|
Unravelling
an enigma is like taking the fizz out of a carbonated drink - and
with a libertine like Tassadaq Sohail, the charm is entirely in
the mystery. The eccentric Sohail enjoys a strange sense of freedom
- liberated from the conventional cares of this world, he remains
a prisoner of his own imagination. The late Ali Imam classified
him as one of the few non-derivative painters Pakistan has produced.
Very original, but very peculiar, Sohail's work has always posed
questions to which there are seldom any easy answers. A complex
symbolist painter, Sohail freely admits that "in symbolism
you do not open the symbols - that is the fun of it." His recent
exhibition at Zenaini Art Gallery is a rich outpouring of coded
narrative that according to him speaks of "a world within a
world." This concept conforms to a late 19th century movement
called Symbolist painting. This was a movement that veered away
from painting by observation towards an expression of more subjective
intellectual or emotional visions. The symbolists rejected realist
conceptions of art that had prevailed in the preceding generation
dominated mainly by the Impressionists. They also took inspiration
from writers who had turned away from representation of the exterior
world towards the inner dream. Emphasis on feeling was through form
and colour as well as an unusual juxtaposition of subjects, depiction
of unreal allegorical worlds, or startling movements of reality
transfigured by extreme distortion. For them a plastic equivalent
of emotion or thought was through a corresponding beauty in time
and colour. Paul Gauguin is an early symbolist painter and Edvard
Munch's work is a culmination of symbolism and the beginning of
German Expression.
Tassadaq Sohail was originally a short story writer and he
identifies with the symbolist ethos on a much wider level. His personal
favourites, whom he has read widely, include symbolists like Nietzsche,
Andre Gide, Richard Wagner etc. It was only when writing in Urdu
became a limiting experience that he turned to the visual idiom
as another means of expression. In the early '60s when Sohail migrated
to London, it was not his Urdu writing but his unusual paintings
that helped him to get established. Today, what he describes as
"my pygmy people and my gnomes" is his celebrated signature.
They comprise the figurative imagery that populates his work along
with a menagerie of birds, cats, serpentine creatures, amphibians,
an errant white mule and queer landscapes. Sohail explains that
his gnomes are made of stone and they remain stationary. Repetition
of gnomic characters symbolises people who live in the past because
they are unhappy with the present. Seeking an ideal in an imagined
past, Sohail quotes Andre Gide to assert his point of view:
"Let
us have chimeras than realities - for the poet's imagination prefers
to dwell on the ideal. Let us have truth that is hidden behind the
appearance of things - so that we do not languish in inactive sleep.
Man must fill his soul with inspiration."
For
Sohail, this "inspiration" is transmitted onto the canvas
through a painterly process peculiarly his own. A gessoed canvas,
suitably sandpapered, is layered with an oil medium called liquine,
with the help of a palette knife. Different colours of his choice
are spread on this surface in an abstract mannerism, just barely
blended. He claims, "in this abstraction, I begin to see faces
here and there and a beginning is made. If my mind is ripe with
ideas, this opening is all I need to take off." With the help
of a palette knife, he scrapes out colour to form his images, unlike
the usual impasto technique of adding thick paint with a knife.
Another technique common to his work is frottage. In this method,
patterns are made from the surface of objects by rubbing them through
paper. The rough design is used to stimulate the imagination and
hints of form are worked up by drawing and other media.
Painting is a vital catharsis for the artist who declares,
"I make my best paintings when I am depressed - I take it all
out on the canvas - if I do not paint when I am depressed, then
I can throw myself out of the window - such is my state of mind
at that time." Sohail's drawn and painted expression is naïve
and primitive. He shows humankind or what he calls his little people
in a basic, primal existence where the animal instinct is predominant.
An overriding fascination for erotic fantasies, bordering on the
pornographic, is common to most paintings in his oeuvre. He also
disclosed that he had handed over about two thousand erotic drawings
to the Victoria and Albert Museum, London as it was not possible
to display them here. Sohail is frank enough to paint the gross
and the obscene with amazing fluency. Indeed he is not afraid to
hold the mirror to the world. But all this is at a cost. He has
lived a near solitary existence and now it is beginning to take
its toll. Loneliness is eating through his psyche as he laments,
"I haven't got anybody."
Tassaduq
Sohail was born in Jullundher, but migrated to Lahore in his early
teens with his family. In his twenties he headed westwards and settled
in London. From the sixties till his return in the late nineties,
Sohail grew in stature as a painter. With countless group participations
and over three dozen solo shows to his credit abroad as well as
annual exhibitions at Indus Gallery from 1977 onwards, Sohail churned
out collectible paintings. The current show at Zenaini is in the
same vein but the imagery is crowded and packed into windows and
cell-like grids - his world is multiplied many times over - giving
the viewer an image that is incessant and insistent. Perhaps it
is a cry from the heart for he says, "I am not happy, my life
has become hell since I arrived here. I haven't got anybody."
|