As a batchmate of Farhad Humayun at the National College of Arts, Lahore, from 1997 to 2000, I often marvelled at his ability to push the limits of creative expression.
As a distinctive percussion experimenter — mostly with drums in college days and later with a new genre of sound and performance mixed with dhammal in his characteristic use of Urdu/Punjabi lyrics — Farhad became a phenomenon, as did his band Overload. His energy was magnetic, quickly drawing people into his orbit — making the vernacular expression “haan yaar” famous in his unique voice and style.
Alas, he is gone too soon.
The Farhad Humayun Foundation (FHF) was born in 2023 from the unwavering love and vision of his mother, Professor Navid Shahzad, and his sister, Rima Shahzad Bokhari, who carried forward this extraordinary legacy. ‘Alif’, the foundation’s inaugural project, which is taking place at Riot Studios perched atop SITE 78 in Lahore, is not just an exhibition but a living, breathing celebration of Farhad’s ethos through experimental soundscapes, visual narratives and archival practices.
‘Alif’ comprises of a limited-edition box-print portfolio exhibit of 12 renowned Pakistani visual artists — Afshar Malik, Anwar Saeed, Ayesha Jatoi, Farazeh Syed, Imran Qureshi, Laila Rehman, Naazish Ata-Ullah, Risham Syed, Sajid Khan, Salima Hashmi, Suleman Aqeel Khilji and Usman Saeed.
All of them responded to the call to create new metaphors and draw unseen analogies through symbolic representations — blended words, sound and visual art.
In memory of the musician Farhad Humayun, 12 artists come together to present their experimental artworks inspired by his distinctive music
Hashmi’s print, Amrita’s Dream, beautifully encapsulates time’s ethereal and fleeting quality. The weathered architecture and delicate foliage evoke a dreamlike memory, reminiscent of Amrita Sher-Gil’s connection to heritage, space and transience — suggesting unspoken stories. The lyrics next to the print, “We began to fly boundlessly, this caravan will not stop”, imitates the limitless imagination and enduring legacy reflected in the print’s timelessness.
The technique of chine-collé amplifies the poetic and ephemeral layers. Together, they form an emotional tribute to Gil and Humayun, as they both died far too young. “Whatever is written, therefore, it is,” goes a translation from Humayun’s song ‘Ho janay do’ [Let it happen].
Malik’s arresting blue-hued print Glass Ball intricately negotiates identity, memory and alter ego, combined with reflective and evocative poetic strokes. The skeletal figure, adorned with regal motifs and seated amid intricate joyful patterns, embodies and mirrors the emotional weight of Humayun’s lines from his song ‘Murr ke dekho’ [Turn to look]: “I have been wearing this face for so long — wandering through the streets with my hands stretched out.”
The fragmented and ornate details in print echo the words and sound of the symphony — the consonant rhyme of entangled confusions has long dwelled in hearts and shards of centuries-old harmonic fragments. Malik’s depiction suggests the complexities of human emotions and the interplay between fragility and resilience — maybe through the fortune-telling glass ball.
Saeed’s conspicuous print, Growing Wing, and Farhad’s heartfelt lyrics from his song ‘Main hoon’ [Hence, I am] combine to explore longing, self-analysis and transformation. In the presence of a few powerful silhouettes in the background, Saeed’s solitary figure with a single growing wing reminds one of another iteration of Kafka’s Metamorphosis. One can’t fly with one wing, metaphorically becoming an anomaly in society.
Both works, textual and visual, draw viewers into a universal dialogue on vulnerability and pliability. The winged figure’s defiance parallels the persistent breath in the libretto, embodying one’s strength to accept reality and live with it firmly. Together, they celebrate the enduring power of human desire, art and reflection to transcend barriers and transform inner landscapes.
A multi-layered examination of love, vulnerability and the unspoiled connection is created in Syed’s print Mahi, which exquisitely accompanies Humayun’s sensitive song with the namesake. The lyrical and emotional profundity of the song is embodied by the anatomical heart in Syed’s artwork. Invoking the bittersweet dichotomy of love, a source of great power and delicate fragility, the white, blind debossed outline positioned aside the green-hued heart creates a subtle and dynamic image that changes with the angle of light. It mimics the presence and absence of one’s lover.
Ata-Ullah’s evocative monochromatic print, which takes connotation from ‘Jeet’ [Victory], utters poignant duality by juxtaposing triumph and loss — a paradox. The print’s minimalist yet striking silhouette of Humayun with bold typography emphasises absence, while creating an enduring presence, resonating deeply with the song’s expressive crux. The artwork and music form a dialogue between sorrow and strength, exploring how victory often arises from loss and adversity, transcending personal struggles to inspire the collective spirit.
Humayun’s groundbreaking instrumental band, Overload, is celebrating its 20th anniversary at the same time as this well-conceived and immaculately curated show. ‘Alif’ also has special meaning since it commemorates Humayun’s final rendition of Sultan Bahoo’s ‘Alif Allah — Chambe di booti’.
‘Alif’ is on display from November 6-December 6, 2024 at Riot Studios, Lahore
The writer is an art/design critic. He heads the Department of Visual Communication Design at the Mariam Dawood School of Visual Arts and Design, Beaconhouse National University, Lahore. He can be reached at aarish.sardar@gmail.com
Published in Dawn, EOS, November 24th, 2024
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