There are those who have all the time in the world to visit exhibitions and art galleries, who enjoy interacting with crowds and hobnobbing with the who’s who of the city. Unfortunately, I am not one of them. I sometimes wonder if I could be one of the “there are those.” But then, knowing myself, I doubt if I am made of the same material. The “there are those” are a breed unto themselves. It takes a lot of effort to be a “there are those”.
Anyway, in spite of not being a “there are those”, I found myself at an exhibition. If I had been a genuine “there are those”, I would have mingled with the crowd, smiled for no apparent reason, looked genuinely interested in the exhibits and politely refused all refreshments. However, being “me” I made a beeline for the tea (jumpstart always needed), felt like the only person the cat had dragged in and stood in utter confusion as my brain strived to process all that I’d viewed.
Thank God for sugar!
The exhibition was titled “the Door” and seventeen people had worked hard towards its end. My writings had to justify their efforts. That effort had been made, was apparent. There was not a single door in sight and no paintings. What there was, was a plastic sheet-covered green house, much like the ones on farms these days, a single key in a wall, many, many, many doorframes, some photographs, a mural, an iPad, a birdcage, a rod with many arm-hand supports, a miniature box with many openings, a black car door on the wall, a strip with nails and someone bath stuff and a “charpoy”.
My challenge was to see the “Art” in all this.
Installations for some reason present a challenge in my life. The first question which always bothers me is “how will we record the arts of our times in history?” Installations, once taken down, are lost forever in comparison to painting and sculpture. The latter retain their visual even after being removed from the space in which they were displayed. Photographic records are all very well, but quite often much of the essence is lost in this practice of recording.
The effort of this diverse group was genuine. Much thought and debate had preceded the point of conceptualizing and exhibiting. Like, for example, the single key fixed in the wall by Parva Mehak and Ameer Zahid. It hinted at all that was expected of this object and yet the wall stood flat, firm and impenetrable. Even the Green House, titled “the tunnel of hope” by Waheed Latif, with its sharpened pencils growing out of the earth, facing upwards, had profound meaning on many levels. Its straight white strings in perfect symmetry and tension hinted at many parallels.
That new visuals were created and that the participants of this exhibition explored new means and mediums of expression was obvious, yet better was the knowledge that a gallery had allowed artists to display conceptual works. But the most gratifying aspect was that two students from the Hazara University Fine Arts Department were members of this exercise. That the practice of a collective artistic exercise which the Gallery 39K organizes every year, includes practitioners from outside Lahore, needs to be acknowledged and commended. Not many galleries display conceptual artworks. Even fewer are partial towards installations. Installations are new to our art culture and are not always well-received but this is something which the viewing public will accept in time, with further exposure. That installations are not always well executed is another matter for debate and deliberation. At present, what is needed to promote this genre within our art culture is an undisputed body of work, which, in the case of this exhibition, fell a little short. And the willingness of space managers to allow such exhibitions.
As far as documenting this genre as the cultural practices of our times for history is concerned, I can only pacify myself with the belief that the efforts of many, in time, will not be in vain.
Note: to further view the artists’ works, visit Gallery 39K’s Facebook page.
The writer is an art critic based in Lahore.
