Refreshingly Green-Karara exhibition

A babble of excited voices wafted out from Granduer, just off the café boutique studded Zamzama. Behind the glassy doors of the furniture outlet swirled the high pitched chatter of upcoming artists, expatiating their views and works to their friends, and the young and glistening eager aesthetes huddled around, while every inch of the premises crawled with flashing cameras, commentators, interviewers and TV crew difficult not to trip over.
Waiters sailed past with clinking glasses and other more material fare for the body to add to the manna for the soul. The ambience was decidedly charged, electric with optimistic enthusiasm as doyens of the design industry chose to promote young graduates fresh out from their art academies.
One of the objectives of the owner of the outlet Neshmia was to help introduce the artists to a varied audience; to open the artworks to a wider public in an alternative gallery; and hence to make them more accessible, rather than restricting them to only the elite. I suppose since anyone from the street can walk in, it is like bridging the gap between the different strata, allowing them to hear other's points of view while allowing young voices to express themselves--a kind of exchange of thoughts.
The name 'Karara' as the title of the exhibition means fresh, as in the fresh graduates or talent, and the aura was refreshingly 'green', a far cry from the usual staid openings, with the same old, tired faces.('Karara', Auj A Khan, the organiser explained, "is a platform for young artists to express themselves and be introduced to the public. "It is an ongoing process which entails more future exhibitions to introduce young artists)
The event was certainly high profile, with camera crews from many of the channels, the artists themselves aglow, on a high. Maybe what was striking was the accessibility of the works and artists as well as the organisers as they mingled around explaining their works, inviting them to enter into their personal space.
A trend evident over the past one or two years, reflecting perhaps the growing awareness and appreciation of art and artists. But, excitingly, as one of the participants of the show commented, the audience drew the interest of a wider segment of society, that usually doesn't visit exhibitions, rather than being restricted to the usual art connoisseurs and art students. The approach and views of the artists, too, appeared refreshingly optimistic and novel, even though their underlying themes may be darker and deeper, commenting mostly on their socio-political environs.
Despite their somber themes, the overall impact of the works was still of airy lightness and beauty. From Samar Zia's attempts to understand the current situation through Pakistan's ideology evoked in her nature-based works. Resonant with foliage , the sky or the ocean, the textured images belied their serious political theme. Which is perhaps what sets the work apart from other works of socio-political nature, that lose much of their aesthetic appeal as they fall into despair or angry railings.
The Jinnah cap morphs beguilingly into ocean-like waves or landscape opening into pearly hued clouds or the heaven, read whatever way one sees fit. The insertion of textures, fabric is subtle and effective, complementing the skilled rendering in fine layers of paint. Saneeya Ghadially's subtly nuanced miniatures hang silently beautiful, varying slightly in detailed minimalism. They allure with their silent poetry in stilled design and fine liner quality.
Seher Naveed's works are a deliberation on the lines and directions of maps, which like a 'security blanket remind us we are not lost .' Marium Ahmed comments on the 'growing sense of apathy' as we become desensitised to the violence and mishaps around us, wondering whether we have become insensitive to survive. The images of 'Suna hai aap lut gain' vary from small mono-coloured works in digital print to a large canvas in red and a kind of a digital ink drawing.
The loud defiance of the larger works is more subtly enunciated in the smaller almost monochromatic minimalistic work which seem to a have a stronger yet silent, linear appeal. Marium Agha's burqa series is striking in its enigmatic appeal and tactile quality. She uses fabric, threads and the loom, as well as calligraphy needled in to express the sense of veiled, lack of identity.
Of a non-entity as it were. But the recording accompanying one of the works reveals that behind the black void of incognition exists a person who would like to be acknowledged and recognised and perhaps appreciated. In the spatial quality of the whiteness, or blackness, of the images, interwoven by yarn and threads of lines, she has captured quite convincingly what a woman may feel behind the burqa.
As a whole, the exhibition reflects concerns, which an average Pakistan or Karachite would experience, or empathise with, the violence and our reaction, or lack of, the concept of the burqa and Talibisation, etc. Rather than depicting them in the usual black and white strains of negative and positive , right or wrong , us and them, perhaps what is refreshing is that the everyday concerns has caused the young artists to search within themselves for answers. And as refreshingly, the answers do reflect hope.