Toulouse-Lautrec made them and so did Andy Warhol. Since the dawn of the 20th century, when they first became popular in Europe, posters have occupied a middle ground somewhere between high art and commercial advertisement. They have covered every conceivable subject, some more popular, and some more profitable than others. A few even moved from domestic hobby to high-stakes passion. Like the 1939 poster of ‘The adventures of Sherlock Holmes’ which fetched $4,000 at an auction.

There is a long and complex relationship between art and advertising, both creative endeavours, which becomes apparent in the poster. The appeal and success of a design and the accompanying message has at times been gauged by the extent to which shoppers ask for a particular product in preference to a competitor’s. It is as simple as that.

At the end of the 19th century, posters attracted a vast new audience of middle-class consumers caught up in a revolution of rising expectations. Such posters also had aesthetic qualities that enabled them to outlast their initial purpose which might have had a commercial basis, eventually taking a place among the world’s most popular collectibles.

Beautiful, striking and brimming with information they brightened the dark walls of the London Underground. The range of the pictures is remarkable — from idyllic water colours promoting weekend escapades to the countryside, to urging citizens to trace the latest fashions and absorb the artistic styles of the time. They also adorned the walls of cafes and restaurants with the finest of Toulouse-Lautrec, Renoir and Picasso. The visuals that I admired most were the French, Spanish and German railway posters executed in Art Nuevo style which were absolutely riveting.

Posters don’t always advertise a product or a service. They also promote an idea or a concept like free speech or fascism or socialism. Like the concept of the master race executed during the Third Reich when Nazi posters advertised films like Der Rebel and Hans Westmar, and the mother of all propaganda films — Leni Riefenstahl’s brilliant, eternal classic Triumph of the Will. Of course, the socialists in the Soviet Union were not too far behind, though the thrust of their propaganda effort was aimed at extolling the worker.

In recent times posters have promoted universal themes. ‘Education for All’, which was the topic of the 2012 exhibition held in collaboration with the Human Rights Commission of Pakistan and the Arts Council, was exhibited at this premier gallery last year. And visitors can get an official peek at the same premises with ‘A Home for Everyone’ which is the theme for the 2013 competition. A staggering 3461 posters were submitted to an online jury of 50 men and 50 women representing 50 different nationalities.

The entries were winnowed down to a shortlist of 400 and finally 100. I noticed quite a few of the selected posters came from Latin America, especially Bolivia. If I had been entrusted with the task of deciding the three best posters it would be the entries from Rousseau Mathieu of Canada entitled, ‘Where are you sleeping tonight?’; Ali Tomak of Turkey entitled, ‘Subway for the homeless’; and Tomaso Marcolla of Italy entitled, ‘Unable’. But … this is a purely subjective choice.

The rules of tragedy are immutable. Rousseau Mathieu’s ephemeral footnote, in which he used the concept of a Single Dissimilarity, is the most outstanding of the collection. The composition where a bright orange bench stands out against a morass of gray housing, is simple and straightforward. Yet it is subtle and direct … and peculiarly cruel. There is a great deal of pathos in the silence. Every viewer gets to wince. It is a visual that he cannot forget.

In ‘Subway for the homeless’ by Ali Tomak, there is more than a pinch of self-administered aversion therapy here, which may be why it is so compelling. At first glance the composition looks like a straightforward map of the Underground. But, dig deeper and you will find a reality check, a corkscrew of cynicism, our parlous relationship with wealth, as the fig leaf of prosperity is tossed out of the window.

Tomaso Marcolla’s entry with its block of pigeon holes wrapped in barbed wire is an unparalleled visual chronicle. Designed to shock, it is also an enlivening piece of work, gritty and coarse with a touch of malice. A bucketful of organic new-age anxiety. The visuals are certainly worth a visit.

The exhibition, ‘Poster for Tomorrow’ is being held at The Arts Council, Karachi from Jan 24 to Jan 26, 2014.