No sooner had Pakistani artist Adeela Suleman’s exhibit opened at the Karachi Biennale last week than she had an encounter that artists, writers, journalists and activists say has become common under the current government: It was shut down.
It may be best to begin with a memory. A figure of marbled flesh stands atop a plinth, through the folds of a robe one can discern the silhouette of legs, and beneath a draped foot the name “Venus” is emblazoned darkly.
Finding the setting of the production for any object is an essential process for many people. That ‘made in’ piece of information printed on the item can start investigations that trace the history, manufacturing processes and, perhaps, even the geographical routing of the object.
Affan Baghpati’s art pieces are always intriguing enough to want me gaze them for a while to comprehend the dark humour that lies within each joint and assemblage.
What’s this bright, orangey-red, extruded-plastic bull doing here among the stone Buddhas and bronze Vishnus? The curators were hoping you’d ask.
Young, Karachi-based artist Affan Baghpati’s debut solo show in New York is a commentary and dismantling of established narratives and histories through found objects that have been meticulously and thoughtfully molded and re-formed into unique designs.
There can be many definitions of creativity, but the simplest one is: to join two different entities and get something new. We are all born through such a procedure and we employ the same formula to fabricate our artworks.
The present times demand that the English word ‘security’ be replaced by ‘insecurity’, especially in a Pakistani context. Irrespective of whether you are in a privileged sector or a low-income locality, you are sure to come across houses with an extraordinary architectural feature: security.
No sooner had Pakistani artist Adeela Suleman’s exhibit opened at the Karachi Biennale last week than she had an encounter that artists, writers, journalists and activists say has become common under the current government: It was shut down.
Show featuring artists from India, Pakistan and Bangladesh explores what it’s like to try and create beauty amid the violent feedback loop of external events.
The year 1947 marked the independence from British rule for India, Pakistan and East Pakistan (later Bangladesh). However, independence came at the cost of the partition of nations that shared a common history and culture.
In the long slow heat of a Lahore afternoon, when the day’s work has been done, women sit and sew. Anila Quayyum Agha also learned to sew, and this maternal gift has today been enshrined by her mother’s recent passing and an expansion in the artist’s practice.
Salman Toor was born in Lahore, Pakistan, and lives and works in New York City. Toor’s paintings vary in scale and style. His subjects range from autobiographical constructs to Art History and Pop Culture.
Aicon Gallery, New York proudly presents Husain at Hundred, an extensive retrospective of India’s most iconic Modern painter, M. F. Husain, in honor of what would be the artist’s 100th birthday this year, featuring landmark masterworks on canvas from every decade of Husain’s career.
The term monomania can be deĮned as “an excessive interest or enthusiasm for a single thing or idea; obsession.” In thissense, the term relatesto the work of Adeel uz Zafar both in terms of his consistently recurring subject maƩer (children’s toys eerily wrapped in gauze or bandages) and his now-signature reducƟve technique of scraping away at a black latex surface line by line to give rise to seemingly three-dimensional Įgures.
WITH CROSS-CULTURAL COLLABORATION AS ITS CORE, SEMBLANCE OF ORDER IS A TRAVELLING EXHIBITION PROMOTING AUSTRALIAN AND PAKISTANI ART AND ARTISTS ACROSS BORDERS AND PLATFORMS. IT IS THE RESULT OF AN INTERNATIONAL ARTISTS’ RESIDENCY PROGRAM DELIVERED IN PARTNERSHIP BETWEEN PARRAMATTA ARTISTS STUDIOS AND CICADA PRESS, COLLEGE OF FINE ARTS, UNIVERSITY OF NEW SOUTH WALES, SYDNEY AUSTRALIA.
In the beginning was love. In the end is Ma. We are told that at midnight during a lunar eclipse twelve newlyweds and a priestess gather in a circle after a mass wedding to talk. Rati Chakravyuh is an unfolding of their conversation spanning the history of the universe as we orbit them.
In 1964, Faberge launched Brut for Men, their now immensely popular fragrance, in an attempt to create a new male market within the traditionally feminine realm of perfumes.