid being swept in a frenzy especially when being conformist seems easy and safe. Any attempt to keep aloof carries the risk of being brandished as an infidel.

Even if the situation is not so bad (at least for the time being) pursuing art with an aim to uphold higher values of humanism seems precarious. The compulsion to take sides with everyone getting fanatic makes it difficult of practicing art with a dream of a peaceful world.

In this milieu of growing mistrust and xenophobia, art, a universal language; has the potential to make us realize that people all over the world are essentially the same. However there is a serious threat, that this might be lost in thick dust being raised by religious hatred and jingoism of holy wars.

However even in this situation, creating or experiencing art can at least relax and soothe us, though we may fail to make others feel the same The process of creating art engages both the body and the mind and provides us a chance to look inward and reflect. Experiencing art also gives us reason to think and be reflective or may inspire us to keep faith in human and ethical values. Art provides a release, a place for reflection and a way to engage our whole selves. We need art to keep our sanity.

This reminds me of words of, art critic Raymond Steiner

There was a time when the world thought that the artist was chosen, and that they were on a mission not to tell us what we have but what we might have if we’d only get our act together and see beyond the obvious. Art was supposed to transcend life, not imitate it. Crap is obvious—and I for one am wearied by its presence. Show me please the light at the end of the tunnel. Show me yet once again how beauty can nourish my inner being. Don’t show me what is, show me what can be, and how I might get there—even if only in my mind—as I lose myself in a painting, a musical score, a poem, or photograph.”

#art #photography #culture #Pakistan #religion #Islam #photography 

 

Pakistan: Land and life

This is the title of first solo exhibition of Sharjeel Anzar, held in PNCA (Pakistan National Council of Art) Islamabad.

Driving for 30 km in inclement weather with torrential rain pouring down, it was an evening well spent.

 A pleasant surprise to look at the pictures representing almost all genres of photography and a pleasure to know a multi-talented person, a bureaucrat, artist, poet and a music aficionado.

The pictures gave a panoramic view of our rich culture (or what it used to be), varied in themes and composition, with a common denominator of a deep love for the land and its people. In vivid colors, they portrayed a land of joy, peace and love.

A photograph, may appear a random click to a causal onlooker, but it carries an unmistakable signature of the artist, revealing inner depths of his/her subconscious. A picture is the gist of all the life experiences of an artist, of books read, of music enjoyed, of movies watched and even of all the dreams, ambitions and frustrations of life. This collection revealed depth of literary and aesthetic sense of a mature artist.

However, passing through the riots of colors and lights depicted in pictures, one could see a deep down nostalgia and a touch of melancholy. A yearning to run away from the rush of modern cosmopolitan life and take refuge in those times/ places where pace of life was slow and simple.

To capture the rapidly changing values, customs and life style of this land seems to be a desperate attempt to catch hold of fleeting sands of time. Exhibition looks like a dirge for lost innocence, of what this land used to be once; a hankering for reversal of all the degradation of materialism.

In landscapes, a lonely figure lost in grandeur of nature or in the gathering dusk, melting in fading colors and light reflects the deep down melancholy characteristic of a poet and a romantic by heart

A poem of Sharjeel Anzar may have been another good title for this exhibition 

I am in mourning

For the poems I could not write

For the dreams I could not carve

For the women I could not love

I am in mourning

Is he really in mourning for this land and its people?

#pakistan #punjab #art, #photogrpahy

 

Termite life

Life in a cosmopolitan city has an attraction that one can remain faceless amidst a vast ocean of people, a luxury denied to those from villages and small towns.

Silently sitting in a corner, in a pensive mood, watching the teeming life whirling in endless circles has its own charm. Watching the weary faces, tense looks and endless toil to bear the cross of their existence, while remaining unnoticed; bring us much closer to an understanding the life.

Their lives tend to convey a message of triumph of humanity against nature but at the same time, it's humbling to realize that a time will come when all this suffocating rush of humanity milling around us would be no more.

This has been a fait accompli for millions of generations before us and would be so for millions more to come in future.

 For how long? No one knows.

The life seems like a conveyor belt, slowly inching us toward final destination, crushing and grinding not only individuals but civilizations mercilessly. 

This contemplation is humbling realization of fickleness of life and puts an intriguing question. Is there is any method in this madness?

Can we make this apparently senseless life more meaningful and if so how and why?

People have been preferring wilderness to contemplate on philosophical questions of existence, but the same degree of nirvana can be achieved by introspection while just sitting in the center of suffocating markets.

For an 'urban monk’, apparently doing nothing except savoring buzz of humanity matters much more than so many hours spent in emotional deprivation in what Wallace Stegner called, "the termite life we have created."

#pakistan #art #photography #literature #life 

 

In search of meanings

'I have seen all the things that are done under the sun; all of them are meaningless, a chasing after the wind'.(Ecclesiastes.1:1)

Despite all philosophies, religious or secular; human existence in this tiny part of a limitless universe has perplexed intellectuals and philosophers throughout human civilization.  Indeed, it seems to be senseless by any objective standard.

Creative people, being extremely sensitive feel an urge to decipher what others may take for granted. In this endeavor, they claim to pursue art and literature in order to make sense of their life, to achieve an inner peace. They build a façade of meaning over apparent meaninglessness of existence for them. This is why creation is such a crucial activity in their life.

Is it a mere cliché repeated ad nauseam or is there any substance in their claims? The term 'meaningful’ seems too elusive to grasp, though frequently used in artistic as well as spiritual writings.  

Do artists and writers ultimately find their nirvana?  Or do they remain as clueless as other people are? Has art or literature ever been able to guide humanity to ultimate purpose of life?

 Such endeavor is bound to give us answers which are fleeting and incomplete even with the best of efforts. New meanings need to be found—and older ones reaffirmed—a life-long struggle and an incessant anguish

Probably the struggle to find ultimate truth itself is more important than reaching the final destination. Creative persons an artists or a writers; are not finding truth objectively, rather they are expressing meaning as they feel subjectively. Their feelings may not be the ultimate answer and may not satisfy their followers but at least they feel the quest to be enlightening and soothing for them

This claim sounds closer to the views of Sufism and may be objected by a rationalist, who reject anything which can't be measured by an objective standards. Subjective experience of an individual is rejected as they lack reliability and validity and thus unacceptable as guiding principles.  

In their odyssey, most of the artists, prefer the peace and tranquility of the wild, far removed physically and emotionally from the mass of humanity. For others it has always been the other way round. They prefer the hustle bustle of a town to find the true essence of life, trying to capture and preserve the real life as it whirls around them., Ordinary people toiling to make both ends meet are the milestones in their personal journey to the ultimate truth.

So for an artist, the inner urge to find his/her destiny itself is the sufficient reward for all that trouble. 

A creative person is basically a dream chaser like Santiago, the hero of Al-Chemist, who sets off in search of a promised treasure and then ultimately finds that the real treasure was the journey itself which enriched him with invaluable gems of experience.

The following quote from Al-Chemist  beautifully summarizes it

“My heart is afraid that it will have to suffer,” the boy told the alchemist one night as they looked up at the moonless sky.

“Tell your heart that the fear of suffering is worse than the suffering itself. And that no heart has ever suffered when it goes in search of its dreams.”