ullabies are soothing songs that have been traditionally sung by mothers in all cultures of the world to put their infants to sleep. It is a beautiful, melodious bond between the mother and her child. However, artist, author, environment and human rights activist Fauzia Minallah’s exhibition in Karachi, The Lost Lullaby of Mother Earth rudely shook one up.

Fauzia paints, sculpts and installs works in various materials and settings, to document, predict and warn. She also tries to point to a sustainable path the human species can take. A multi-faceted and talented artist, she has been showing her work in Pakistan and abroad ever since 1980. For Fauzia, it is not only the Earth that is a giving mother, the trees are feminine too. A tree-hugger herself, she gets her inspiration from the large and ancient trees that have nurtured our land, and finds inspiration from other tenacious Pakistani women.

The Lost Lullaby exhibition at the Sadequain Gallery was curated by Pomme Amina Gohar at the fourth Adab Festival held last month at the Frere Hall. The hugely visited show was divided into paintings - in acrylics on canvas; Chitarkari - on large gray stones known as slate; a 100 feet long Amai’s Mural on fabric; large tinfoil installations, and dupatta-like net installations Keeping Memories Alive that had embroidered portraits of some slain Pakistani women. The beautiful and poignant videos about her various works - playing in a loop - are also her own creation.

There is a common thread of tiny dots in Fauzia’s various works. Whether they appear in her paintings; are in the form of sequins on net; or the small holes drilled in stone, they create pictures and remind one of the Australian aboriginal art, the oldest unbroken art tradition in the world.

There is a common thread of tiny dots in Fauzia’s various works. Whether they appear in her paintings; are in the form of sequins on net; or the small holes drilled in stone, they create pictures and remind one of the Australian aboriginal art, the oldest unbroken art tradition in the world.

“I wonder if my grandchildren will chase magical fireflies like I did as a child in Lahore? Will they see trees full of parrots as I saw in Peshawar? Will they climb mighty banyans like I did in Rawalpindi? Will they be struck with awe of the ancient rock carvings in Gilgit-Baltistan? How many more lullabies will we lose in the process of ‘development’? And if it is a granddaughter, will this world be safe for her?” These are valid concerns and questions for the artist, a mother of two young men, who now divides her time between her home in Islamabad and in Germany, which is her mother-in-law, the late Helga Ahmad’s country of origin. She was Pakistan’s pioneering environmentalist.

Fauzia loves to work with children. She also writes and illustrates books for them. One part of her exhibition was Chaman (flower garden). Facilitated by Idara-i-Taleem-o-Aagahi (ITA), students of a few schools in Karachi had been taught by Fauzia to turn trash into flowers and butterflies. Crafted by the children under her tutelage, these were integrated in the display alongside the artist’s own incredible creations – the unique group of larger than life, poised and thoughtful Tinfoil Tree Spirits. Fauzia made these with discarded polythene bags, steel wires, newspapers, found wheel hubs and recycled tinfoil. With no green crown or living roots, these shiny tree spirits called out to us that they are not living in the realm of our fantasy, but have come to ask us thorny questions about development and destruction.

The writer is an author, illustrator and educator. She may be  contacted at husain.rumana@gmail.com