Written by: Hamad Ali
Posted on: September 27, 2019 | 
Zhayedan Abu Nawas Ibn Quzman
José Esteban Muñoz begins his book, cruising utopia: the then and there of queer futurity (2009), which provide a unique framework in which to think about existence of sexualities in individual bodies and the community at large. It provokes us to imagine and work towards better ways of being, whilst acknowledging present systematic injustices that treat experiences as abnormalities. “Tomorrow We Inherit the Earth: Notes from Guerrilla War” opened at Sanat Gallery on 24th September. The artist, Zulfikar Ali Bhutto Jr., envisions and explores similar themes while thinking about bodily and ideological resistances.
A seeming extension of his Mussalman Musclesman series, Bhutto exhibited mixed media tapestries, which attempt to use the feminine and indigenous craft of embroidery and textile based art to create a landscape of a fictitious and futuristic sexuality and gender-subversive rebellion. Set in the future of an earth that may or may not belong to us, this revolution is seen through the eyes of a queer Muslim world intent on ousting the shackles of western imperialism.
Hathiyar patch
The male body is seen by the West as, in the words of R. W. Connell, a practice that legitimizes men's dominant position in society, and justifies the subordination of the common male population, women, and other marginalized ways of being a man. The ideal imaginary of a hegemonic man is a hypermasculine, cis-gendered, able-bodied political leader or a violent fighter. Bhutto inverts this imagination by creating glamorous and high femme future guerrilla fighters, who do not fit neatly into categories of gender, race, faith, threat or desirable subject. His life-sized tapestries feature screen printed bulky masculine figures, which are laden with kitsch florals, sequins, and flashy laces.
Tomorrow We Inherit the Earth
Kavita Daiya illuminates the complex racial articulation of colonial masculinity in nineteenth-century India. Taking up the colonial rhetoric about British masculinity, and the stereotype of the “effeminate” Bengali Babu, she uncovers the historical production of specific masculinities, the “manly Englishman” and the “effeminate babu”, as categories that mark colonial contestation and signal colonial power. The work Shaam, captures brown men caught in action of knocking each other down in a match of Kushti. These bodies are further feminized by an overt use of florals and shimmer to complete the composition. Bhutto makes an audacious declaration that the queer future which subverts the notions of space, time and race testifies that there is no space for the hegemonic, English, white supremacist, and a cis-gendered man in future. The queer future is of color, for color.
Bhutto renders his works like Flora Bazooka, Imtiaz, Taj, and Gulshan, in which he repeatedly composed printed weapons on the surfaces which emerged as a response to Islamic geometric patterns. Generated from such simple forms as the circle and the square, geometric patterns are combined, duplicated, interlaced, and arranged in intricate combinations, makes a comment on the underlying tones of homonationalism, which is an intersection between nationalism and queer identities. The western society, from where the weapons such as tanks and guns are derived from, is queered by the use of Islamic art and patchwork. Bhutto uses homonationalist imagery as a response to Islamophobia.
Imtiaz
Furthermore, Bhutto’s Sindhi heritage, and the idea of patchwork itself comes from a very specific Sindhi art of making Ralli. Rallis are made only with fabric, thread, needles and scissors. Scraps of cotton fabric dyed to the desired color and then cut into geometrical shaped pieces are joined together to create long quilts. Much like Bhutto’s work, majority of the fabric comes from old and worn clothing and textile items from the home. The women who make the quilts rely on their own memories, and the memories of their mothers and older women to teach them the patterns. These memories come from a very specific lineage of color blocking, and patterns from the art of Miniature. These memories, in physical forms, are handed down to generations in order to keep this traditional art practice alive. The traditional colors of rallis are called satrangi – consisting of seven colors. Similar to the seven colors which form the pride flag which connects this Sindhi art form to the wider social context of this show.
Mustaq-bel 2
Where this show asks and responds to important questions around queer existence, religion, masculinity, and future; curatorial it falls short. The space of the new massive Sanat did no justice to the vibrant, life-sized tapestries of Bhutto. The scale of the space inappropriately juxtaposed with that of the work, breaking the synergy which would have existed had the space been smaller. I also feel that we were not the audience to Bhutto’s work, because the imagery and motifs are very commonly found in South Asia, and are not as controversial here. And if art should excite and provoke, creating discord and subverting expectations must be a part of the process.
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