What lies behind our static, mild and impotent landscapes
Monsoon is a long-awaited season in Pakistan. It liberates us from oppressive heat and brings pleasant showers, and a general drop in temperature. Unlike say Europe where the ubiquitous rain is often cursed, here in the subcontinent it is welcomed with food, frolicking and singing.
But monsoon also creates havoc. In cities, it brings down dilapidated houses and causes deaths. It also leads to floods which displace thousands, rob them of their precious belongings, destroy crops and result in death of humans and cattle. At some places it is seen as divine punishment, and life is resumed till the tragedy is repeated again.
In other months too, we witness a harshness of seasons. For most part of the year, we have oppressive heat and harsh sun which makes it difficult for people to come out and work in the open. Yet, people do perform their task in unbearable conditions. In cities, labourers are working in the scorching heat while in villages farmers are toiling regardless of the stifling atmosphere.
Nature transformed with the change of season is a subject for many painters. In landscape -- a generic name that includes scenes of fields, seas and cities -- one finds a fondness for portraying one’s surroundings. Various parts of Pakistan have generated different kinds of landscapes. For example, in Punjab many artists are depicting fields, trees, streams and adobe houses, whereas in Quetta and other areas of Balochistan the popular subject comprises mountains, shepherds, goats, nomads and their tents. In Karachi, a number of artists have been rendering boats and sea in their watercolours besides making images of old sections of the metropolis. In other towns of Pakistan, portraying streets, alleys and buildings has been a favourite set of imagery for many painters.
As you walk early in the morning in a park during the months of monsoon, struggle your way driving on a road submerged in water, or watch settlements covered with a sheet of water (of course on tv!), you are reminded of the landscapes available at some galleries and adorning several houses. A tranquil, static and peaceful side of nature is presented in these landscapes. Likewise, an ideal view of a city with lanes, houses and blue sky, occasionally with sparse clouds, is a preferred picture to present.
This happens only in landscape but is not the only view all the time. Yet, all of these do not hold any interest for painters who claim to depict reality; but for them, reality is a limited vision and version of actuality. This isn’t much different from the picture-postcard mentality of a tourist who enjoys good weather, contemplates ‘beautiful’ scenery or is attracted to a past with crumbling walls and narrow pathways.
For many artists living and working in Pakistan, the extraordinary aspects of nature that disrupt the normal course of life is a huge miss. Perhaps, the reason for our mild -- or should one say impotent -- landscapes is that the artists are not eager to experience or experiment with the change of weather or the harshness of nature. They are content with producing subjects which are typical but not ‘lived’ in the true sense or essence. Thus, the idea and scope of landscape is reduced to a tamed view that is acceptable and, more importantly, identifiable. Because only in perfect conditions is one able to recognise the features of an urban or pastoral setting; otherwise, these lose their ‘identity’.
More than the fear of losing the identity of their subjects and locations, one suspects the artists are interested not in reality but in its superficial reproduction. The majority of viewers are also interested in that sort of picturesque representation of local landscape; so our artists have reduced it to that one dimension of nature.
One hopes the streets flooded with water, sky darkened with black clouds, traffic stuck in mayhem, a sea ready for storm also capture the imagination of our artists. Compared to the canvases of J.M.W. Turner, created in the first half of nineteenth century, the works of artists today look conventional and out-dated. Turner’s canvases encapsulate the effect of wind, dusk, advancing clouds, mist etc. emulating the moving mode of nature; whereas our painters are more interested in depicting objects of landscape rather than nature as a phenomenon with unbounded limitations.
John Berger quotes an anecdote of a woman travelling to London in a train, where Turner sitting on the opposite seat took his head out of the window to experience rain and fog. Looking at the ‘landscapes’ of Turner, one becomes aware of how the painter was more keen in capturing the experience of being in nature than merely ‘looking’ at it.
Even if one decides to look at nature, one needs to open multiple facades to approach reality. An artist needs to explore dimensions which have not been envisioned by the ordinary. So, to some extent, the responsibility of discovering the new dimensions of landscape is on our painters. In a sense, our national flag is a stylised version of a landscape with a section of white (sky) and the major portion of earth in the form of green patch, along with the crescent and moon. One could argue that the green of our flag represents the Muslim population but internationally green is associated with environment; hence the Green Party in Europe and North America and green politics in other countries of the world.