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Unchanged and New: The Islamic Calligraphy of Qaisar Iqbal

Posted by: – Nov 18, 2009

28 X 28 inches. Acrylic on wood panel, 2010
28 X 28 inches. Acrylic on wood panel, 2010

 

Earlier this year I sat down in the Ishq Gallery with Qaisar Iqbal to discuss his work, which was a unique combination of Islamic calligraphy and textile. His new pieces maintain the traditional mystical experience of his earlier work, but have evolved to demonstrate a comprehension of contemporary aesthetics, further deepening the visual dialogue between the ancient and modern. The calligraphy in these pieces is more intensely layered, suggesting multiple levels of interpretation, or a diversity of voices over vast stretches of time reciting the same phrases. It’s breathtaking stuff. Here are some of his new paintings, in addition to the interview from our first meeting.

"Al-Baqarah" 96 X 30 inches. Acrylic on wood panel, 2010
“Al-Baqarah” 96 X 30 inches. Acrylic on wood panel, 2010

 

Qaisar Iqbal did not sit down to talk about himself, or to ornament his artistic persona with the jazz music that was drifting through the Ishq gallery on the blue heels of a rainy Wednsday. He didn’t come to discuss the ubiquitous demonization of Arabs or Muslims, or how the consequent discrimination might have forced its hand upon the shaping of his personality. And like most mystics, he came not to share his world, but his visions.

One of the first things that strikes you about Iqbal’s work is its ability to suggest the soul of something ancient lasting through the erosions of time and cultural evolution. An American citizen of Pakistani origin, Iqbal’s early work was centered in sports illustration, particularly polo, the high jump, and racing. In college, he often studied at a museum near his campus. As a student, he was drawn to the 16th and 17th century Qur’ans, but it wasn’t simply the profoundly ornate inscriptions that inspired him.

“The thing that attracted me in those days, if you look at the old manuscripts of the Qur’an, whether it’s a page, or a complete book, it has an old or weathered effect. You can see the depths of the waters of stains, and the ink is gone away and faded, particularly I should mention that[ when the] Qur’ans were written, particularly in Iran and Syria, at that time the calligrapher was an artist as well. They would make a very big border all around each page, comprising of a thousand pages perhaps, each page would have ornamented details, a very fabulous Islamic pattern, and you can see that the colors are gone, but the evidence of gold is still there.”

36 X 24 inches. Acrylic on wood panel, 2010
36 X 24 inches. Acrylic on wood panel, 2010

It was during his experiences of these ancient texts that he began contemplating enlarging portions, and incorporating them into paintings.

“So instead of doing a small painting and trying to make a very elaborate border, I thought I should use textile. I was a textile designer also. But then I looked for particular textile that would go well with my compositions, not techno-prints, not very vibrant colors, but something that would comply with my over all color scheme and technique.

“To give it the antique or old look I have developed my own procedures, using very thin colors. You can see that there are many layers of color in one piece. And you can see where the ink has worn away, and this is the effect I tried to achieve in that.”

The poet Rumi asserted the capacity of music, poetry and dance to unite the individual with the divine, using art as physical practice in the experience of God. In the wide strokes and rapid diacritical marks that comprise the calligraphic foreground of Iqbal’s pieces, there is an echo of a dance. Arabic is one of the most preserved languages in the world, largely because of the Qur’an, before which it existed solely a spoken language. As such, the motions involved in writing out these passages are largely the same as those performed by the first transcribers of the holy text. I asked him how this ritualistic aspect affects the internal experience of his creative process.

“I did not puzzle the lettering of the text of the Qur’an, it’s still readable. If someone knows Arabic, he or she can read that.

“The mystical experience is definite. My own situation is when I apply myself to this particular art or theme, I play some mystical music, not jazz, but you know, I love all music. You can get meaning, whatever you want from each and every piece of music. But I will play old mystical Iranian or Arabic music in particular, and that uplifts you, and you have a feeling that you are really doing some spiritual work.”

 

You might expect some implication of dogmatic superiority in artwork based on religious scripture, some trace of evangelistic design shifting beneath the layers of textile and paint. But even the spiritually blind soapbox Christians on the corner down the street would be hard pressed to make any such accusation of Iqbal’s work.

“I will not say that through these paintings one should suppose that I am a Muslim and have [therefore] made these paintings for any particular sect, or particular group. No, the paintings can reflect a universal message. Paintings can bring the multitude of people closer, whether they are Christian, Hindu, this art is for everybody, and art can play a very catalystic role to bring societies together.

“So many church people, they said they were seeing something great. And I put all the English translations of the Arabic so people can read what it means. To a person who knows about painting, like an abstraction you don’t know exactly what someone has painted, but yet it gives you some connection, and you are connected with it, and can say ‘That’s something great you have made.’ Sometimes we are not in total understanding of the meanings of a particular piece, but they are of meaning and can be appreciated.”

While his pieces transcend the perceptual borders between the traditional and contemporary, they also diminish the distinctions between our various schools of belief. The result is something that makes no assertion as to rightness, or even really artistic merit, but instead inspires a sense of underlying interconnectedness. Iqbal’s work proves itself to be a manifestation of this, rather than an egoistic statement.

 

96 X 36 inches. Acrylic on wood panel, 2010
96 X 36 inches. Acrylic on wood panel, 2010

“I don’t want for people to connect me back, like “you are from Pakistan” like an alien or immigrant is doing something big, I just want to be a part of this community. I am American.

“I’m telling you, this is a great country to learn so many things. How much you can absorb yourself in this community, what you can see, how you can learn, I’m very much pleased.

“This is a bad time for Muslims. All over the world the grave label of terrorism is upon them, but besides that, let’s talk about color, let’s talk about songs, something fresh to breathe in, like oxygen. That’s the whole idea.”

And it’s the whole idea behind the Ishq gallery as well, Ishq meaning pure love, the love that connects the individual with the universal, the spirit with God. And though he has been dead since 1273, it is Rumi’s words that best describe the paintings hanging within it right now.

“Lover’s nationality is separate from all other religions,
The lover’s religion and nationality is the Beloved (God).
The lover’s cause is separate from all other causes
Love is the astrolabe of God’s mysteries”
-Rumi

The Ishq Gallery is located at 209 W. Broad St.
Richmond, VA 23220
For information on upcoming events visit www.ishqgallery.com

by S. Preston Duncan Images courtesy of the Ishq Gallery

http://rvamag.com/articles/full/5867/unchanged-and-new-islamic-calligraphy-qaisar-iqbal

 


 

Written on Cloth

A Muslim father and daughter spread tolerance through textile.

 art02_art_calligraphy_200.jpg

JetBlue and the Transportation Security Administration are just emerging from a media bombardment over a $240,000 settlement paid to an Iraqi-born U.S. citizen, who in 2006 was forced by the airline to cover a T-shirt with an Arabic inscription before boarding a flight. But in a new gallery on Broad Street, far from any airports, Arabic script lines the walls. It’s the attempt by a father and daughter to shed a tolerant light on their religion through the visual arts.

In early December, the new venue, ISHQ Gallery, held its first show, “Islamic Calligraphy: Based on Qur’anic Verses,” featuring ornate Arabic calligraphy on textile collage by Qaisar Iqbal. The show was so well received that Iqbal’s daughter, Mariam Eqbal, also the gallery director, decided to extend her father’s exhibition through Jan. 25. (An error by the U.S. State Department resulted in Iqbal’s children’s last names being changed to Eqbal, trivial to them considering the amount of paperwork required to correct the mistake.) The two say the exhibition is a work of love, which is fitting considering “ishq” is Arabic for the highest form of love, or love without lust.

“Art is for everybody, every religion,” he says.

Immigrating to the United States from Pakistan 10 years ago, Qaisar imported a lot of talent as well: his wife, who received her master’s degree in textile, and their offspring, who would become artists themselves. Among them was Mariam, who graduated from Virginia Commonwealth University’s Kinetic Imaging Department in 2007.

Now as ISHQ Gallery’s director, Mariam hopes the space, with the peaceful and sophisticated works of her father, can help bridge gaps in U.S. culture by showing the softer, often misunderstood side of Islam. Both father and daughter agree that artists have a tremendous responsibility in promoting social change.

“Hopefully we’ll come to a time [when everybody will be] perceived individually as opposed to where they belong or what affiliations they have,” Mariam says. “They’re always putting these boundaries on people through stereotypes.”

The exhibition comes at a tenuous time in Arab-U.S. relations, with both the recent settlement of the JetBlue case and a public apology from AirTran Holdings for booting nine Muslims from a flight on New Year’s Day.

“What I see happening now is that there are so many more activist groups now because of the war in Iraq. Ever since 9/11 people have just been turned on to international issues whereas before, no one even knew where Pakistan was,” Mariam says. “Take the bombing of Gaza for example, which is continuing: I think these international issues need to be awakened and in front of the public’s eye because most people are blind to information unless it is forced upon them somehow. Through art we can do that in a neutral sense without having to go to war or having some major catastrophe happen.”

Qaisar and Mariam contend there is no message in the art; merely that it transcends ethnic and social boundaries — a type of self-expression that should be appreciated in a country with such generous liberties and freedoms.

“Coming from a country such as Pakistan where self-expression is not always welcome or looked greatly upon, [my parents] took it upon themselves to escape that and still practice the arts,” Mariam says. “It’s unfortunate that these issues get highlighted by something so negative, but I think it’s about time people started venturing outside their own boxes they create for themselves.”

Mariam says that while the gallery is about art regardless of agenda, an occasional headline-grabbing global issue will guide the message of future exhibitions. “We want to promote different cultures, different religions, socio-political issues, cultural issues, artists from not just Richmond but hopefully all over the world.” S

Qaisar Iqbal’s work, “Islamic Calligraphy: Based on Qur’anic Verses,” at ISHQ Gallery, 209 W. Broad St., is on display through Jan. 25. 929-7018.

http://www.styleweekly.com/richmond/written-on-cloth/Content?oid=1377920