The country of lost things

November 5, 2023

Danish Ahmed and Haider Ali Naqvi open and fold the layers of space

The country of lost things


D

anish Ahmed, and Haider Ali Naqvi, the two participants of Space in Retrospection (curated by Adeel-uz Zafar) have one thing in common; the construction of space. However, they approach it in divergent ways. Ahmed creates imaginary structures, whereas Naqvi renders existing buildings. The two artists belong to Karachi, where they live and work. They teach at the Indus Valley School of Art and Architecture.

Anyone who has spent a considerable length of time in Karachi knows how significant it is to have your own place in the most populated city of Pakistan. One may rent a tiny quarter in the Lines area, build a bungalow in the DHA, buy an apartment in a residential tower in Clifton, construct a two-floor residence in Gulshan-i-Iqbal, own a farmhouse beyond Malir Cantonment, or have a charpoy in an abandoned or under-construction building. The city is growing population wise but the land is limited. Hence rows of flats have come up in many areas – from Gulistan-i-Jauhar to North Nazimabad and from Gulshan-i-Maimar to Garden Town.

Having one’s space is crucial: both in terms of concrete blocks, stone and mortar; and in documents. The process of building a house begins with a plan on an architectural sheet, (approved first by the owner and later by civic authorities). No wonder all work by Danish Ahmed and Haider Ali Naqvi is on paper.

In his untitled items, Ahmed, opens and folds the layers of a space: areas that include a portion of the sky as all courtyards do. In these tightly-executed drawings with charcoal powder, graphite and pastel, he produces layouts of disjointed forms. A section depicting clouds on a dark background may be removed from other parts of the drawing, which maybe a stark blue or intense vermillion. Using a special masking tape, Ahmed manages to keep his oblong diagrams even, dense and deep. He fills separate shapes with crushed pastel powder, so skilfully, that a viewer might confuses the manually produced part of the sheet with a cut and collaged one.

Danish Ahmed, a drawing teacher at the IVS, has impressed viewers with his technique of creating an illusion of complex space by combining several sides into a composite format like a folded paper.

Given the clarity, craft and control, one finds it hard to dig deep into his imagery, containing portions in blue, red and back with hints of a tree or clouds. In a sense, the entire body of work is like a project premeditated. There are mechanical and minimal variations, since the images of clouds and trees appear forced and fictitious.

On the other hand, honest, observant and meticulous drawings of various constructions in Karachi by Haider Ali Naqvi have believability not due to photo-realistic representation but due to the relevance of their subject matter. Naqvi has captured views of beach huts - crumbling, decaying and abandoned, as well as under-construction buildings in the grey stage. Images of houses on the French Beach, Sands’ Pit and other coastal areas are drawn in minute details.

The country of lost things


Given this clarity, craft and control, one finds it hard to dig deep into his imagery, containing portions in blue, red and black with hints of a tree or clouds.

Disbanded, these houses stand alone against the forces of water and air - elements that erode any structure on the shore. In these drawings, the houses are depilated, with hollow interiors no window panes, missing door frames and fallen cement blocks piled up on the side. Broken down structures are repeatedly rendered, occasionally with a fishing net attached next to a wall (Allegory of a Land IV). The places are in a state of general decay, to the extent that only the rubble of plaster, building blocks and rods is visible along with a lower boundary wall (Allegory of a Land IX ). There are other sensitive drawings denoting residences, once inhabitable, but now falling apart (Allegory of a Land VIII ) and works that only reveal the last standing partitions and nothing beyond that.

Haider Ali Naqvi meticulously describes a few structures in the process of being built, with scaffolding surrounding those. In that sense, both a space in a state of decomposition and the one its way to completion resemble each other. This reminded one of Bill Viola’s installation, Nantes Triptych (1992) of three TV sets; one recording the first breathings of the Canadian-American artist’s new-born baby next to a monitor showing the final respiration of his dying mother. Life and death appear to be not separate, but in close conversation. The drawings by Haider Ali Naqvi also find this no-man’s land between the existing and the perishing.

Naqvi astonishes his viewers with his great power of observation. Seeing his work at the O Art Space (from October 27, to November 6) one feels like being in front of the disintegrating abodes. The choice of graphite pencil for his subject, is a means to defy dates. Umberto Eco, in an essay on the Middle Ages, points out that due to the depiction of the medieval period in dark, dull and grey shades, people generally believe that period to be bleak, whereas it was as bright and brilliant as any day of our times.

If Haider Ali Naqvi decides to portray the deterioration of houses on the crust of Arabian Sea, he makes it timeless. The representation is not bound to developing/ changing technology of colour printing. (Perhaps because of this, the monochromatic photos and movies are still regarded true – and eternal, like the classics). Haider Ali Naqvi also incorporates clouds, but here the clouds are not a pictorial cliché. They register their presence and build an overcast atmosphere.

His indirect approach towards illustrating a natural phenomenon can be a key to unearth the meaning of his images. The houses Naqvi draws are not only colourless and decomposing, they are also the sole standing structures in those patches of land, almost generic in their features. Hider Ali Naqvi has turned, twisted and creased his drawing, to enhance his content. Although the curator, Adeel-uz Zafar says these could be related to the present situation in Gaza, the drawings were made, framed and packaged before the October 7 incidents.


The writer is an art critic based in Lahore.

The country of lost things