Fatah Halepoto by Ben Edwards

FATAH JAY AASSAY PAASSAY

IN THE MILIEU OF FATAH HALEPOTO 1

Published in conjunction with the exhibition:

Fatah Jay Aassay Paassay/ In the Milieu of Fatah Halepoto Curated by Hammad Nasar and Mohammad Ali Talpur Exhibition dates 5 – 19 June, 2010, SIndh Museum, Hyderabad, Pakistan 1 – 15 July 2010, VM Art Gallery, Karachi A Green Cardamom Project Editor: Anita Dawood Design: Allan Forrester Parker Proofreading (English): Davina Thackara Proofreading (Sindhi): Ayaz Jokhio Translations to Sindhi: Ayaz Jokhio and Aslam Khwaja Photocredits: Imdad Sheikh (p. 16), Mohammad Ali Talpur (cover) Cover calligraphy (Sindhi): Fatah Halepoto Published by Green Cardamom, London Printed by Midas Press, UK © 2010 Green Cardamom Texts © 2010, the authors Images © 2010, the artists ISBN: 978-0-9561829-0-6 All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system of transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior permission in writing from the publishers. Green Cardamom: Justine Blau, Anita Dawood, Leyla Fakhr, Hammad Nasar, Sophie Persson, Nada Raza, Louise Sunderland, Vipul Sangoi We are grateful for the invaluable assistance provided by Ayaz Jokhio, Mohammad Ali Talpur and Ayesha Jatoi with translations and gathering material for this book. Thanks also to the artists in the exhibition and to Syed Hussain Askari, Umer Gul Afridi, Craig Barker, Iqbal Ali Jatoi, Aslam Khwaja, Aiyaz Kidwai, Fariba Shirazi Thompson and Vipul Sangoi. Green Cardamom is supported by the Rangoonwala Foundation This publication and exhibition is sponsored by Engro Corporation

Fatah Jay Aassay Paassay IN THE MILIEU OF FATAH HALEPOTO

The publishers would like to thank Engro Corporation for their generous sponsorship of this publication and the exhibition it accompanies.

Brief profile of Engro Corporation Limited Formerly Engro Chemical Pakistan Limited Engro Corporation Limited (Engro Corp) is one of Pakistan’s largest diversified conglomerates. Engro Corp’s portfolio consists of seven business lines and includes foods, chemical fertilizers, PVC resin, a bulk liquid chemical terminal, industrial automation, power generation and commodity trade. Engro Corp’s success as a company can be attributed to two things, our vision and our core values. Our vision of ‘enabling excellence’ not only encompasses our belief to strive continually for organizational excellence, but also extends our commitment in promoting and nurturing excellence in the wider public domain. Likewise, our unwavering pledge to choose the course of highest integrity, and adhere to the best in class safety, health and environmental standards in all our operations, defines the character of our organizational foundation. Together, our vision and core values compel us to be dynamic in our thinking and actions, and hence demand that we reach out to a broader audience, communicating in the most relevant language and building an identity that resonates across generations. In this inspiration lies the emergence of our company’s new image and identity as Engro Corporation Limited while we continue to build on our rich legacy of innovation and growth.

Contents

7 Sponsor’ s foreword 10

Three keys to an exhibition Hammad Nasar

In conversation: Hammad Nasar and Mohammad Ali Talpur

An artist’s notebook: reflections on the milieu of Fatah Halepoto Ayesha Jatoi

Works in the exhibition

Ghaal Ayaz Jokhio

Sponsor’ s foreword (Sindhi)

A note on translations: This book contains texts in both English and Sindhi. The texts, with the exception of the sponsor’s foreword, appear only in the language they were written in, and are not translated in this book. Translations of texts in both languages can, however, be downloaded as a pdf from the Green Cardamom website at: www.greencardamom.net/Fatah/translations.html

Sponsor’s foreword

Engro Corp is delighted to sponsor this significant exhibition and publication project, Fatah Jay Aassay Paassay, at Hyderabad’s Sindh Museum and Karachi’s VM Art Gallery. Fatah Halepoto, the renowned Sindhi art teacher, artist and writer, has been a singular influence in the careers of a generation of young artists from interior Sindh, who have gone on to national, and often, international success. He has been critical in helping his protégés realize their potential, an achievement that reflects Engro Corp’s ambition of ‘enabling excellence’ amongst the people and communities it works with. This exhibition has been conceived as a vehicle for the many young artists Halepoto inspired and mentored, and as a means to pay homage to his influence through their work. Equally important, the exhibition and publication highlight the remarkable flourishing of artistic talent from Sindh: a region that Engro Corp is heavily invested in. In the last few years, Green Cardamom’s ongoing programme of exhibitions, symposia and publications has been one of most visible vehicles for the international promotion of, and critical engagement with, Pakistani contemporary art. Engro Corp’s support has enabled them to bring this ambitious project to Hyderabad and Karachi, and to produce this publication, achieving a greater public outreach of Pakistani artists and their work. We hope you will enjoy this unique exhibition and that the catalogue will serve both as a reminder of, and as a window into, art’s capacity to help us see the world in a unique light.

Tahir Jawaid Vice President, Public Affairs & Human Resources Engro Corporation Limited

Fakeero, Untitled, 2010

Whilst the people of Sindh slept on colorful rallis, he [Fatah Halepoto] did not let the language of its colours go unspoken. Because of the shortage of art galleries to share work within, Sain Fatah chose a unique means and place for his work, the hands of the reader of a book.The cover of Sindhi books became like a makeshift art gallery where Sain Fatah has had a solo show for years, culminating in over 2,000 book cover designs. â&#x20AC;&#x201C; Ayaz Jokhio, Ghaal

Three keys to an exhibition Hammad Nasar

Look at that dancing girl sculpture from Mohenjodaro, she has been there for nearly 5,000 years with her hand on her hip and no one has yet made her dance. – Fatah Halepoto 1 Fatah Halepoto is a committed and inspirational teacher. The very premise of this exhibition – organized in part as a tribute to him – is a testimony to that. But his legacy stands out in significant ways from other committed and inspirational teachers who passed before him and are known well to contemporary artists in Pakistan. Unlike institution builders such as Shakir Ali, inspirational practitioner/ teachers like Zahoor ul Akhlaq, or artists who were both like Zainul Abedin, Sain Fatah had neither the weight of an institution as a platform for disseminating his influence, nor a distinctive artistic practice (Akhlaq’s deconstruction of the miniature) or project (Ali’s development of a European-injected South Asian modernism) that would inspire generations of students through association. He inspired with his own example. Not only in art but also in life: in art as life. It is perhaps his book jackets done for the poets, philosophers, novelists, polemicists and academics, whom he counts as friends, that reveal his singular approach. Each one is different. There is no ‘Halepoto brand’ at work here. He would read each book and try to find a visual extension to what it had to say. This search for the particular, a reflection of his capacity for listening, is what he also brought to his students. He helped them navigate their own path towards thinking about art as a larger cultural enterprise integral to their sense of self and place: Mohenjodaro’s dancing girl being a characteristic call to arms. He also helped them listen, nurture and believe in what they had to say and, as the work in this exhibition evidences, develop a visual expression distinctly their own. We have been Sindhis for 5,000 years, Muslims for 400 years and Pakistanis for only 40 years. – G. M. Syed 2 G. M. Syed (1904-95) was the founder of the Jiye Sindh movement (long live Sindh) that emerged from a groundswell of Sindhi nationalism, and played on ethnic Sindhi resentment against the influx of non-Sindhis into the province, which started at Partition and continued through the expansion of cosmopolitan Karachi, making Sindhis a minority in the province’s largest city. To place this in historical context, one needs to recognise that while Sindh remained geographically intact at Partition within the newly formed Muslim state of Pakistan

(in contrast to Punjab, which was divided at Partition, and then sub-divided further in India) it was also Sindh that, arguably, underwent the greatest change in its character, with the exodus of those of its Hindu families who were richer and better-educated3. The Sanskrit word Sindhu is the root for Sindh, Hindh, Hindu and Indus and this simple bit of etymology underlines the centrality of Sindh to South Asia as the cradle of the Indus Valley civilization, one of the world’s great ancient civilisations. Ideas of history, or indeed histories, are an important visual theme in works in this exhibition – Nizam Dahiri’s drawings emulating misprints bring to mind a notion of history being recorded in layers and constantly overwritten. Talpur’s drawings echo the passage of time, Fakeero’s play with sepia-tinged paper and reference time and the past. The Jiye Sindh movement was a formative factor in the political and daily lives of many of the artists in this exhibition; for instance, Mohammad Ali Talpur was a member of its student wing in Tando Jam. The quote by Syed at the beginning of this passage generated considerable controversy in his lifetime, going against the very foundational premise of Pakistan as a nation for British India’s Muslims. But looking back at the secular Sindhi nationalist ambitions of G. M. Syed from the present stage in Pakistan’s (and Sindh’s) political history, it is easier to see the loss Syed was lamenting than the idea of what he was fighting for. It is perhaps this palpable sense of loss that can be discerned through many of the concerns and visual languages – erasure in the work of Imran Channa and Ahmed Ali Manganhar, or the blurring of vision in Fakeero’s drawings that create the hazy effect of seeing through water. In both instances the act of seeing is modulated through the artists’ hands. G. M. Syed’s own standing in the history of Sindh and Pakistan is, as one would expect, contested. Was he a great Sindhi patriot or a traitor to the Pakistani cause? Or both? This conundrum is echoed in the portraits of Seth Naomul Hotchand (the Hindu merchant who provided great assistance to the British in the mid-19th century) that have been a recurring motif in Ahmed Ali Manganhar’s work for several years4. We were obsessively focused on drawing. Ahmed Ali would draw in the morning before he washed his face. – Mohammad Ali Talpur 5 Giorgio de Chirico called drawing ‘the divine art’ and ‘the skeleton of every good work’; another famous quote attributed to both Henri Matisse and Avis Newman sees drawing as ‘being the closest to pure thought’.6 Drawing has always been and continues to be an easy barometer of artistic skill – separating the art world into those who can draw and those who can’t. It is hardly surprising that Sain Fatah’s teaching emphasized drawing over all else. Not just for its foundational premise, but also because admissions to the

prestigious National College of Arts (NCA) in Lahore, to which he aspired his young charges to go to, required formal drawing tests. To draw is also to bring out, to evoke. And it is this capacity of drawing to carry narrative that has made it such a critical part of these artists’ lives, even decades after their formative drawing experiences with Sain Fatah. Drawing, as seen in the works of this group of artists (and, I would argue, generally) is more about the process of creating meaning through visual expression than strictly about the means used to do so. While most artists in this exhibition have used pen, pencil or marker on paper, their ‘drawings’ are also represented by more unconventional materials such as photography, painting or sculpture. It is perhaps Ahmed Ali Manganhar’s Blackboard History – a projected animation created through assembling hundreds of images of drawings in chalk on blackboard that are then repeatedly photographed, erased and drawn over – that exemplifies the mixture of technical skill, engagement with Sindh’s cultural traditions and history, and sheer energy that Fatah Jay Aassay Paassay brings together. And in recognizing that combination, Sain Fatah may also see his students writing a first chapter in the history of art in Sindh, an ambition that he so inspired in them.

Quoted by Mohammad Ali Talpur in ‘Conversation’, in Fatah Jay Aassay Paassay, Anita Dawood (ed.), London: Green Cardamom, 2010. 1

2 Quoted in Pratapaditya Pal’s ‘Introduction’ to Sindh: Past Glory, Present Nostalgia, P. Pal (ed.), Mumbai: Marg Publications, 2008. 3

For a detailed overview of Sindh’s cultural history, see Sindh: Past Glory, Present Nostalgia.

For more background on Seth Hotchand, see The Memoirs of Seth Naomul Hotchand, edited with an introduction by Sir H. Evan M. James (Commissioner in Sindh, 1891-99), reprinted to accompany the exhibition Karachi Under the Raj 1843-1947 at the Mohatta Palace Museum, Karachi (Karachi: Pakistan Herald Publications (Pvt) (Ltd), 2006). 4

Conversation (with Hammad Nasar), in Fatah Jay Aassay Paassay.

Quoted in Eliza Williams’ essay for Drawing Process, Anita Dawood (ed.), London: Green Cardamom, 2008.

Ahmed Ali Manganhar, Blackboard History, 2010

In conversation: Hammad Nasar and Mohammad Ali Talpur

This conversation between the two curators of the exhibition Fatah Jay Aassay Paassay – Mohammad Ali Talpur and Hammad Nasar – took place over a number of months between 2009 and 2010, by email, in person and over the telephone.1 How did your journey towards becoming an artist start, and what were the circumstances in which you first encountered Sain Fatah Halepoto? The first ‘real’ drawing I saw was by Ahmed Ali [Manganhar]. My cousin, who lived opposite his house, took me to see his drawings. I still remember, it was done with pastels on a black sheet and looked magical. I was hypnotised. Ahmed Ali’s brother, Sultan, had, and still has, a signboard shop. Ahmed Ali would help out there, painting the occasional commission for a portrait – Benazir [Bhutto] was particularly popular. Ahmed Ali would do the portrait and Sultan would do the text. I began to go to the shop regularly and to hang out with Ahmed Ali, who suggested I accompany him to his drawing class with Fatah Halepoto. This was at a teacher-training centre in nearby Hyderabad. Sain Fatah was training art teachers in government-run middle and high schools in Sindh. What were his classes like? What did he teach you? We didn’t draw together in a regular classroom or studio, mainly we would draw at home and come in once a week and show him our work. Sain Fatah would give us small technical tips, but his principal effort came in boosting our confidence. There would be a lecture once a week. Then we would work for the week, and be at our lowest ebb, when it would again be time for a lecture and he would revive us. At any given point there would only be a couple of students bringing in work together, such as Nizam [Dahiri] and I. Sain Fatah was quite a striking character, even to look at; he dressed and looked more like a movie star than a teacher and the place he lived in had so many small, delicate, quirky touches. When we went to see him it was like entering a different world where anything seemed possible. He had a real sense about the type of person he should be – a very strong moral sense. He would talk to us all the time, depending on what his mood was on that particular day – about art, cultural life, politics and life, but also about very personal things that we had never heard someone talk of in this way. He did not treat us in the conventional way a teacher treats students. It was a unique experience for all of us at that young age, and took us out of our everyday lives. It also put pressure on us to live up to this exciting environment and the unsaid expectations he had of us. We felt different and had a sense of purpose. And we were obsessively focused on drawing. Ahmed Ali would draw in the morning before he washed his face. We would be walking around and thinking about how we could

capture what we were seeing: should we use watercolour for this sunset or pastels for that field? We had developed rituals around drawing. Ahmed Ali talks about Sain Fatah ‘teaching us to be samurai’. Is that something you connect with? Listening to your description of the daily ‘classes’ suggests this was a very holistic approach, where drawing was a life skill rather than simply an aesthetic pleasure. So did he make you a samurai?

Ahmed Ali Manganhar at the signboard shop

Those were certainly Sain Fatah’s intentions. He was equipping us with craft skills – drawing, watercolour, oil painting – and wanted to us to come back and capture Sindh’s fishermen, its deserts and its visual culture. ‘Look at that dancing girl sculpture from Mohenjodaro’, he would say, ‘she has been there for nearly 5,000 years with her hand on her hip and no one has yet made her dance.’ Sain Fatah had a vision that his students would take the imagery of Sindh and breathe life into it. I think we, his old students, are doing this now, but in a different way than he envisaged. The concept is the same, our work has the same essence and roots of place but it has manifested itself differently from what Sain Fatah expected. He would tell us to go to the NCA [National College of Arts, Lahore], and then come back after we had graduated to capture the culture of Sindh. ‘Sindh is a virgin in art,’ he would say, ‘no one has touched it. You have to come back and capture it.’ He would then link our ‘mission’ to Sindhi poetry, such as [Shah Abdul Latif’s iconic] Shah Jo Risalo. Was going to the NCA part of the agenda from the start? Or was it something that crept up on you? It was not consciously part of my agenda, but it was part of Sain Fatah’s, who set the bar high for all of us. He would say that Sindh could be and should be like Japan or a European country. Hearing this had a big impact on us, coming from small rural towns or villages. He himself had applied to the NCA at the time of Shakir Ali, and I think he even has a letter from him. But he couldn’t afford to go, and so didn’t. But I think he wanted for his students what he could not have himself. He persuaded Ahmed Ali to go in 1993, and I followed him in 1994. Sajid Qureshi had gone before us. And there have been many since who followed us with Sain’s reference until his retirement in 1998. Every person I spoke to in connection with this exhibition, and who came from Sindh, had heard of Fatah Halepoto, and had a story to tell in relation to him. Imran Qureshi nearly went there for classes, Ayesha Jatoi talked about how she felt she knew Sain Fatah although she had never met him, through talking with Ahmed Ali. Ayaz Jokhio had not been taught by Sain Fatah, but knew him and spoke about him with a reverence that I think he shares with you and Ahmed Ali. There seems to be this real milieu around Sain Fatah.

Yes, there is. Sain Fatah himself puts it down to the fact that because he lost a leg in an accident he never moved around much, and so people have had to come to him. His living has been vicarious, he has remained largely passive; in fact, in some ways I feel there has been an emptiness in his life, either because of the type of person he was, or maybe because of his disability. And he has spent a lot of time listening. He is also quite a character, a real individual, different from the usual person you would encounter in that time and place. He believes fully that all experiences are good and that you should let yourself have many different experiences, as long as you do not harm anyone else. He was a bachelor for a long time and was known as such, so all his friends and their friends would congregate at his place, in the teachers training hostel where he lived from 1976 till 1998, in the evenings to talk. He would laugh about it and say that he was like a prostitute who dressed up in the evenings and whom everyone would come to visit at night. There were many poets, writers and thinkers among his visitors. There was a lot of political activity in those days (1980s), a lot of it around Sindhi nationalism – Hyderabad is the cultural capital of Sindh and has a very active culture. Around the time when we were drawing with Fatah, there were between 15 or 20 newspapers printed each day in Hyderabad – he was very aware of all this and connected with many people who were part of these movements, but I think of Sain Fatah as more of a modernist than a nationalist. Speaking of people gravitating towards him, perhaps it’s appropriate that we started this conversation with Ahmed Ali. He was clearly the first artist we had to have in the exhibition. The first work of his that I remember seeing was his series of paintings on slates. And in preparation for the exhibition I saw his sketchbooks dating back from his time with Sain Fatah. Now, seeing the paintings he has done for the exhibition, one can see a clear continuity in his practice. His ‘history paintings’ are almost his old sketchbooks finding new form. There is the same fragmented picture surface, an interest in the figure and narrative flow. Yes, out of all of us I think Ahmed Ali is the only one you can do that with. I think you would be hard-pushed to match Imran Channa’s early sketchbooks or mine with what we are doing now. Ahmed Ali has a practice like his personality – talkative and expressive. There is almost a chemical connection between the two. Those slate paintings were quite special. I think only another painter can appreciate fully the skill required to lift images out of that dark black surface, as Ahmed Ali manages to do so successfully. Nizam Dahiri and Imran Channa also followed the same path as Ahmed Ali and

Fatah Halepoto at home in Dadu, 1970

yourself – Sain Fatah and the NCA – and are now working within art institutions (Nizam in Jamshoro, Ahmed Ali at the NCA) and participating in exhibitions. Fakeero is the only artist in this exhibition who did not go to art school. I first got to know of Fakeero through the work he did assisting two other artists I worked with, Hamra Abbas and Sophie Ernst. I remember being blown away by Fakeero’s preparatory drawings for the armature to support Hamra Abbas’s life-sized sculptures in plasticine for the 2007 Istanbul Biennial (where he was assisting her). There was this terrific technical facility – simple, bold, unhurried lines. But he has not shown his work very often in exhibition settings, and I wonder how being outside the art-school support structure manifests itself in the work? Fakeero’s reason for not going to the NCA had to do with the fact that he was already working in his family business (sculpting deities for Hindu temples), and taking four years out was difficult to manage. Not going to art school means that he has been rather isolated in Tando Allahyar, and has only recently started taking part in exhibitions. There is something very interesting and different about his drawings, which is possibly a direct result of his sculpture practice and the fact that he has worked independently of an art ‘scene’. He is another one with almost atomic energy, and as he gets opportunities to interact and engage in dialogue with others I am very intrigued to see what will emerge. The inclusion of Ayesha Jatoi and Arif Hussain Khokhar in this exhibition is interesting in that they did not study with Sain Fatah. While Arif is your student and thus offers the ustad-shagird link, there is no such connection with Ayesha Jatoi, who is an outsider-insider – someone who can grasp the cultural connections without having direct experience of them. What do you think about including them in our formulation of the ‘milieu’? I think this exhibition represents a realization of an ‘investment’ that Sain Fatah has made in art. I don’t think there are problems with having artists who have not even met him but are sensitive to his ways of thinking and seeing.

Halepoto (L), his teacher A.K. Sheikh and others at an exhibition in Hyderabad, 1981

Let’s address why we are having this show. Speaking for myself, I see working on exhibitions as a learning experience. I see in the work of the artists in this exhibition a certain way of looking – a ‘groundedness’ that comes from engaging with a place, and at the same time an edginess that could be political. The formal languages that the artists are using are also so different. For me, working on this exhibition is a search for articulating the links between these diverse practices, a place and an influential individual. The biggest commonality is of course that Fatah Halepoto

taught all of you drawing. But after spending time with the artists in the exhibition, it becomes obvious that he taught you much more than drawing: he shared with you a way to think about life. I am interested in seeing how this is reflected in art practice. The idea for us to come back and contribute to Sindh will probably not be realized in the way that Sain Fatah imagined. For me, this exhibition is an attempt to do that in a very different way – in a contemporary language. Perhaps the work – with all the diverse practices you mention – will show us working towards what Sain Fatah wanted. I don’t know whether he will appreciate or even recognize this in the show, but, to me, this exhibition is about a transformation of that idea. In contemporary art there is a discomfort with the idea of representing or essentializing a region, a people, a nation, an ethnicity. Our exhibition flirts with these issues. Do you think we are on dangerous ground? I don’t think this is an exhibition about Sindh. For one, I think the political situation in Sindh is very different now than in the 1970s and 80s. At the same time there are specific things that shape it: the connection with Hyderabad, for instance. The work is also, for many of us, a way of addressing our migration, and is perhaps tinged with a bit of nostalgia. But what do you think? When viewers in Karachi come and see the exhibition, do you think they will be able to make a connection between the works and realize that there is a commonality among us? I think they may not be able to connect it to one teacher or to Sindh, but I think they will be able to realize that it is about a place. You think the audience will be able to see that? I never find anticipating audience reaction particularly fruitful, but it always has the capacity to surprise. I remember when we showed your ‘bird drawings’ in Shanghai, and perhaps the most genuinely felt response to the work came from the Chinese sweeper cleaning the floors, who was clearly touched by their poetic quality. But I do think there are many elements that can be read across the work as a whole. You talk about nostalgia and the narrative impulse – I see that very clearly in Fakeero’s work as well, despite his never having left. I also see a shared interest in the temporal: your work often, literally, records time’s passage; and Imran Channa’s erasure drawings, Ahmed Ali’s history paintings and Ayesha Jatoi’s use of a journal format all respond to that same impulse to address time.

Perhaps we should just let the audience listen to the work and come to its own conclusions. Your use of ‘listening’ is interesting. For the one other thing that keeps coming back to me every time I see many of the artists connected with this exhibition is the role of music. I can’t recall a conversation with Ahmed Ali that has not referenced a film or a film song, or ever visiting Ayaz’s studio without listening to something new and haunting; and, for that matter, the music playing in your car is always distinctive. Perhaps that is the uniting feature of the exhibition – the work here shares a common soundtrack. I like that idea. I think we should end it there.

Talpur, primarily an artist, is also an old student of Fatah Halepoto, and Nasar is curator at and co-founder of the arts organization Green Cardamom. Talpur regularly shows his own work at Green Cardamom. 1

Ahmed Ali Manganhar, Untitled, 2006 acrylics and oil on slate, 18 x 25.5 cm (approx)

An artistâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s notebook: Reflections on the milieu of Fatah Halepoto Ayesha Jatoi

WORKS IN THE EXHIBITION

Ahmed Ali Manganhar

13 35 36 37 38,39 40, 41 42

Blackboard History, 2010, animation, 7 mins 35 secs Untitled, 2009, acrylic on canvas, 91 x 119 cm (36 x 47 inches) Untitled, 2008, mixed media on paper, 119 x 89 cm (47 x 35 inches) Untitled, 2008, mixed media on paper, 119 x 89 cm (47 x 35 inches) Untitled, (triptych), 2010, acrylic on canvas, 305 x 114 cm (120 x 45 inches) Untitled, (triptych), 2010, acrylic on canvas, 119 x 290 cm (47 x 114 inches) Untitled, 2009, mixed media on paper, 91 x 119 cm (36 x 47 inches)

Arif Hussain Khokhar

45 46 46 47 48

Untitled, 2010, graphite on paper, 95 x 69 cm (37.5 x 27 inches) Untitled, 2010, graphite on paper, 109 x 79 cm (43 x 31 inches) (top) Untitled, 2010, graphite on paper, 109 x 79 cm (43 x 31 inches) (bottom) Untitled, 2010, graphite on paper, 109 x 79 cm (43 x 31 inches) Untitled, 2010, graphite on paper, 109 x 79 cm (43 x 31 inches)

Ayesha Jatoi

Sepia Boy, 2010, digital print and graphite on paper, 38 x 56 cm (15 x 22 inches)

Fakeero

6 53 54 54 55 55 56 56 57 57 58

Untitled, 2010, graphite on paper, 177.8 x 97.5 cm (70 x 38.4 inches) Untitled, 2010, graphite on paper, 54.6 x 51 cm (21.5 x 20.1 inches) Untitled, 2009, graphite on paper, 44.2 x 72.39 cm (17.4 x 28.5 inches) (top) Untitled, 2009, graphite on paper, 44.2 x 72.39 cm (17.4 x 28.5 inches) (bottom) Untitled, 2008, graphite on paper, 21.5 x 29.5 cm (8.5 x 11.5 inches) Untitled, 2008, graphite on paper, 26.4 X 20.3 cm, (10.4 x 8 inches) Untitled, 2008, graphite on paper, 38.3 x 54.3 (15.1 x 21.4 inches), (top) Untitled, 2008, graphite on paper, 23.6 x 33.5 cm (9.3 x 13.2 inches), (bottom) Untitled, 2008, graphite on paper, 21.6 x 36.6 cm (8.5 x 14.4 inches), (top) Untitled, 2008, graphite on paper, 29.7 x 19.3 cm (11.7 x 7.6 inches), (bottom) Krishna, 2010, fibreglass, 218 x 64 x 51 cm approx. (86 x 24 x 20 inches)

Imran Channa

61 62,63 64,65 66 96,97

Memories 1, 2009, graphite on paper, 64.7 x 96.5 cm (25.5 x 38 inches) Memories 2, 2009, graphite on paper, 66 x 105.6 cm (26 x 41.6 inches) Memories 3, 2009, graphite on paper, 64.7 x 96.5 cm (25.5 x 38 inches) Memories 4, 2009, graphite on paper, 64.7 x 96.5 cm (25.5 x 38 inches) Memories 5, 2010, graphite on paper, 74.6 x 107.9 cm (29.4 x 42.5 inches)

Mohammad Ali Talpur

69 70,71 72,73

Leeka, 2009, technical pen on wasli, 39.6 x 57.1 cm (15.6 x 22.5 inches) Leeka, 2009, marker on canvas, 106.6 x 213.3 cm (42 x 84 inches) Leeka, 2009, technical pen on wasli, 39.6 x 57.1 cm (15.6 x 22.5 inches)

Nizam Dahiri

78 78 79 79 80 81 77 82 98

Split Drawing, 2009, marker on paper, 16.7 x 26.4 cm (6.6 x10.4 inches) (top) Split Drawing, 2009, ballpoint on paper, 26.4 x 34 cm (10.4 x 13.4 inches) (bottom) Split Drawing, 2009, marker on paper, 16.7 x 26.4 cm (6.6 x10.4 inches) (top) Split Drawing, 2009, marker on paper, 26.4 x 34 cm (10.4 x 13.4) inches (bottom) Split Drawing, 2009, marker on paper, 29.5 x 21.6 cm (11.6 x 8.5 inches) Split Drawing, 2009, marker on paper, 34 x 26.4 cm (13.4 x 10.4 inches) Split Drawing, 2010, ballpoint on paper, 55.8 x 71.1 cm (22 x 28 inches) Split Drawing, 2010, ballpoint on paper, 55.8 x 71.1 cm (22 x 28 inches) Split Drawing, 2010, ballpoint on paper, 55.8 x 71.1 cm (22 x 28 inches)

Ahmed Ali Manganhar Ahmed Ali Manganhar was born in 1974 in Tando Allahyar. He received his BFA from the National College of Arts, Lahore in 1997. Recent solo exhibitions of his work include Non-Commissioned Historical Paintings, Zahoor ul Akhlaq Gallery, Lahore (2010); and Not Made for Each Other, Green Cardamom at VM Art Gallery, Karachi (2009). Group exhibitions of his work include How Nations are Made, Manor House, Ilkley, UK (2009); Lines of Control, Green Cardamom at VM Art Gallery, Karachi (2009); Going Places, Canvas Gallery (2009); Inaugural exhibition, National Art Gallery, Islamabad (2007); Figurative Pakistan, Aicon Gallery, London (2007); and Places Real and Imagined, Alhamra Arts Council, Lahore (2006). Ahmed Ali Manganhar lives and works in Lahore.

Untitled, 2010

Untitled, 2008

Untitled, (triptych), 2010

Untitled, 2009

Arif Hussain Khokhar Arif Hussain Khokhar was born in Larkana, Sindh in 1985. He received his BFA from the National College of Arts, Lahore in 2008. He has shown work in group exhibitions, including at Art Scene Gallery and Canvas Gallery, Karachi (2009); Redo Pakistan, Other Asias, London and Karachi (2009); Windmill Gallery, Paris (2009); Alexis Renard Art Gallery, Paris (2008-9); 6th Emerging Talent Exhibition, VM Art Gallery, Karachi (2008). Khokhar lives and works in Lahore.

Untitled, 2010

Untitled, 2010 (both works)

Untitled, 2010

Ayesha Jatoi

Ayesha Jatoi was born in Islamabad in 1979. She received her BFA (2005) and MA (Visual Arts) in 2007 from the National College of Arts, Lahore. Recent exhibitions of her work include Automaton Love, The Loft, Mumbai (2010); New Art from Pakistan, Thomas Erben Gallery, New York (2009); In the Beginning there was the Word, Koel Gallery, Karachi (2009); Emperorâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s New Clothes, Talwar Gallery, New York (2009); Lets Talk: Five Pakistani Artists in Dialogue, Jam Jar Gallery, Dubai (2008); 26/04/08, Grey Noise, Alhamra Arts Council, Lahore (2008) and Kalakriti Gallery, Hyderabad, India (2007). Jatoi lives and works in Lahore.

Sepia Boy, 2010

Fakeero Fakeero was born in Tando Allahyar, Sindh in 1979. He recently showed work at a group exhibition at Canvas Gallery, Karachi (2009). Fakeero has worked as a sculptor since 2000, realizing commissions for numerous Hindu temples in Sindh and Balochistan. He has also worked on commissions for other contemporary artists in Pakistan. Fakeero lives and works in Tando Allahyar.

Untitled, 2010

Untitled, 2009

Untitled, 2008

Krishna, 2010

Imran Channa Imran Channa was born in 1981 in Bhirkan, Sindh. He received his BFA (2004) and MA (Visual Arts) in 2008 from the National College of Arts, Lahore. Recent exhibitions of his work include the solo exhibition, Badshahnama at TM Project, Geneva (2010). Recent group exhibitions include Canvas Gallery, Karachi (2010); The Havelian Express, CAIS Gallery, Hong Kong (2009); Tradition and Tension, Art Scene Gallery, Karachi (2009); Patrons of Oh My God! I can Buy Art, Grey Noise, Lahore (2009); Redo Pakistan, Other Asias, Dhaka, Karachi, Lahore and London (2009); Starring the Artist, Indus Valley Gallery, Karachi (2009); Young Artists, Alhamra Arts Council, Lahore (2008); Dropping Tears Together (performance) at Alhamra Arts Council, Lahore; and Places Real and Imagined, Alhamra Arts Council, Lahore (2006). Imran Channa lives and works in Lahore.

Memories 1, 2009

Memories 2, 2009

Memories 3, 2009

Memories 4, 2009

Mohammad Ali Talpur Mohammad Ali Talpur was born in Hyderabad, Sindh in 1976. He received his BFA (1998) and MA (Visual Arts) in 2001 from the National College of Arts (NCA), Lahore. He has shown work in solo exhibtions at Rohtas Gallery, Lahore (2009); Art and Public, Geneva (2008); Green Cardamom at Space Gallery, London (2007); Canvas Gallery, Karachi (2007); and Zahoor ul Akhlaq Gallery, Lahore (2006). Recent group exhibitions include Koel Art Gallery, Karachi (2010); Friends of Canvas, Canvas Gallery, Karachi (2008); Pakistan Pavilion, Dubai Art Fair, UAE (2008); Letâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Draw a Line, Chawkandi Gallery, Karachi (2008); Punctured and Unravelled, Green Cardamom, London (2007). Mohammad Ali Talpur has taught at the NCA, Lahore since 2000, and lives and works in that city.

Leeka, 2009

Nizam Dahiri Nizam Dahiri was born in Tando Allahyar, Sindh in 1975. He received his BFA in 2002 from the National College of Arts, Lahore. Recent solo exhibitions have included My Studentsâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; Portraits, Sindh Museum, Hyderabad (2008). He has also shown work in group exhibitions at Canvas Gallery, Karachi (2009) and Art Scene Gallery, Karachi (2009). Dahiri is a lecturer (Painting) at the Centre of Excellence, Art and Design, MUET, Jamshoro.

Split drawing, 2010

Split drawing, 2009

Memories 5, 2009

Split drawing, 2009

www.greencardamom.net/Fatah/translation.html

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