ike Shah Abdul Latif Bhitai’s Sohni asking a flooding river to hold back its waters, a trio of artists is gathering in Lahore to express their awareness, concern and hopes for the Pakistani women braving the deluge of unmitigated climate change.

In Zenana: Act 2, the narrative revolves around Sindhi women whose lives and livelihoods have been devastated by floods in recent years. In bringing together their contemporary education and traditional South Asian training, the artists are going past borders on several fronts.

Zenana Act 2, a collateral to the Lahore Biennale events, has been curated by Saamia Ahmed and Imran Ahmad. The project will be performed live at the back lawn of Shakir Ali Museum at 11:45am on October 7. An exhibition of Maryam Rahman’s calligraphic work will continue till October 18. Rahman, a visual artist, trained in drawing with the minimalist Lala Rukh at Lahore, at Slade School of Art in London, and in Nastaleeq calligraphy by Ustad Imdad Ahmed. Haider Rahman on the flute has been a student of Ustad Akmal Qadri and Pandit Hari Prasad Chaurasia. Vocalist Zainub Khawaja has been mentored by Ustad Naseer-ud Din Saami, Ustad Bhai Ghulam Muhammed Chand and Ustad Riaz Ali Qadri.

During the live performance, Maryam will be responding to the music played by Haider Rahman and Zainub Khawaja, by writing the names of Sindhi women in the Nastaleeq script. As her reed pen moves across the paper, the gesture will be captured in the moment, expressed through ink and the music that surrounds her.

The use of Urdu calligraphy together with the rendition of a morning raga, can be understood as revivalist activism. The point is to acknowledge the role and relevance of these traditions as necessary components in contemporary art-making in Pakistan. Seeking to decolonise their art practices, these artists recognise the intrinsic centrality of tradition in the creative process that weaves our cultural tapestry.

There is a concern that the onslaught of colonisation and Western art education, modernisation and globaliszation, traditional arts have been relegated to the status of archaic decorative crafts. As Maryam Rahman states, “on the contrary, these highly complex, sophisticated and refined art forms can be appreciated at many levels. In fact, in today’s polarised world, there is an urgency to shed light on these arts. There is also a need to look closely and learn from the systems that surround these arts that are designed to nurture mind, body and soul in a way that is more relevant today than ever before. Allowing this way of life to inform our practice and life can be an antidote to the chaos of the ego in a world of consumerism and disconnection.”

The classical arts of north India went through tremendous evolution in the Mughal court of the 16^th and 17^th Centuries. They reflect the ideals of harmony, balance, proportion and beauty as a basis for all art. Influenced initially by Safavid court practices, they evolved indigenously with the inclusion of Rajasthani and Gujrati and the contributions of other local masters. The subjects treated were both secular and religious. There were illustrations of historical works, both Hindustani and Persian literature, architecture, music, dance, painting, illumination and calligraphy. These classical art forms followed a set paradigm and were not as subjective in expression as contemporary. Yet they remained receptive to nuances and permutations the artist developed for improvisation.

South Asian classical art observes nature minutely. In music, ragas work in conjunction with seasons, time of day and weather. Painting and illumination are full observational stylisations of various elements of nature.

The traditional classical training required a regime of immense hard work, thoroughness and patience to achieve the ideal of perfection. A calligrapher would practice a single letter of the alphabet for up to 6 months. Classical singers wishing to attain perfection would practice a single musical flourish for months at a time.

The founding of the Nastaleeq script is ascribed to Mir Ali Tibrizi from the14^th Century, who said he had had a dream in which the prophet’s cousin, Ali (with whom Allah was pleased), guided him “to draw letters that look like the wings of flying geese.” Traditional calligraphy, music and classical kathak are all derived from nature and form a sophisticated abstract expression, using movement, rhythm, visual attributes of nature, using the artists’ bodies to become a vessel to achieve oneness with the universe. For some, the practice is an act of worship and transformative.

In highlighting the lives and deaths of the victims of Indus River floods, the artists bring to the fore not only the value of female life but also the devastation caused by changes to regional and global climate, due largely to human activity.

The writer, an associate professor in the Department of Fine Arts at the National College of Arts, Lahore, is a co-curator for Zenana Act 2