Written by: Nimra Khan
Posted on: November 07, 2019 | | 中文
The Biennale madness is still underway as KB19 is in full gear, on view at 7 (down to 6, but more on that later) venues that bring works by 98 artists, from 16 countries. The second iteration of the Biennale invited artists to respond to the theme of ecology, with the intriguing title “Flight Interrupted: eco-leaks from the invasion desk”, referring to the interrupted flight patterns of low flying birds as a direct and indirect result of a vertical development and urban greed.
The theme remains broad-based, and challenges artists to address not only ecological, economic and social aspects of it, but also looks at the cultural dimension. This iteration, however, is roiling in controversy that stirs up pertinent questions of censorship, free speech, and the power dynamics that complicate the agenda of large-scale public art platforms like the Karachi Biennale.
The chosen venues for this iteration offer wider possibilities of public engagement, and sit well with the theme of ecology, with beautiful spaces like the Karachi Zoo, Bagh ibn Qasim and Frere Hall. It was heartening to see the wider public engage with artworks, breaking the social, economic and cultural barriers that art is usually secluded behind. It is also exciting to see that a number of these works, such as Abdul Jabbar Gul sculpture at Bagh ibn Qasim, and Qinza Najm’s interactive sculpture at the Karachi Zoo, will be added as permanent public artworks that will have a lasting impact on the city’s public spaces.
The largest venue with the most works was Bagh ibn Qasim, which was also the site for the opening ceremony and many of the performance art on the opening night. Some of the more notable works included sculptures by Abdul Jabbar Gul and Amin Gulgee, installations by R.M Naeem and Seher Naveed, and an interactive installation by Sohail Zuberi. The sheer scale of some of these works and the expanse of space they occupied, took full advantage of the public setting and open skies.
Naeem uses symbols of life and death executed in red and green dried chili peppers spread across the length of the pier at the center of the park, to talk about the hardships one goes through to get to the “red carpet” of power and influence. Naveed’s work is an interesting juxtaposition of geometric minimalist shapes in industrial colors popping out of the green organic growth of the grass underneath, creating a 3-D illusion of sorts. The “drowning” shipping containers seem like floating dead bodies, remnants from a time when the area was underwater, bringing our attention to the ways in which man has overcome nature and perhaps someday will again be reclaimed by it.
Sohail Zuberi’s installation similarly responds to the site itself, and creates a playground that evokes the sensation of rocking in a boat, referring to the boats that once floated here. The installation is created out of wreckage material collected by the artist over a period of several years. This makes the work a poetic commentary on the relationship of man with his environment, and the ways in which one effects the other.
At the Karachi Zoo, many works again respond to the site successfully, yet there was more to be desired in terms of space. One expected more of an immersive experience, rather than art being pushed to a corner. Some of the more exciting works were Khalil Chishtee’s signature trash bag sculptures hanging hand in hand, like tortured spirits in the monkey cage, Munawar Ali Syed’s dead elephant covered in a sheet of lined paper, and Qinza Najm and Saks Afridi’s collaborative interactive sculpture in stainless steel, “Don’t Grow Up, It’s a Trap”.
Chishtee’s work offers poignant social commentary which takes on new layers of meaning within the context of the monkey cage in a pre-partition, colonial-era location, and within the curatorial premise of ecology. Najm and Afridi’s work is a visual delight, again jarring due to the dichotomous presence of metal within the dense vegetation, yet intriguing in the way it gels with its surroundings, reflecting the greenery around it and becoming one with it. As one rides on the seesaw, the reflective wall creates a barrier, with an opening in the middle that only allows children to see each other, while the adults are left to only see themselves and reflect on their vanity, narcissism, self-absorption and self-interest.
Another venue with the strongest works was Frere Hall, where again the possibilities offered by the gardens went mostly unexplored, yet the installations indoors brought some of the biggest names of the Pakistani art world, including Rashid Rana, Imran Qureshi and Adeela Suleman.
However, the unfortunate events of 27th October pertaining to the works of Suleman led to a premature shut down of the entire venue. Suleman’s work addressed the ecologies of violence which we as citizens are both victims of and complicit in, particularly the 444 killings carried out by Rao Anwar for which he is currently facing trial. The work was first shut down, and later demolished and removed by authorities, and the Karachi Biennale Trust proceeded to abandon and disown their artist. Public outrage ensued, and the attempts to silence the voice of truth and cry for justice backfired, as the news spread like fire across social media and made it to international headlines, reaching a far greater number of people than it perhaps would have, had it been left alone.
The incident and its reverberations within the art community and beyond created something much more significant than the artwork alone ever could have hoped to, with artists lining up in droves to lend their physical, moral and virtual support to the artist. It became almost a performative exercise, a statement in itself, a loud affirmation of the control, oppression, and systemic violence that Suleman was questioning. In the harsh words of Khurram Kasim, “In hindsight, this work did fit the theme of ecology and environment. The people of this city continue to be treated like garbage, the one commodity that is so ubiquitous in the city. We are all part of a big pile of rotten, stinking trash!”
It is unfortunate that these issues of censorship and suppression eclipsed the success of many of the art exhibits, and the hard work put in by the other participating artists and curatorial team. The silencing of one voice became deafening, and drowned out the other 97 voices, whose freedom of expression the KBT was presumably attempting to preserve. It also makes one question whether the notion of public art in a city like Karachi is a futile effort, with the fears that lingered just beneath the surface, finally bubbling up. It lay bare the fragility of the farce we live in, our sense of security and autonomy as citizens quickly unraveling. If public art cannot speak for the public, then what is the point of art being in the public sphere?
While one can sympathize with the fine line that binds the hands of the organizers, one also shudders at the sinister implications of this nearsighted decision. They might have saved the Biennale from forceful shutdown in the short term. But they have inadvertently set the tone for future iterations, lost their credibility and respect in the art community, and perhaps even put their long term survival at risk. All it will be reduced to, in its attempt to appease the gods of the public realm, is another front to cover up the dirty truth, put up appearances, hide the skeletons in our closets, and “beautify” the city with pretty, a-political flowery fields and rose-tinted views.
For more pictures please click here.
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