Meher Afroz’s reputation as a prolific printmaker and painter reflects modernity rooted in a traditionalist approach to image-making. Afroz was born in Lucknow in 1948 and completed her undergraduate studies in fine arts from the Government College of Arts and Crafts, Lucknow, in 1971. She began her formal art practice soon after migration to Karachi in the early ’70s and was awarded the Pride of Performance by the government of Pakistan in 2014.

EOS sat down with the celebrated artist for an interview. Excerpts follow:

Your ‘Mask’ and ‘Puppet’ series (1989), and the ‘Amulet’ series (1992-94) and other early ones of paintings have been a critique of our societal values. Is that a valid reading?

I did these in my middle-age, a time when you start to consolidate your viewpoint. I wanted to refer to cultural objects symbolic of a regional identity, such as masks, puppets or amulets. The artisans making puppets tell their stories through them. I was addressing their aesthetics. The physical mask was also a symbol of duality and deceit. Puppet strings symbolised the use of the power to dictate. The understanding of insaaf or justice is at the crux of human development, and formed the centre of my study. Taaviz or dua is part of our cultural thought, so these were the very references that emerged in my early work.

We wear different masks in our daily lives. My challenge had been on how to paint this, to consider the nature of my visual language. That is why there were layers in my paintings. It was not only to explore my medium but to hint, how much to reveal. The medium must hold strength in beauty and latafat (finesse). That has been part of the process of my painting and search.

Seasoned artist Meher Afroz reflects on the nature of her practice and the art world

Your early work distinguished you from many of your contem­poraries. I reme­mber speaking to the late art critic Marium Habib, of the Lahore Art Circle in the late ’80s, and she thought that you were the only outstanding artist of your generation. How was your early work received?

I submitted my prints for the first time at the National Exhibition held at the Arts Council, Karachi, in 1973. It was a turning point for me. These were an edition of etchings and collagraphs of mark-making akin to cave painting. Judges such as Zubeida Agha and Ali Imam noticed me. There were very few printmakers at that time such as Ghulam Rasul, Zahoor ul Akhlaque, Ghazanfar Ali, Ahmad Khan. Zubaida Agha invited me to visit her Islamabad gallery. That was a big honour. Bashir Mirza asked me to exchange work with him. Imam Sahib, in an introduction of artists at the Columbus Hotel, introduced me as ‘a painters’ painter.’ I was embarrassed by the attention, because there were other good artists around me such as Lubna Agha, Nahid Raza, Sumbul Nazir, etc.

Imam Sahib even told me that it was an khula maidaan (open ground) for me, but I thought what is the point if there were no competition. I received an award at the National Exhibition in 1977, held in Islamabad by the Pakistan National Council of the Arts, and won consecutively thrice, in printmaking. The national exhibitions were held every four years and a lot of accomplished writers and artists got to interact. Among others, I had the privilege of meeting Intizar Hussain. I said something to him in relation to my work, not knowing of his being the great writer, and it became a cover story in Akhbar-i-Jehan!

What was the impact of migration on you as an artist?

My family migrated early, but I stayed behind as I knew that there was no art college in Karachi. I was a position holder and was getting a graduate studies scholarship, but I had to leave at the time of the 1971 war to join my family in Karachi. They were worried, as the post was not regular and communication was difficult, and my father wanted us to be together. I did leave behind the opportunity to take part in national and provincial shows and seminars there. Look at us now, we haven’t learnt from history. I might not have gone into the direction I did had it not been for what I witnessed after migration, because my experiences were in a more unprotected environment. The challenges of dealing with people as an independent artist where people did not know me, was a learning experience.

In the last 45 years, I have only witnessed seven or eight national shows, and the quality of those too has gone down. In 1988, Khalid Saeed Butt organised the only Biennial.

What is the essence of art from your viewpoint? Are you uneasy about the contemporary ‘noise’ around you?

If you consider that Mirza Ghalib offered his entire diwan in lieu of one verse by Momin Khan Momin, you can begin to understand the true essence of a creative soul, to be willing to bend so far in humbleness to knowledge:

“Tum mere paas hote ho goya,
Jab koi doosra nahin hota”

Until there is an inkishaaf [revevation], the act of ‘laying bare, without concealment’, there can be no artist.

Published in Dawn, EOS, July 2nd, 2017