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Closer to the Edge

Travelling through the sprawling city of Karachi with its mix of five star hotels, Raj buildings, Defence and Clifton mansions, Nazimabad and Korangi, [1]and the many inner city streets with strange names, crowded streets, diesel fumed buses and traffic jams, it is difficult to believe it is a historic city

The history of Karachi is ancient.  It was a pilgrimage site for both Hindus and Muslims. The temple of Mahadev at Kothari Parade is mentioned in the Ramayana; Ram and Sita, heroes of the Ramayana are said to have spent a night on the way to their pilgrimage to Hinglaj in Balochistan at the Ram Bagh, todays Aram Bagh; It was home to Abdullah Shah and his brother Yousef Shah, both tenth century Sufis,  the twelfth century saint, Manghopir, and Morerio, the hero of Shah Abdul Latif’s Sur Ghato, Buried under the government houses on Bath Island are the remains of the sixteenth century capital of Raja Diborai.[2]

Modern Karachi city’s history begins in 1729, when Hindu and Parsi businessmen established a new port after the Hab river estuary silted up in 1728. In 1838, the British occupied Karachi to use it as the landing port for their troops for the First Afghan War. It soon became a thriving Raj city, with India’s first airport and the largest hanger in the world at the time.

After 1947 the population jumped from 450,000 to 1,137,000 as the hospitable Sindhis made room for 600,000 Muslim refugees arriving from riot torn India. The over 50 percent Hindu population dwindled to a mere 2 percent as Hindus migrated to India and the language of Karachi changed from 61percent Sindhi speaking to 50 percent Urdu speaking. [3]

Karachi has since become defined by migration. As an industrial port city, Karachi, the first capital of Pakistan, every year attracts people from all over Pakistan in search of a livelihood. Unlike other cities of Pakistan, 94 percent of the land is state owned.[4] This has made it easy for migrants old and new, to settle at will, so that today, behind the turned back of a disinterested government, almost 70 percent of Karachi lives in what is euphemistically called “informal housing”.  No one “owns” the city and no one is owned by it. It is easy to get “lost” in this city. It is easy to use its anonymity to plan crimes of violence, crimes of land grabbing, economic crimes, political crimes. Its citizens simply worry about their street, building gates and walls, private clubs and now fast roads and flyovers to get away from it, to it or through it as fast as possible.

Yet, I and many others love Karachi and would not want to live anywhere else. I love the spirit of its people that joke and smile in the face of gunfire; I love its many, many markets that I am still discovering, I love its mix of languages and foods, and crazy houses made to look like peacocks, or the watertanks shapes like footballs or airplanes. I love the thousands of people who visit the Mazar-e-Quaid[5] on 14th August dressed in green and white or pile up into Suzuki high roofs to  break their fast at Seaview[6] in Ramzan[7]. I love having a beach. I love the zany wedding halls of Nagan[8] and the decorated buses. I even love the young boys boom booming their music as they weave through traffic jams.

I love the wall chalking, makrani donkey races[9], daredevils racing their bikes and cars in deserted streets by the sea. I love the camaraderie that develops when a visiting VIP holds up the traffic for hours. I love the humid air that wraps around you, and the summer breeze.

So what does this all have to do with art? The best art develops at the point of change and no where in Pakistan is change so evident as in Karachi. The Karachi of my childhood had an open spread out skyline; one main shopping area downtown; lots of cinema theatres, even a dew nightclubs and bars. Going out for a drive in the evening was a standard leisure activity. There was one state owned television channel with only an evening transmission. Front doors were seldom locked.  Then the world swept in bringing high rise, internet, and 400 new cars a day. The city transformed into MacDonalds and KFC, gigantic shopping malls and madrassas[10]; beards and hijab[11] stop at traffic lights next to body polishing and gel, both in the same style of cars; QTV and MTV, Sony and Hum,[12] interchange in mid sentence as dazed grandparents switch channels;  High tec flies in from Dubai as jamaidars[13] with coconut palm brooms make neat piles of dust along roadsides.  

Artists have been describing the city ever since it came into existence, however, in European art, the Romanticism of the Landscape predominated until the city could be ignored no more. After the industrial revolution, the Impressionists were quick to understand that the new landscape was urban, paving the way for the more bold movements of cubism and futurism.

Mughal miniatures, interestingly, have always been more urban. Its settings were palaces, palace gardens, streets and views into houses Landscape was the mere backdrop or an aside to experiment with perspective as practiced in European art.  The British colonial influence introduced European art traditions. It also encouraged a new style of exotic “ cultural” images lingering on to this day with a plethora of Thari[14] women and other village belles. Lahore wholeheartedly embraced the landscape tradition, with its rich green surroundings and  agricultural environment. The cityscapes of Lahore artists have also been focused on rendering a romanticized view of the old city, exceptions being Colin David, Ijazul Hasan and Iqbal Hussain.

In Karachi, on the other hand, it requires great determination to ignore the city. It is in us around us and we rarely travel out into its arid environs ( of course, with the exception of Sadeqain). Bashir Mirza, Rabia Zuberi, Mehr Afroze, Naheed Raza, Nagori, and even Jamil Naqsh remained occupied with “humanscapes”  or else, the interface between the individual and society.

As postmodernism has trickled in to Pakistan, these continuing concerns have been explored more consciously with new media or newly revived media, as in the case of the neo-miniaturists. The nineties saw artists looking outside mainstream art at popular art, working with public art, collaborative works, installations. Since then, there has been no looking back.

The various art schools of the city with a new generation of internationally trained faculty, have for the past decade, been the catalyst for a new generation of artists who have broken with the tradition of oil paintings or sculptural objects. Their work is more diverse, more experimental, struggling to find new languages in which to decode their experience of living in this complex city. Regular inputs from visiting artists from, for example, the Vasl[15] International Art workshops, whose main interest in working here is to engage with the “ new” environment they find themselves in, has also strengthened the sense of purpose of local artists.

Since 1994, public artworks, collaborations with popular artists, use of new media created he possibilities for a more inclusive and accessible approach to art.  New spaces for art emerged : art was being shown on the streets, at Gadani[16] Beach or public parks. The VM Gallery and now the new Artists Commune, have been quick to realize this new art needs a new use of space. 

“Cityscapes” 1999, was held  at Galleria Sadeqain, in the city’s Frere Hall Gardens. Curated by young Art graduates, it included readings by the city’s poets throughout the duration of the exhibition. Karachi was recovering from the urban violence of the nineties. Six years on, what has changed? What has stayed the same? 9/11, the spread of computer Graphics, Satellite television, opening of borders, the earthquake of 2006, floods and war - edgy times, and an uncomfortable uncertainty will I am sure define the work exhibited in 6/6:The Labyrinth, and pace out the difference.  


Durriya Kazi
Karachi May 2006



[1] Areas of Karachi
[2] Urban Resource Council
[3] Ibid.
[4] Ibid.
[5] The Mausoleum of M.A, Jinnah, founder of Pakistan
[6] A public seaside parade
[7] The Muslim month of fasting
[8] An area in Karachi where many wedding halls are located
[9] Makranis or sheedis are an ethnic group from the Makran coast who hold donkey cart races every week.
[10] Religious schools
[11] Orthodox Muslim men wear beards and women cover their heads and bodies.
[12] Cable channels QTV: Quranic , MTV: western Music , Sony: Indian entertainment, Hum: Pakistani entertainment.
[13] sweepers
[14] Women of the Thar desert of Sindh who wear a distinctive style of colourful clothes
[15] An artists association for International Art Workshops
[16] A beach along the coast of Baluchistan

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