ike coins, artworks go through a process of transformation. Some become worthless, others acquire greater eminence, a few initially made for practical reasons (monetary exchange, trade) turn into alluring antiques. Pieces forged to denote the power of a ruler, or circulating in a specific society or embedded with signs and script to be understood and identified by a majority in a certain milieu, extend and alter their readings and expand their connections and connotations.

Many works of art created for religious purposes are later regarded as testimonies – of tools and technology, climate conditions, economic state and political situation of an epoch. For instance, miniature paintings produced for a Mughal emperor’s whims are now analysed for the systems of thought, cultural interaction and aesthetic features evident in architecture, dresses, jewellery, products and the status of women during that era.

If a coin or a work of art is frozen in its initial function/ meaning, it holds less importance than the one that has the potential for modification and at every stage of human history appears relevant. The body of work featured in the collaboration between Waseem Ahmed and Maaria Waseem, from their exhibition The Other Side of Silence (April 24 to May 8, at Ocean Art Gallery, Lahore) is an example of how images can be more significant and relevant a few years of their making. The 16 mixed-media-on-papers were completed in 2022, following the two artists’ visit to Jordan. However, these pieces are being seen through a different lens following Israel’s onslaught against Gaza that started on October 7, 2023.

The work of the two artists maps the misery by drawing on connections rooted deep in history and geography. The technique to execute these remarkable visuals is also a tale of a merger of two similar yet separate disciplines of art making.

Waseem Ahmed, an experienced miniature painter, and Maaria Waseem, an accomplished and exceptional photographer, have been exploring the theme of separation, which also entails the matter of differences and similarities. The contemporary international borders are political constructs. In the past, the boundaries of an empire, kingdom or principality were a lot more blurred. Even today, shared histories, beliefs, languages and ethnicities refuse to recognise these divides. Several tribes on the two sides of Durand Line speak the same language, dress the same way, have family ties and follow the same faith. This is also true of parts of the Punjab in India and Pakistan. Many Punjabis in Pakistan recognise more links with their counterparts in India in terms of tongue, surnames, folk literature and songs than with their compatriots from in provinces. Two parts of Bengal, divided between India and Bangladesh, have the same language, music and attire.

A person or a political leader can choose to highlight the similarities or dilate on the differences. Some of the choices lead to peaceful coexistence, friendly relations and prosperity, others to hatred, conflict and violence. What started on October 7, 2023, inflamed the tensions between Israel and Palestine and in the broader Middle East. The brutal actions by the Israeli forces that followed the Hamas attack have included bombardment of civilian population in Gaza and the West Bank, destruction of houses, demolition of hospitals and blocking of humanitarian assistance.

Viewed in this background, the work of Waseem Ahmed and Maaria Waseem opens up a new dimension. The two artists seem to have prophesied the catastrophe in a region revered by three religions. Palestine was once a part of the Ottoman Empire. For centuries the followers of the three faiths lived there harmoniously. The move to take the land away from one community and forcibly displace it has led to wars and hostility between Israelis and Arabs.

The work of the two artists maps the misery of the Palestinian people by drawing on the connections that are rooted deep in history and geography. Their technique to execute these remarkable visuals is a merger of two similar yet separate disciplines of art making. Maaria Waseem, with her incredible skill, and a sophisticated eye, captures specific spots that other visitors might miss. The marks might fade soon and the visuals may not be considered worthy of a second look. What we see in her pictures may appear to be no more than a barren jumble of concrete, ruins of a Roman structure next to a contemporary human settlement, views of a city from a dark window, the bed of River Jordan, walls from the Roman era with niches for pagan idols, two parts of the land that are naturally joined but belong to two alienated peoples, a broken column standing against the spread of basic and bare constructions.

Instead of merely selecting a particular venue, it was more important for Maaria Waseem to represent it through light, angles and sections that make it stand out from the routine and the familiar. Her profound pictorial genius adds a layer of meaning to these images, relating those to the fate of that unfortunate land.

Waseem Ahmed, by drawing crisp/ linear forms and employing subtle painterly marks (stains, spots, drops, scratches, hand prints – in red or black) adds a human aspect. Combining the past and the present, he contributed to the narrative, back in 2022, what appears to be responding to what is happening in the Middle East today. We see a streak of blood in a cluster of grey buildings and red handprints placed on a deep orange rough wall; a pool of blood (waves in the pattern of traditional miniatures) in the middle of a corridor and water channel; an ancient tower encased in barbed wires. We readily identify these images with the contemporary reality of Gaza and the West Bank.

We see the miracle because the artists, Waseem Ahmed, a strong draughtsman and painter, and Maaria Waseem an ardent researcher and photographer, were able to focus not only on what was in front of their eyes/ camera, but also on the shared cultural heritage of a region trapped in disconnected identities.

The writer is an art critic, curator and a professor at the School of Visual Arts and Design at the Beaconhouse National University, Lahore.