rt movements — like newborn babies — are baptised in multiple ways: some by intention or chance; some out of affection, others as a result of contempt or ridicule. Often, the art of the past is classified into categories much later, in terms such as Gothic, Romanesque, Renaissance, Neoclassicism and Romanticism. But with the dawn of the modern era, naming occurred in real time, often by the artists or critics of that period. Realism was adopted by Gustave Courbet “when exhibiting his own work, even though he shunned labels.”

Impressionism was first mentioned in a derogatory tone by a “hostile art critic… in response to Claude Monet’s painting Impression: Sunrise.” Likewise, Cubism became a way to describe a certain body of work after “Matisse told the critic Louis Vauxcelles that ‘Braque has just sent a painting made of small cubes.’” Similarly, the British art critic Lawrence Alloway wrote about the new art of the ’60s as Pop Art, picking the word “Pop” from the cover of a tennis racket in Richard Hamilton’s collage Just What Is It That Makes Today’s Homes So Different, So Appealing?

In a 1965 essay, Alloway notes: “The term ‘Pop art’ has been popular this year, welcomed by critics who think that the use of a slogan will confer awareness on their sluggish prose, and by dealers who always prefer a trend to a single artist.”

In Pakistan too, one encounters a similar tendency, with the description of three distinct art movements: Lahore Art Circle, Neo-Miniature (or Modern Miniature), and Karachi-Pop (or Urban Vernacular), each defined either by a passionate artist, a pompous art historian or an ignorant academic. The current exhibition, Manzar: Art and Architecture from Pakistan 1940s to Today (organised by the Art Mill Museum until January 31, 2025, at the National Museum of Qatar, Doha), provides an occasion to compare and connect these home-grown movements.

The extensive display of Manzar is unprecedented. It not only combines art and architecture but also presents historical links that have been neglected or systematically erased. This includes artists from former East Pakistan, now omitted from the history forged post-1971, as well as artists who rarely appear in local, widely accepted art discourse, such as Rasheed Araeen, Huma Bhabha, Seher Shah and Mariah Lookman. The exhibition also features artists from India who share a common cultural heritage with their creative counterparts on the other side of the border, such as FN. Souza, MF Hussain and Zarina (all three have held solo exhibitions in Pakistan).

The exhibition highlights how two relatively recent art movements, in their notable trajectories, began almost simultaneously and evolved in a similar pattern. In the early eighties, miniature painting was introduced as a separate major in the curriculum of the National College of Arts. Following the initial graduates, a generation of artists—Shahzia Sikander, Imran Qureshi, Talha Rathore, Ambreen Butt, Nusra Latif Qureshi, Aisha Khalid, Tazeen Qayyum, Waseem Ahmed, Saira Wasim, Mohammad Zeeshan, Hasnat Mehmood and Khadim Ali and many others – began exploring the genre’s possibilities. Initially working within its traditional format, they later expanded into diverse media, visuals and strategies, creating works on canvas, mixed media collages, installations, video projections, tapestries and digital prints – some of which are featured in the Manzar exhibition.

Today, there is great admiration for the remarkable reception of neo-miniature, yet one must not forget its early pioneers, such as Bashir Mirza, Jamil Naqsh, Zahoor-ul Akhlaq and Bashir Ahmed. In the oil paintings of the former two, traces of figures, a sensitivity of line and a colour palette reminiscent of traditional miniature painting are evident. Meanwhile, the latter two, in their roles as faculty members in the Fine Art Department of the NCA, played a significant part in training, shaping and inspiring young graduates of the newly established discipline. In his own practice, Akhlaq drew upon elements from Mughal miniature painting, incorporating its imagery, formal structure, spatial divisions and the shading technique (pardakht).

The extensive display of Manzar is unprecedented. It not only combines art and architecture, but also presents historical links that have been neglected or systematically erased.

Today, from Sikander to Zeeshan, every notable figure in neo-miniature acknowledges the studio teachings of Akhlaq, as well as his influence. Works by Zahoor-ul Akhlaq in Manzar reveal the artist’s exploration of a historical mode of expression, rather than mere imitation of past forms. Rashid Rana, Hamra Abbas and a few others who studied under Akhlaq’s guidance at the NCA but did not pursue miniature as their primary medium, investigated its formal structure and conceptual framework. Rana’s I Love Miniatures (2002) and Abbas’s Lessons in Love (2004), along with her recent marble inlay sculptures inspired by mosaics on Mughal monuments, demonstrate how tradition can be revitalised by reinterpreting it in a contemporary language.

Coinciding with this movement, four Karachi-based artists engaged in an ambitious art piece, Heart Mahal (1996) — a container that was part of an international project involving world port cities, ultimately displayed in Copenhagen. This piece explored a parallel mode of pictorial expression, distinct from the elitist production of High Art. Durriya Kazi, David Alesworth, Iftikhar Dadi and Elizabeth Dadi embraced the language of popular urban art, incorporating elements like truck painting, plastic toys, decorative items, movie posters, film stills and cinema hoardings. In the Manzar exhibition, Very Very Sweet Medina (1999), a collaboration between Kazi and Alesworth, along with a metal worker, cinema painter, electricians and others, exemplifies how a society — unlike those of the Industrial Revolution, which fostered consumerism and, later, Pop Art — developed low-tech creativity both in the imaginative realm (cinema) and in practical uses (recycled goods).

Since three of these artists (excluding Iftikhar Dadi) were involved in teaching at the Karachi School of Art and the Indus Valley School of Art and Architecture, their students were inspired by this novel and exciting approach to image-making. Artists like Huma Mulji, Asma Mundrawala, Adeela Suleman, Seema Nusrat and Adnan Madani developed their own distinct styles, later joined by numerous graduates from Karachi’s art schools in the commercial capital of the Islamic Republic.

However, one should also address two types of misinterpretations: first, the tendency to view these movements purely as formal experiments, and second, the inclination to restrict them geographically to Lahore and Karachi. While the Mughal legacy in Lahore may have played a role in the development of neo-miniature, its two forebears, Zahoor-ul Akhlaq and Jamil Naqsh, came from Karachi. Many contemporary practitioners, such as Imran Qureshi, Tazeen Qayyum, Waseem Ahmed and Mohammad Zeeshan, also grew up in Karachi and urban Sindh. Similarly, the aesthetics of Karachi-Pop resonate with the work of Rashid Rana, Faiza Butt, Risham Syed and Farida Batool, who hail from Lahore, as well as with Karachi-born, NCA-trained Bani Abidi. Notably, two early pioneers from Lahore also made significant contributions to this visual language. Ijaz-ul Hassan, since the ’70s, has incorporated popular imagery from posters, cinema and the entertainment industry into his refined paintings; and Iqbal Geoffrey, starting in the ’60s, reinvented and reinterpreted found materials (texts, printed matter, commercial pictures, everyday objects) to create a complex, politically aware narrative.

While looking beyond the domiciles of these artists, it’s also necessary to broaden the definition of these two home grown (post-modern) movements. The current exhibition at the National Museum of Qatar offers an opportunity to observe how artists, whether classified as neo-miniaturists or Karachi-Pop, address issues crucial to individual and communal existence. Contradictions, alienation, fragmented histories, economic disparities, religious extremism, ethnic violence, state surveillance, neo-imperialism and globalisation all surface in their work. In responding to these challenges, they transcend conventional boundaries and styles, advancing fresh ideas, imagery, techniques and materials. This renders the traditional art historical categories — considered by some as relevant and valid – as passé as the textbooks we studied in primary or secondary school.

(Concluded)

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