Ali Sultan’s paintings reveal a mind that is not at rest -- an individual who thinks, searches, experiments and yet does not find the final solution. Titles such as ‘A Picture about Arif’, ‘In the Balcony Smoking’, ‘Freer Hall’, ‘Manisha Gera Baswani Whispers Something in Tassadaq Suhail’s Ears’, and ‘Saddar’ suggest a simplicity of approach, yet the construction of his visuals conveys a complexity of concepts.
Like several other artists, Sultan is also a man deeply interested in the essence of ideas. Besides being a (self-taught) painter, he is a photographer and writer. His works, produced at the ‘Vasl Residency’ are inspired from Faiz’s poetry, but these reflect the way a person with background in literature deals with the world of images.
It is not a rule but, in most cases, artists who have had an academic training in art but are involved with fiction start seeing the act of image-making in a different scheme. Art schools teach students a strict discipline -- to portray the world around them with/on a variety of materials. This form of education is designed to impart a level of conventional skill through which a person is able to transcribe/reproduce his subject’s likeness.
Hence, the success of an artist depends on his ability to draw in a naturalistic manner. This aspect of art education has infused a sense of superiority (and authenticity) among those artists who have a great level of skill in rendering objects as we see them.
This element is also important for general appreciation because many works of art are rejected purely on the basis of not meeting the standard (which for public and many artists means to acquire and display a convincing command of academic skill). We do come across examples of this attitude where painters with years of experience pride on their ability to draw correctly, no matter if it is a neo-exotic canvas with a scantily-clad woman or a romantic pastoral scene. People are impressed with this display of ‘skill’ in rendering.
But what is the skill in literature? Fiction-writing or other genres require a craft of different kind which relates to structural, formal and philosophical issues rather than how you physically transcribe your alphabets. A book contains the words of an author, published mechanically, distributed and read in formats that are not made by the author.
So for a person with a background in literature, the matter of how a work is produced in its visual form is not as important as how it is conceived and created on other levels. But when the same individual ventures into art, for him the notion of skill is different from other, more orthodox, artists. No matter if it is Anwar Maqsood, Tassadaq Suhail, Ghani Khan or even Rabindranath Tagore, artists with a history in literature have approached the world of visual arts in a peculiar manner. Here the essence or understanding of skill is not about how to draw your images, but how you construct and conceive them.
Similarities of this sort are evident in the work of Ali Sultan, since these convey his concerns, observations and ideas and are not about a conventional concept of craft. Figures drawn with an ease and amid patches of strong hues, people and places depicted in monochromatic tones are works of visual arts, but these can be read as writings too. A viewer is offered not the absolute (and oppressive) version of reality, but is encouraged to imagine a complete totality of visual experience using his imagination and recollections of reality. Unconditioned and unconventional lines, spontaneous marks and unabashed rendering of human beings mark the purity and strength of Ali Sultan’s art. His paintings and drawings, along with his photographic works, were exhibited in ‘Residue’ (from Nov 23-28, 2015) at the Full Circle Gallery in Karachi.
The other participant who shared with him the five week long prestigious and productive ‘Vasl Residency’ was Wei Leng Tay, originally based in Hong Kong and Singapore. During her stay in Karachi, she captured the views of people who reside in ordinary houses, thus have lives that are not featured in the glossy pages of society magazines or tabloids. Her photographic works disclosed the private domain of people that is never acknowledged or admired. Snapshots of interiors with families engaged in their daily chores presented an aspect of life that is not usually the subject of art. Pictures of these peaceful homes, with people moving in and out, perched on chairs with their refreshments, or busy with their possessions alluded to a world which is often neglected due to its normality.
Both Tay and Sultan have attempted to capture and convey a reality that is in front of us, yet we are unable to confront or connect with it. It is only through an artist’s unique vision and ways of seeing that we discover extraordinary in something that is usually considered and passed on as banal.