Artists in Pakistan have become so habituated to the frissons of violence as a thematic framework in their production, that if there were peace in the country they would be at a loss and may have to pack up their studios. Of course, this hyperbolic injustice is only to prove the prevalence of violence in art in Pakistan and disqualifies the imperative that art must reflect the zeitgeist and those artists cannot and must not remain untouched by the tumult that shakes their lives. But as much as violence shatters it titillates.

In the West, artists look for and even incite provocative narratives of violence. The Serbian-American performance artist Marina Abramovic invited viewers to injure her. The American artist Chris Burden asked to be nailed to the back of a car and driven around for a few minutes. In Pakistan we have no such pretensions. Fortunately, or rather unfortunately, there are many occasions to cry, to grieve, to rage, to express and to achieve some semblance of catharsis.

Untitled, Aisha Khalid

The world famous artist Aisha Khalid suspends lengthy carpets, tapestries and shawls with inordinately delicate patterns based on the grid of the charbagh or the four gardens representing the blueprint of paradise as described in the Quran. But dichotomously the embroidery is done not with silken threads but common pins that protrude threateningly at the reverse.

Adeela Suleman constructs massive chandeliers with a glorious steel mesh which, when closely observed, reveals a repetitive curtain of dead birds.

However, the young, dynamic miniature artist Muhammad Zeeshan is more overt, though metaphorical in his depiction of violence. The artist depicts torso-less heads of cows, goats and roosters alluding to killings of innocents.

We see then that death and destruction even when experienced closely by artists is articulated with sensitivity. What we have yet to see is the portrayal of the psychological and emotional fallout from violence, the long-term effect on societal behaviour that has already begun to be noticed.

Published in Dawn, Sunday Magazine, November 16th, 2014