Fact in fiction

One doesn’t want to sound too old by mentioning Star Trek I, but the Sci-Fi series still captivates its audience even after more than five decades. In one of the episodes (probably anticipating Email), the characters stand at one point in their spaceship, press a button, turn into particles, and in no time are transported to and reassembled at another location.

Artists also perform this miracle through multiple means, even if not in the physical sense. During their creative process, they transform themselves into different entities at imaginary places. Often in these sojourns, the viewer accompanies the creator and has the same experience as intended by the maker of the art work.

Iqbal Geoffrey is perhaps the best example of this phenomenon in our age. Apart from his name (the surname Jafri is changed to Geoffrey!) that reveals the identity of a man living in two worlds, his art testifies a personality that is not split but is spread to various hemispheres. These range from geographical locations to two aspects of his profession -- Art and Law. It is not surprising he prefers the genre of collage for expressing his ideas -- a genre that deals with cutting and joining different parts or images.

The monograph on Iqbal Geoffrey, published by The National Art Gallery, Islamabad, brings forth this aspect of the artist’s life and work. Titled The Art of Iqbal Geoffrey and edited by Zoha Haider, the book consists of texts by Norbert Lynton, Suellen Weinstein Liker, Carly Fiorina and a few others.

Like the sense of similarity in the works of Geoffrey reproduced in the volume, the writings of different authors do not vary much. A majority of them including that of Lynton concentrate on the achievement of the artist, who received various awards and prizes (like the Paris Biennale Award in 1965) for his contributions to the world of art and justice. This is supported with a comprehensive section on the artist’s life with authors like Hinna Abbas, Dr Andrew M. Conte, Oshiro Saima Cid and Dr Shana Sadiq highlighting different segments such as Select Bibliography, Art Experience, Awards and Honours.

It is not surprising that such a wide range of individuals seem in harmony when they express their opinions on Iqbal Geoffrey. In a way it is his work, life and accomplishments which made writers from Norbert Lynton to describe him in such terms: "No artist before him has displayed such stunning commitment and expertise over collage-making as too towards making a difference. In fact, he posits that all art of consequence is essentially ‘composite’ which engines fusion and fuels change. Geoffrey tempers truthfulness with razor sharp tensions. Or vice versa."

Hinna Abbas writes, "The artist manifests zero tolerance for Everyday Mediocrity as well as our pervasive albeit diseased prominence of diesel-deficient, semi-imported memsahibs and other percolating-dumplings (whom he occasionally gives a good luck which is a four letter word)."

Even if the words of different authors appear similar in tone and content, one cannot neglect the various dimensions of his art discussed by them. In a sense his work -- highly conceptual though it may look formal on the surface -- complements these words, because these illustrate the product of an interesting and intelligent individual who, besides being a visual artist, is active as a human rights lawyer as well.

However, the most important aspect of Iqbal Geoffrey is his unique frame of mind that creates a narrative in which it is difficult to separate fact from fiction -- like a great piece of literature. A novice keeps pressing on the need of finding actuality, without realising the relativeness of these terms. In her preface, the monograph’s editor Zoha Haider quotes Picasso: "Art is a lie which makes you see the truth!". Likewise, all the material on Geoffrey makes one see the truth of art, particularly the genius of a person who had astonished viewers with his avant-garde works as early as 1969. He showed blank canvases with captions such as ‘This Painting Went For A Walk’, or ‘This Painting Has Gone For A Swim’, etc.

The tradition of surprising the art world through his incredibly innovative and inventive pieces and performances has continued ever since, with several landmarks that are aptly but briefly mentioned in the texts.

In fact the focus of the book is on his collages, with a few reproductions of his other works for example In Search of an Ideal Landscape, mixed media on canvas (1964-65), which confirms the ease in handling the medium and his sophisticated aesthetics -- features that can be observed in his later and latest collages. From the painterly surfaces of 1960s, the idea of landscape is now treated with application of diverse marks on clippings of various newspapers and magazines, with title like ‘No Thank You: Landscape’ (1990-01).

But that’s just one example or sample, since the book contains a large number of his works: drawings and collages from 1941 to 2008, thus presenting a comprehensive view of an artist’s ideas, concerns and pictorial strategies.

As expected the works comment upon the political situation of the country and the condition of art but all with a exuberant and exquisite sense of humour which is not only reflected in the uncanny way he constructs his imagery but also in their unexpected titles. Thus the book, like any other publication on art, offers a link of the images and words without making one subservient to the other. In some cases, titles such as A Brand New Collage as a New Wakeup Call and several others can be enjoyed independently.

The book, from the beginning to end and from the words to visuals, reminds one of the distinguished personality and distinct presence of Iqbal Geoffrey. The last chapter What I think About Geoffrey’s Nemeses by Khalid Hasan is not marked in the table of content, but one attributes this absence as a gesture on the part of Geoffrey to make the reader imagine and yearn for the missing text.

Here the art of Geoffrey takes over all the writings on his art, echoing his own words: ‘Art is criticism of art criticism’.