I have known Sabiha Qureshi aka SQ since 1964. Somewhere, somehow, she went into hiding — or oblivion — perhaps because she is publicity-shy.

Long lost in the City of Lights, SQ is the daughter of Prof Hameeda Qureshi of genetics department at the University of Karachi. The professor was known for being a strict disciplinarian. Clearly, SQ has inherited some of her mother’s traits, including stubbornness. A qualified visual artist, she stuck to a particular style which, however, would be peculiar only to a few. She drew inspiration from her subconscious mind, knocking around her blind spots. This I know because she was the only student of Prof Ana Molka Ahmad who had dared to criticise the palette knife paintings the professor had made rather randomly during her students’ trip to Swat, circa 1966. Yet, the then young student (SQ) was spared the wrath expected from her Polish/Russian professor.

During her student days, SQ generally painted portraits, landscapes and still-lifes, which were part of the syllabus. Drawings, water-colours, pastels, and charcoals were optional. SQ produced some wonderful water-colours some of which she got framed from a budding framer who had set up shop near the stores that sold art materials. The framer is now one of the leading art gallery owners in Lahore.

After completing my MFA in 1967, with a gold medal, I spent three years without an employment. It wasn’t exactly a sabbatical, so I was reluctant to revisit my alma mater. I got to know that SQ had got married and moved to Karachi. Years later, she got in touch. She was hoping to acquire paintings for an art gallery she was managing (in Karachi). I took her around, in my green car which had till then not qualified to be an antique item. But it turned out to be an unsuccessful venture.

Greater connectivity, via the internet, is the miracle of the present times. It was through the internet that SQ was able to trace me. When I asked her about her passion for painting, she instantly sent me a host of images — something that wouldn’t have been possible in the era of dia-positives when rolls of 36 needed to be processed abroad only. These could be viewed through an expensive still-slides projector.

Thankfully, the monopolising film companies have called it a day on the pretext of bankruptcy. Now we have the facility of film-free, instant recording as well as transmission of countless images.

The visuals sent by SQ were more than self-explanatory. When I learnt that she had a solo exhibition due soon, I was constrained to write this ‘welcome note’ for her.

Her colours are bright and clear, and include some daring reds and yellows. The subject matter is mostly woods, lined with trees that run along the zigzag pathways with the light showing through the leaves of the silhouettes.

The paintings waiting to be unveiled include mostly oils, some in knife and some aquarelles. SQ is vehemently opposed to acrylics which she rightly calls “plastic emulsion.” She knows that it dries instantly and needs a retarder which does not look like the oils.

Her colours are bright and clear, and include some daring reds and yellows. The subject matter is mostly woods, lined with trees that run along the zigzag pathways with the light showing through the leaves of the silhouettes. Most tree trunks are rather bluish, and bright light peeps out from the corners, like silver lining around clouds.

SQ rarely attempts still-life. Portraiture is used to depict the famous malangs of Sindh who seem to dance in rhythm. The folds and heavy drapery whirling around is complementary to the curls that have involuntarily formed, to the surprise of the visitors to the exhibition. The extended arm of the performing dancer adds to the balance of the figure which, thus, maintains its equilibrium. It is more like the balance of a tree whose foliage is able to carry its weight.

The drapery of the dervishes is in complementary red and blue, alternating in the shaded reliefs. The red cap and the blue girdle help assimilate the colour scheme into a harmonious whole.

Some of the portraits seem to be serious studies of acquaintances draped in appropriate apparel. Here, the cheekbones have been hidden behind the thick shawl, with only the cartilage of the nose protruding through. The heavy turban is used to cast a deep shadow over the face which gives a sense of fourth dimension — that is, movement frozen on the canvas.

In some of the impressionistic tree-scapes, we find elements of wooden architecture peeping from behind, which are suggestive of the sprawling urbanisation. However, the large whites left out would not suggest the snowy landscape of the Northern Areas.

SQ’s work is a conglomeration of still-lifes, tree studies and portraits, done in water-colours and oils. The oil done in knife is particularly thought-provoking.

(This dispatch is dedicated to Khwaja Zaheeruddin, the founder of the Lahore Conservation Society)

The writer is a painter, a founding member of Lahore Conservation Society and Punjab Artists Association, and a former director of NCA Art Gallery. He can be reached at ajazart@brain.net.pk