hile we were visiting the oldest and richest museum of Pakistan on the eve of Taxila Residency, it occurred to us that the place boasts a rich documented, as well as oral, history.

According to a news item, which had appeared in a paper 75 years ago, the partition of the Central Museum in Lahore would result in New Delhi returning nearly 20,000 articles belonging to Mohen jo Daro, Harappa and Taxila. Complete agreement on that had been reached, the news story said. (For the information of the readers, the said 20,000 articles had been moved to New Delhi before Partition, from what is now Pakistan.)

The news item, however, made no mention of the Dancing Girl of Indus Valley in bronze that was on loan and never returned. In a seminar at the Lahore Arts Council, someone asked as to why we should demand its return. The questioner did not know that this had been cast in the lost wax technique, long before the Shang and Chou periods of China. (All sculptures big and small are cast in this technique all over the world to this day.)

Another matter of grave concern is that just when the non-Muslim staff was leaving, it was in the knowledge of the staff then in place that miniature paintings from the Hill States had been stolen and carried across the border. At this critical juncture of history, various actors played their role - positive as well as opportunistic.

But, before anything else, it is best to go back to the time when the very idea was conceived. The museum has its origins in the Exhibition Hall, inaugurated in 1864, which later came to be known as Tollinton Market. This was a great idea because similar exhibitions were being held in various parts of Europe, including Chrystal Palace, London, designed by Joseph Paxton, 1851. These exhibitions showcased industrial products. The exhibition in Lahore was meant to similarly highlight the arts and crafts of Northern India — Pakistan, to be precise. Here, the artisans practically produced metal smithy, textiles, carpentry and other disciplines. After nearly yearlong activity, it was decided that the services of these craftsmen should be hired and their products displayed; hence germinated the idea of a museum and a crafts school.

Though the arts college and museum were founded here, with the assassination of the viceroy, Lord Mayo, in the Andaman Islands, by Sher Ali Afridi, many places were named after him. These included the Mayo Hospital, Mayo Road and the college that was rechristened as Mayo School of Arts. Construction was planned on a really large scale. These were called the Jubilee Buildings and included the Museum, the arts school and the Metropolitan Corporation. All these were designed by Bhai Ram Singh. These were the first structures in bricks of British measurements — i.e. 9x4.5x3 inches.

These buildings from pre-electricity days had large windows facing north, and verandahs on the southern side that provided shade from the fierce summer sun.

The Nanak Shahi and Mughal bricks were gradually phased out. The occasion was the Golden Jubilee of Queen Victoria. On the façade of the museum an engraving in marble was inaugurated by Prince Albert Victor of Wales on February 3, 1890, as Jubilee Museum and Technical Institute.

The script or plaque needs further interpretation. The museum and technical institute were both under the same administration. Hence, the curator and the principal of the school was the same person.

There was no wall separating the museum and the school. The school had craftsmen and administrative staff. The more literate among them served as lecturers. The craftsmen weren’t required to be literate.

As mentioned in my previous columns, the museum came to be graded as Central Museum and was bestowed with the largest collection of tangible history in Pakistan. At the time of Partition, several actors played an important part each. Dr Fabrie was the curator of Lahore Museum back then. BC Sanyal, my father Anwar’s teacher, was away at some hilly resort in India and returned to Lahore in September 1947 with his wife Snehelata and their one-and-half-year-old daughter Amba.

Once Sanyal was spotted walking down the verandah of The Pakistan Times, then housed in the Civil and Military Gazette building. He had come to see Faiz Ahmad Faiz. That evening, Anwar, with the help of some peons from The Pakistan Times, Dr Fabrie and a British conservator of forests helped Sanyal to retrieve whatever there was in his studio on the dancing floor of Regal Cinema (sadly demolished recently).

Sanyal remembered his trip when he revisited Lahore some 40 years later. He recalled, “You stood guard that day!”

His sculptures, paintings and a few ceramic pieces were removed to the curator’s office. A teak easel, about a hundred years old but in excellent condition, was bequeathed to me; my father handed over some of the pieces to Dr Fabrie who carried them in parts, in his two-seat car, on his various trips to India when the borders were still open.

Dr Fabrie had a lucrative job — he had European grade — and was treated as a foreigner. He was variously described as White Russian, Hungarian and a Jew. His wife, Ratna, a Hindu, also owned a big mansion on Sundar Das Road.

I remember Dr Fabrie coming out of Faiz’s office in a very depressed mood. It turned out that his post had been taken away. His attempts to meet the then chief minister had failed. His dues had been withheld. All he owned was a hundred rupees Faiz had given him. Soon, Ratna took him to her parents’ in India.

With Fabrie’s departure the sculpture pieces left by Sanyal in the trust were left to gather dust in the basements of the museum. When he visited Lahore, he helped locate some 14 pieces but he wasn’t given their custody.

Just before Partition, Sanyal was commissioned to cast a statue of Sir Chhotu Ram which the Jatts had negotiated down to Rs 18,000. The commission did not materialise. Soon after the Partition, all sculptures in public spaces were removed. Only Woolner’s was spared. Queen Victoria’s was taken away to the Lahore Museum and sits gloomily in its basement till date.

The museum building has a very impressive northern façade with an imposing, white-marble entrance. It’s a combination of eclectic Mughal styles. The central dome has a big hole or lantern for daylight to filter in. Behind it is a large roof formed with bent corrugated sheet as concrete roofs hadn’t been developed then. Under this roof was displayed Sadequain’s painting, titled Sistine Chapel, which I shall discuss later.

Note: This dispatch draws heavily on my discussions with my father and Sanyal and on their books. Vertical Woman by Sanyal is a must-read

(This dispatch is dedicated to Dr Aziz, the owner of the best bookshop outside the Museum)

The writer is a painter, a founding member of Lahore Conservation Society and Punjab Artists Association, and a former director of NCA Art Gallery. He can be reached at ajazart@brain.net.pk