“Young or old,” John Updike pens in one of his essays, “a writer sends a book into the world, not himself.” Some individuals from the history of art have acquired a heroic character due to their dedication, obsession, and persuasion of art – often refusing what a normal person strives to attain.

Rabia Zuberi was one of the people for whom life and art could not be separate. Her sculptures and two-dimensional works reflect the personality of the artist: strong, yet subtle and forthcoming. I met her on a few occasions. Every time I noticed that the senior artist (born in 1939), impressed everyone. She was compassionate, friendly and humble. The news of her passing away on January 16, reminded one of her smile, her voice and her place at the Karachi School of Art, welcoming everyone who crossed the threshold of that unique art school.

This quality of being generous to people, regardless of age, background, style in art, level of success or years of struggle (and failure), had manifested itself way back in 1964 when she established Karachi School of Art with her younger sister, Hajra Mansur, and Mansur Rahi. The KSA, Pakistan’s first private art institute is still educating young minds. Prior to this, Ms Zuberi had formed Mina Art Education Society and, as Marjorie Husain recalls in her monograph on the artist published by FOMMA, “chose the extensive, energetic, middle-class residential area known as Nazimabad to launch her project”.

One can write an entire obituary for Rabia Zuberi (or Rabia Apa as she was addressed and referred to) by simply enumerating her years at Lucknow School of Art, her visit to the National Gallery of Modern Art in New Delhi and being “awestruck at the sight of uniformed guards on duty outside the gallery where Amrita’s [Sher-Gil] paintings were displayed”. Migration to Pakistan in 1963, in the artist’s words, brought about “another existence and another perspective of feelings and experiences. Another phase started to respond to the circumstantial uncertainties and certainties.” In Pakistan, her works were displayed at the national exhibitions.

Yet there is another way to remember Rabia Zuberi. Ina short story, Quratulain Hyder speculates that on the hour of death, an entire life revisits the dying person in a summarised format. Similarly, after the demise of a creative being, one can gather all that was significant – then and now; and structure it. Writing on a departed artist is like sifting through a recently deceased family-member’s belongings, and picking what is important, valuable and usable.

One can write an entire obituary for Rabia Zuberi (or Rabia Apa as she was addressed and referred to) in terms of her years at Lucknow School of Art, her visit to the National Gallery of Modern Art in New Delhi and being “awestruck at the sight of uniformed guards on duty outside the gallery where Amrita’s [Sher-Gil] paintings were displayed”. Migration to Pakistan in 1963, in the artist’s words, brought about “another existence and another perspective of feelings and experiences. Another phase started to respond to the circumstantial uncertainties and certainties.”

One could approach the art created by Rabia Zuberi in the same manner. Henry Moore’s influence was quite apparent. However, an artist’s worth is not determined by whether he/ she was inspired or not. Who one chooses to learn from is significant. Art history is a chronicle of conversations between creative individuals: dialogues with contemporaries, predecessors and the next generations – using the common language of art. In that respect Rabia Zuberi’s preference for the imagery (linked to the British artist who incorporated the aesthetics of pre-Columbian stone carvings in his sculptures) which was stylised, simplified – and localised, holds meanings for the art world of the Islamic Republic.

When recollecting an artist’s memories, creations and contributions, one must look for the right context. The fact that Rabia Zuberi, a woman not from a highly privileged class, pursued sculpture is a remarkable endeavour. Putting aside the religious prejudice against three-dimensional art, and opting for the medium, often considered ‘manly’, was a superb sign of independence. Zuberi worked in steel, fibreglass, bronze, plaster and terracotta. The materials require hard work, strength and expertise. To this day, she is revered as one of the pioneers for dispensing with the presumed link between gender and the art techniques/mediums.

Although Rabia Zuberi exhibited a number of paintings and mixed media on paper as well, by and large she was known for her sculptures in a country that often reacted to the art form in an unkind way. The reli-mili (religious-military) dictatorship of Zia-ul Haq had a severe policy towards sculpture. Besides the state’s stance, the general public in Pakistan has been reluctant to appreciate and acquire sculpture pieces. Perhaps this is due to statues being seen as idols. Against all these odds, Rabia Zuberi continued producing sculptures in several mediums and dimensions. (It is relevant to remember that she was the number one signatory of Women Artists’ Manifesto, signed by 15 women artists in Lahore in 1983). The state finally did recognise and show respect her artistic achievement. If you visit the National Art Gallery in Islamabad today, the first art work you encounter is her Human Existence (a large composition of female figures, in iron, and bronze fibre).

Besides her conviction and commitment to figurative and three-dimensional works, one feels that Zuberi’s great contribution to the art of this county has not been fully acknowledged. This is particularly true of her decision to establish an art school in a locality far from rich neighbourhoods. It was initially located Nazimabad and is now housed in Gulshan-Iqbal, Karachi.

Several individuals and groups have started private art institutions that have become lucrative investments; but Rabia Zuberi, from 1964 to her last day, was never tempted. Instread, her school admits and trains those who cannot afford high-fee institutions. Rabia Zuberi continued youths, men and women, who were unsure about their ability, uncertain about their future and unable to meet the market cost of an art education. Her school trained some of the big names in Pakistani art including Lubna Agha, Anjum Ayaz, Athar Jamal, Ghalib Baqar, Riffat Alvi and Roohi Ahmed.

Bringing art to all segments of the society is a trait you still recognise at Karachi School of Art. This has been an immense service to Pakistan by an artist and art educator. I had two or three meetings with her while she was the principal. Now I wish we had met more frequently.

Now one can only interact with her artworks and her students. These are her true heirs, her legacy and her reincarnation. These shall guarantee her an eternal life.

The writer is an art critic based in Lahore.