In a candid conversation with Rahat Zahid, we explored the heart of a home that has been lovingly shaped over many years. Every room carries a memory, every corner holds a story, and every decision reflects the couple’s journey of building a space that feels truly and deeply theirs. From thoughtful renovations to cherished furniture pieces collected over time, this interview offers an intimate glimpse into a home created with love, intuition, and a deep appreciation for natural beauty.

What are the most precious memories that you hold closest to your heart?

As the saying goes, every child is precious, and for me, every corner of this home feels the same. We’ve built this house with so much love that no particular space feels more important than another. Our main family room upstairs is where we spend most of our time, so it naturally feels comforting, but truly, I can’t single out a favourite spot. Every part of this home carries a sense of peace and familiarity because we’ve worked so hard to create it.

If you ever had the opportunity to move to a different or better home, would you take it? Or is this space irreplaceable to you?

It is absolutely irreplaceable. Even compared to our home in America, this is the one I call home. We’ve watched it evolve over the years, just as our children have grown within its walls. They were married here; we’ve celebrated countless milestones. When we first bought it, we couldn’t afford much because the house was enormous. We renovated slowly, sometimes painfully slowly, bit by bit. I still remember living without a dining table for six months because the chairs we loved were out of budget. We waited nearly a year to buy them, without ever compromising on what we truly liked. Those small struggles, the decisions we made with patience and intention, and the way we hosted guests despite not having much—every memory is woven into this house. That’s why it can’t be replaced.

When you bought this house, did you have a fixed idea of what you wanted to do, or did you follow your intuition as you went along?

We did have a few priorities, mainly the kitchen, flooring, and bathrooms. We decided to set those first. After moving in, everything else happened gradually. Sometimes, while living in a space, you suddenly realise what needs to be changed or improved. So, we would tweak things over time—a door here, a wall there—always based on what we could afford. It was a very slow, very organic process, and I think that’s what made it meaningful.

Maintaining such a large and beautifully kept home is no small task. How do you manage it so effortlessly?

It’s definitely not effortless, far from it. I’ve created a system where I focus on one area at a time. For example, when the children visit, we’ll concentrate on one room a day: first the upstairs living room, then another room, then the downstairs, then the outdoor spaces. But like every household, things break, people hide the evidence, and I only discover it when I’m setting things later! I always tell everyone: just be honest, don’t hide it, because it’s easier to fix something immediately.

People often say you’re blessed with a green thumb. Would you say you’re one of those who have a green thumb?

Not at all, I wouldn’t claim that! My husband is the one with the real gardening instinct. I simply guide him on the overall look. We’ve always preferred natural beauty rather than overly shaped plants. A tree should look like a tree, with its natural form and growth. We love greenery more than anything overly decorative. Seasonal flowers are lovely, but we value permanent plants and natural growth. My husband is into perfumery, so he loves fragrant plants like raat ki rani and motiya, you can smell them as soon as you enter. We sit in the garden depending on the weather. On pleasant days, especially weekends, we spend a lot of time outdoors, watching the children play or simply enjoying the fresh air.

Is there any area that you feel is your biggest comfort zone or sanctuary?

My sanctuary is the back patio. It’s peaceful, quiet, and feels wonderfully removed from the noise of the house. The upstairs living area is another comforting space, our true family hub. When my daughters visit, they refuse to come downstairs; we eat, sit, relax, and practically live upstairs for days. It feels like our true family sanctuary.

Homes often carry stories. Is there a piece of furniture, artwork, or décor element in your house with a memory or mystery you cherish?

So many pieces carry stories. Most of our furniture wasn’t bought from high-end places; we collected it gradually, often discovering pieces unexpectedly and then refurbishing them. Each item reminds us of where we found it, what moment in life we were in, and what vision we had for it. I also love printing and framing photographs rather than keeping them hidden in a phone. When you walk around the house, you’ll see memories everywhere, our lives literally on the walls.

With your demanding roles as a designer and educator, does your home ever become your creative lab, somewhere ideas spark unexpectedly?

Absolutely. Creativity comes to me very instinctively. Whether I’m designing clothes or rearranging furniture, ideas often evolve while I’m working, rather than beforehand. Many times, a room ends up looking entirely different from what I originally imagined. Since I’m not formally trained in interiors, we’ve made our fair share of mistakes, but the process has always been experimental and enjoyable. My husband visualises things instantly, while I need to see them physically—so we balance each other out.

What advice would you give someone who wants to create a home that feels both beautiful and deeply personal?

Take your time. Don’t rush to fill your home all at once. Build it slowly and thoughtfully, even if you can’t afford professional help. A home should reflect you, not an interior designer. Collect pieces gradually, place them carefully, and live with them before adding more. Everything in your home should evoke a memory or feeling. Money can buy objects, but not the emotion attached to them. Ultimately, a home becomes beautiful through the love, patience, and personal meaning you weave into it—one piece, one memory at a time.

The post Ingrained With the Creativity of The Owners appeared first on Glam Magazine.

In our society, a divorced woman is often treated as an outcast. The prevailing belief is that the fault in a failed marriage lies mostly with the woman, and this perception subjects her to relentless societal scrutiny. Her personal life, prospects of remarriage, and even her daily routines are scrutinized under a harsh public gaze.

It is against this backdrop of societal pressure, personal loss, and heartbreak that drama “Muamma” begins its gripping narrative. Spanning 30 episodes, this series is directed by Saqlain Khan, written by Imran Nazir, and produced by Momina Duraid. The drama features a stellar cast, including Saba Qamar, Usman Mukhtar, Nimra Shahid, Syed Jibran and Maria Wasti, Muamma airs on HUM TV every Wednesday and Thursday at 8 PM, offering viewers a rich blend of suspense, emotional depth, and social commentary.

The story revolves around the enigmatic character of Jahan Ara. Surrounded by rumours and whispered speculations. The narrative is a kaleidoscope of human emotions, betrayal, survival, and redemption, providing viewers with an intense and immersive experience.

Jahan Ara is portrayed as an intelligent, shrewd, and cunning woman. Outwardly, she may appear innocent and empathetic, but beneath the surface lies a mind that strategizes with precision.

However, Jahan Ara’s life is far from easy. She navigates a world dominated by patriarchal norms and male authority, encountering challenges at every turn. Her father’s bias, her brother’s cruelty, and the betrayal of men around her have been recurring themes in her life. Her first marriage ends abruptly, with powerful feudal lord Sarmad orchestrating events to force her into a toxic union with him. This marriage becomes a nightmare filled with abuse, humiliation, and relentless cruelty. Yet, in these dark moments, Jahan Ara’s courage, patience, and intelligence begin to shine.

Through a twist of fate, Jahan Ara eventually exacts justice on Sarmad for his misdeeds. Seven years later, she returns as a strong, influential, and fearless woman, determined to confront life on her own terms. Her mission becomes exposing the betrayals and deceit of men and overcoming any obstacles that come her way. She is now the proud owner of a beautiful house, which she rents exclusively to newlywed couples. But beneath the surface, she quietly observes their relationships, looking for cracks and tensions a subtle yet powerful metaphor for her quest for justice and understanding human frailties.

Life, however, presents yet another challenge in the form of Shah Jahan, one of her tenants. The dynamics between Jahan Ara and Shah Jahan form a pivotal part of the drama. Their relationship, evolving amid tension, attraction, and mutual discovery, has the potential to transform Jahan Ara’s life in ways even she cannot predict. Each episode reveals new layers of intrigue, suspense, and emotional intensity, keeping viewers on the edge of their seats.

Muamma is not just a story of entertainment; it is a social commentary that fearlessly portrays the realities of a divorced woman in a conservative society.

Saba Qamar delivers a powerhouse performance as Jahan Ara. Her portrayal captures a spectrum of emotions from vulnerability and grief to courage and determination. Her ability to convey the subtleties of pain, intelligence, and moral strength has won the hearts of audiences within the first few episodes. Usman Mukhtar, Nimra Shahid, and the supporting cast contribute significantly to the drama, ensuring that every character is vividly realized and essential to the storyline.

Saba Qamar’s return to HUM TV after a long hiatus has been highly anticipated. She has previously delivered exceptional performances in acclaimed dramas such as Bunty I Love You, Maat, Dastaan, and Besharam, leaving an indelible mark on every role. In Muamma, she brings maturity, depth, and nuance, making Jahan Ara a character that viewers both admire and empathize with. Her presence ensures that the drama is not merely watched but experienced.

Beyond entertainment, Muamma carries a profound social message. It teaches that a woman who stands firm for her rights and confronts societal pressures can emerge victorious despite adversity.

Muamma is poised to become a classic, remembered not just for its gripping storyline but also for its social relevance and strong performances. It stands as a testament to HUM TV’s commitment to selecting compelling themes, producing high-quality content, and contributing to societal awareness. The drama is a vivid portrayal of courage, resilience, and justice, and it resonates across generations.

By presenting a woman’s struggle with honesty, sensitivity, and drama, HUM TV has set a benchmark for quality storytelling. Muamma is a triumph of narrative, performance, and social commentary a drama that will not only entertain but also educate, inspire, and provoke thought.

The post An Epic Tale of a Woman’s Struggle, Revenge, and Enduring Hope – Muamma appeared first on Glam Magazine.

“Art will always find a way to break through and create something new”

Ozlem Ozhabes – theatre director, performer, and lecturer on theatre’s power to challenge society and inspire change.

1. How did your visit to Pakistan come about? Also give us some insight into your play.

I live in Abu Dhabi, and recently, one of the World Culture Festival organizers and the technical team members named Azaib invited artists to participate. He personally approached Bill Bragin, the curator and director of the NYU Abu Dhabi Art Centre, who then recommended my play. Azaib contacted me and extended an invitation to participate.

The play is called Subj:medeA and it tells the story of a goddess who is betrayed by her husband. In her act of revenge, she kills all her children. As a mother myself, I am deeply interested in how society places immense expectations on women—how they are supposed to be and behave, and how they often become trapped in their homes without much support. Having become a mother myself, I’ve experienced these pressures first-hand. This inspired me to create a show about a mother who takes the most extreme, tragic action – she commits the worst possible act. I wrote the play myself, with some assistance.

• How did your journey into theatre and acting begin?

My story isn’t a typical one. I’ve always been shy and introverted. As a child, I didn’t like much attention. In high school, I was planning to study political science, and also became part of a youth group. We spent a lot of time in rehearsals, and I think what drew me into theatre was the collective aspect; the idea of creating something together, working on a piece not just for ourselves but for the sake of art. The trust and transparency required to connect with twenty people at once felt like magic to me. That collaborative nature is what kept me in love with theatre.

I then studied dramaturgy and became part of a theatre company, assisting with directing, working with lights, cleaning stages – you name it. The collective spirit of theatre is what continues to inspire me.

• Why in particular did you study feminist dramaturgy?

I didn’t feel the need to call myself a feminist until I became a mother even though I consistently defended women’s rights. So, the question for me was: what’s wrong with calling myself a feminist? If you look at theatre history, it’s full of male names—male characters, male perspectives, male-dominated viewpoints and behaviours. Unless you explicitly call it feminist, you’re not making a statement. Would I simply call it feminist? No. What I hope for is a world without discrimination, where everyone is free, and where everyone including professors, understand their boundaries. On the stage, we often need to raise consciousness. I wish feminism was irrelevant, and my play didn’t exist but, in my performance, here, I had audiences from Algeria, Pakistan, Mozambique, Turkey, Azerbaijan, Ukraine and other countries, and I realised how much these themes resonated across different cultures. It’s so relevant that I feel I have to explicitly call myself a feminist.

• You have been involved in diverse projects across different countries including Florence, London and Turkey, and now in Abu Dhabi. How have these experiences shaped your storytelling methods?

In Florence, I mainly taught, and I found that Italian actors are very happy and expressive. In Turkey and the broader Middle East, restrictions on what stories can be told and what can be openly discussed influence the form of storytelling. Stories and subtleties often become less important, and bigger concepts take precedence. In London, the environment is driven by capitalism, technology, and a fast-paced culture and you have to learn the rules quickly, know your place, and understand which plays or roles are accessible.

Though my heart still beats in Turkey, I find places like Abu Dhabi or Pakistan, where I’ve only been for a short time, share a similar curiosity. I see in the students’ eyes the same questions I had at their age.

• You’ve directed a wide range of plays, from classics like Romeo and Juliet and A Midsummer Night’s Dream to contemporary works. How did that come about?

These aspects are a key part of my teaching practice because theatre of Turkey has historically been heavily reliant on translated texts and classics. Therefore, students need to engage deeply with these texts and learn how to position themselves within them. Moreover, these texts are considered “classics” for a reason—they resonate universally. They offer students an opportunity to view them as exemplary works from the West, and within them, students recognise elements of their own histories, families, and peers. Once students begin to see their own histories reflected in these texts, the works start to truly resonate on a deeper level, transforming them from distant classics into meaningful reflections of their own lives.

• Photo Credit: Anna Jopp
• You started Datça Theatre Summer Camp and have been the director of ACT, a project focused on artistic freedom. What inspired you to start them?

I am someone deeply obsessed with systems, yet I also believe that systems are inherently destined to fail. Despite their inevitable shortcomings, systems can produce something meaningful and inspiring over time. Hence Datça, a two-to-three-week camp, was my attempt to bring together various acting techniques into a cohesive approach. Later, I linked this to a core principle: it’s all about the artist – finding vulnerability, embracing fragility and discovering freedom. We engaged in intensive training, working with nature, classical texts, and monologues through clown work and Linklater method. It was about discovering creativity through extremities and pushing boundaries. ACT, a youth theatre, is particularly significant because it touches on the culture of theatre in the country. Instead of simply teaching young people what to do, we empowered them to create—giving them agency. The initiative aims to train youth as future change-makers and trainers, bringing together participants from three cities: Diyarbakır, İzmir, and Istanbul. Politically, it was especially meaningful to gather young people from different regions and backgrounds to hear their childhood stories and building connections.  

• According to what you’ve observed so far, what are some of the strengths and weaknesses of theatre in Pakistan?

I haven’t seen a lot of Pakistani work, but what I have seen is very powerful. It reminds me of my students in Turkey. However, I’ve noticed that most of the directors’ names are male. As a feminist, I believe that to truly strengthen any artistic field, it’s essential to hear women’s voices and perspectives.

• What are some of the skills that you consider are essential for an actor?

Reading texts, understanding what you read, and delivering it effectively from your positionality – these are essentials. Take Hamlet for example, he is a 17-year-old boy struggling to make sense of the world, and then he loses his father. The image of that father, and the uncertainty surrounding it, deeply influences him. To portray Hamlet convincingly, you need to grasp his dilemma and interpret his lines with empathy. Delivering the text isn’t just technical; it’s about knowing where your centre is.

• Considering how rapidly technology is transforming entertainment and communication, how do you envision the future of theatre and performing arts? Do you think theatre risks becoming obsolete – especially among younger generations?

I am quite skeptical about technology, yet I try to remain hopeful. The most progressive shows I’ve seen in recent years come from very young artists in Belgium, Amsterdam, Tunisia, and Iran—where they have created immersive experiences that are quite wild. For instance, audiences might be blindfolded and have to touch objects or engage in sensual experiences, lying down while performers approach them and communicate. You see, as human beings, the more we distance ourselves from direct contact, the more our need for connection persists.

Yes, just like the industrial revolution, this technological revolution is also frightening as this is leading to a dangerous disconnect. Today, we see children suffering and dying, yet we seem indifferent, only witnessing it through screens. If humanity isn’t strong enough to unite around these issues, then theatre becomes just a trivial addition.

But I recently saw a show in Avignon by a Portuguese director: a father and daughter, presented in a very theatrical way in its classical sense. The daughter moves to Mars without telling her father, and they exchange voice messages. It is theatre in its simplest form – two people communicating through voicemails. But it had a huge impact on everyone in the audience. That kind of work gives me hope that even if it’s not theatre, it will be something else because every era creates its own art form. Art will always find a way to break through and create something new.

The post Theatre Beyond Borders appeared first on Glam Magazine.

Growing up during a politically turbulent time had a profound influence on Farrukh Shahab. His family’s migration and resettlement exposed him early on to instability and change. He first lived in Rawalpindi and later moved to Karachi, during the late 1970s — a period marked by political unrest, student movements and social upheaval. Witnessing protests, the banning of student unions, and the tension that gripped the streets gave him a firsthand understanding of how politics shapes everyday life. Those experiences made him street-smart and observant, nurturing in a curiosity about the world and the human condition. In 1984, Shahab apprenticed under Iqbal Mehdi, a respected artist who was also surrounded by writers, poets, and political. Their discussions on art, literature, and ideology opened his mind to the power of creative expression as a form of reflection and resistance and helped him realize that art was not just about technique or aesthetics. His early works carried traces of that realism and social consciousness. The struggles, conversations, and observations from that era have continued to shape his worldview and remain deeply embedded in his artistic language today.

Your artistic journey began with portraiture, earning you awards as early as the 1990s. How do you view that early phase of your career in relation to your current work?

My early years were deeply rooted in portraiture, which became the foundation of my artistic journey. During university, a turning point came when my work was featured in the Sindh Art Exhibition in 1986, noticed by art critic Amjad Ali, who mentioned me in a leading newspaper, Dawn. That early recognition gave me the confidence to take art seriously and pursue it as a profession. Working as an apprentice to Iqbal Mehdi was a major influence. His studio was a training ground. We worked on commissioned portraits and large murals, sometimes twenty feet wide, for prominent figures and institutions. That experience taught me not only technique and discipline but also respect for craftsmanship and realism. I became very familiar with the medium; colour, form, texture and understood how to translate life onto canvas. Over time, however, I felt the need to move beyond replication. While realism gave me a strong foundation, I wanted to explore my own voice and direction. Breaking away from that comfort zone was essential to evolving as an artist. The early phase gave me precision and structure, but my current work draws more from emotion, memory, and experimentation – a dialogue between what I learned then and what I continue to discover now.

You’ve explored diverse styles — from figurative portraiture to abstraction, mixed media, and photography. How do you decide when to shift or experiment with a new style?

My shift toward experimentation began during my first trip abroad in 1992, when I accompanied Iqbal Mehdi for his exhibition at the Pakistan Mission to the United Nations in New York. That experience opened a new world for me. We also visited galleries across SoHo and other parts of the city, where I encountered a wide range of contemporary and abstract art. Coming from a background of strict realism, it was eye-opening to see how freely artists expressed ideas without the constraints of form or likeness. I even began taking small commissions there — portraits, mostly — but observing that diversity of styles planted a seed of curiosity. Gradually, I started exploring symbolic and nonrealistic forms in my own work. It wasn’t a sudden shift, but a natural evolution. Exposure to international art spaces — first in New York and later in Paris — expanded my perspective and made me realize that experimentation is essential for growth. It’s about responding to what I’m feeling at a certain point in time — sometimes it’s realism, sometimes abstraction, or even photography.

In Valley of the Quest, you integrate lapis dust, teakwood, and layered materials. What inspires your experimentation with unconventional mediums?

The idea of experimenting with unconventional materials began around the year 2000, shortly after I got married. My wife worked with an airline, and during our travels and stays abroad — particularly in London — I often found myself surrounded by everyday objects rather than traditional art supplies. I started using what was available: letters, cardboard, bits of paint, even discarded materials. That period became a quiet laboratory for exploration, though at the time I didn’t take it very seriously. Years later, while preparing for Valley of the Quest, my curator, Mohammad Ishaq, encouraged me to revisit that experimental approach. Once I began, it came naturally — the process flowed, and the material itself started to guide the form. I used lapis dust, teakwood, and layered surfaces to create depth and symbolism, drawing inspiration from The Conference of the Birds by Farid Uddin Attar. The text’s metaphors about the soul’s journey resonated deeply with me and became the conceptual backbone of the series. Each piece in Valley of the Quest reflects that spiritual search — birds as metaphors for human emotions, flight as transcendence, and materials as memory. The use of natural, tactile mediums connects the work to both earth and spirit.

How do you balance your personal need for artistic evolution with the art market’s expectation of a “signature style”?

I’ve never allowed the art market to dictate the direction of my work. When an artist starts creating with the market in mind, they risk becoming confined — producing what is expected rather than what is felt. That mindset slowly erodes individuality, originality and the natural evolution of creativity. What many forget is that the very work that first drew the market’s attention was born from pure, personal expression — not commercial calculation. Yet once an artist begins to sell, external influences can creep in. Galleries may suggest changes — colour adjustments, recurring themes, or familiar compositions — and before long, the artist is boxed into a “signature style” that serves the market more than their own vision. I’ve consciously resisted that. Growth, for me, lies in experimentation and change. Each phase of my work reflects a new internal journey, not a repetition of what has already been accepted.

You’ve spoken about the canvas as a space where art “takes on a life of its own.” Could you elaborate on what that loss of control means for you as an artist?

For me, painting is never a premeditated act. I don’t approach the canvas with a fixed plan or a detailed vision. The moment you try to control every aspect of a painting, it resists — it begins to transform into something else entirely. My process is intuitive: I start with a loose idea, then build, erase, add, and alter as the work unfolds. The composition, the colour palette, even the emotion evolve naturally as I paint. There are moments when the hand seems to move on its own, guided by something beyond conscious thought. That’s the point where the canvas takes on a life of its own. Sometimes the result isn’t what I imagined; sometimes it surpasses my expectations entirely. But that unpredictability is the essence of creation.

Many of your works embody both personal emotion and collective human experience. Do you consciously navigate between them?

I believe if you try to create art consciously with the intent of balancing the personal and the universal, it becomes more of an illustration than an expression. For me, the process is organic. Whatever you experience — whether from life, relationships, or even from what you see in galleries and around you — quietly settles in your subconscious. Those impressions stay there, sometimes for years, until they resurface in unexpected ways.

When I paint, it’s rarely a direct translation of an experience or emotion. The connection is deeper and often difficult to trace. It’s as if the body’s own chemistry and the mind’s stored memories come together on the canvas. Art, to me, is a mirror of the subconscious — it reflects fragments of who we are, often without our realizing it. Whether one is a painter, writer, or poet, the act of creation always carries something instinctive and internal, shaped by everything we’ve lived and everything we’ve forgotten.

You’ve played an active role as Chairman of the Fine Arts Committee at the Arts Council of Pakistan. How do you view the responsibility of artists in shaping the country’s contemporary art scene?

It’s been about six years since I joined the Arts Council of Pakistan as a governing member, and the experience has been both unexpected and deeply rewarding. Initially, I never saw myself as a teacher or administrator — I’m a reserved person by nature — but over time, I discovered that guiding young artists can be just as fulfilling as creating art itself. My approach has never been to impose ideas or styles on students. Instead, I encourage them to find their own voice — to develop a personal language of expression. Reviewing their theses, discussing concepts, and watching them evolve into confident artists has been one of the most gratifying parts of this journey. Many of our alumni have gone on to build successful careers, which affirms the importance of giving emerging artists the space to explore and grow. Serving as Chairman of the Fine Arts Committee has also pushed me out of my comfort zone. Organizing exhibitions, workshops, and programs has shown me how collective effort shapes the art community.

What gaps do you think still exist in Pakistan’s art education and curatorial practices, and how are you contributing to bridging them?
Unfortunately, we’re witnessing a gradual decline in both the conventional gallery culture and the strength of art institutions in Pakistan. This has created a visible gap — not just in opportunities for young artists to exhibit their work, but also in the quality of curatorial engagement and mentorship available to them. Our focus has been to bridge that gap by creating more accessible platforms for emerging talent. We want young artists to feel encouraged rather than disheartened by the lack of formal infrastructure. Whether it’s through exhibitions, workshops, or performance-based art programmes, we’re trying to provide them with the space, visibility, and confidence to grow. People are often hesitant to embrace new ideas or formats, but this effort of involving students and fostering inclusivity is slowly gaining momentum. I see it as an ongoing mission: to keep the art ecosystem in Pakistan alive, evolving and open to the next generation of voices.

Winning the Nigaah Art Award for Abstract Art in 2024 affirmed your experimental work. How do such recognitions influence your artistic confidence or direction?

Recognition has always carried great value for me. I still remember the feeling of seeing my first painting printed in Dawn in 1986 — at that time, it felt monumental. Moments like those remind you that what you’re creating is being seen and appreciated, and that validation can be incredibly motivating. Winning the Nigaah Art Award for Abstract Art in 2024 was a similar moment of affirmation. It reinforced my belief in continuing to experiment and evolve. For any artist whether emerging or established, appreciation, acknowledgment, and even the simplest forms of recognition matter deeply. They renew your confidence, keep the creative spirit alive, and encourage you to push your boundaries further.

When future generations look back at your career, what do you hope they recognize as your defining contribution to Pakistani art?

People often say that an artist’s career is unpredictable, that it’s difficult to sustain oneself through art alone — but I’ve spent my entire life doing just that. It hasn’t always been easy, but it’s been deeply fulfilling. Once your work is out in the world, you have to be ready to face all kinds of responses — appreciation, criticism, or even indifference. That openness is part of being an artist. If future generations look back at my career, I hope they recognize it as one defined by persistence and courage — the courage to evolve, to take risks, and to experiment without fear of rejection.

You’ve seen the Pakistani art scene transform over three decades. What excites you most about the new generation of artists?
What excites me most is their openness — their willingness to experiment, to question, and to redefine what art can be. Over the years, I’ve witnessed remarkable growth in opportunities for young artists, compared to the past, from the rise of new galleries to the digital platforms that allow them to share their work instantly with the world. This generation is far more exposed and connected than we were. Their inspirations come from everywhere — from local traditions to global movements — and that diversity shows in their work. They are bold, unafraid to take risks, and eager to explore concepts that challenge conventions. It’s heartening to see Pakistani artists making their mark internationally, representing our culture and creativity with such confidence. Today, art and artists are no longer confined to one space or mindset.

If you could describe your art in three words — the words you’d want on a gallery wall decades from now — what would they be?

They would be dedication, evolution, and daring. Dedication — because art has been a lifelong commitment for me; Evolution — because I’ve never wanted to remain stagnant; every canvas is a step forward. And Daring — because experimentation and risk have always been at the heart of my creative process.

The post Exploring the Art of Experimentation – Farrukh Shahab appeared first on Glam Magazine.

1. Your early works often incorporated everyday domestic objects, transforming them into sculptures that comment on societal norms. How has your artistic practice evolved over the years, and what influences have driven this transformation?

My artistic practice has evolved significantly over the years. Initially, my work focused on transforming everyday domestic objects into sculptures, which allowed me to explore and comment on societal norms, especially related to gender roles and the domestic sphere. These objects served as a metaphor for the hidden narratives and constraints within our society.

As I’ve grown as an artist, my focus has shifted to more complex themes such as violence, politics and cultural identity, often reflecting on the socio-political landscape of South Asia. Influences for this transformation come from my personal experiences and observations of the world around me. My interest in history and the intricacies of cultural narratives also play a vital role in my evolving practice.

I’ve also been deeply inspired by traditional craftsmanship techniques, particularly metal repousse work, Vespa painting, embroidery and wood carvings which have become integral to my artistic language. This allows me to bridge the gap between traditional and contemporary art forms, offering viewers a way to engage with both the past and the present.

My exposure to diverse international art scenes and collaborations has enriched my perspective, enabling me to address universal issues while maintaining a strong connection to my roots.

•  Your work frequently juxtaposes themes of violence with aesthetically beautiful forms. What draws you to explore this paradox, and what message do you aim to convey through this interplay?

Exploring the paradox of violence juxtaposed with aesthetically beautiful forms has been a central theme in my work. I have always been drawn to this interplay because it mirrors the complexities of human experience and the contradictions within society. Beauty often acts as a veil that hides the underlying harsh realities, and through my art, I aim to uncover these layers.

By presenting violence in visually beautiful forms, I hope to engage the viewer in a dialogue that challenges their perceptions and provokes introspection. This juxtaposition is intended to create a tension that compels the viewer to look deeper, to question, and to acknowledge the unsettling truths that often pass unnoticed beneath the surface of beauty.

•  As a female artist in Pakistan, how do you perceive the role of women in the contemporary art scene, and how has your work addressed or challenged societal perceptions of gender roles?

As a female artist in Pakistan, the contemporary art scene are both challenging and transformative. While there has been progress in recent years, women in the arts still face significant barriers and societal expectations that can limit their visibility and opportunities. However, I believe that female artists are increasingly finding their voice and asserting their presence in the cultural landscape, paving the way for future generations.

My work directly addresses and challenges societal perceptions of gender roles by exploring themes of femininity, identity, and power dynamics. Through my art, I endeavour to dismantle stereotypes and confront the traditional narratives that often confine women to specific roles within society. By utilizing familiar domestic objects and transforming them into powerful sculptures, I aim to highlight the complexities of women’s experiences—both their struggles and their strengths.

•  Being based in Karachi, a city with a complex socio-political landscape, how has the environment influenced your art, particularly in addressing themes of conflict and resilience?

Karachi is a city with such a rich yet complex socio-political landscape, which has profoundly influenced my art. Karachi city is my source of ultimate inspiration! The environment here is one of stark contrasts—beautiful yet troubled, vibrant yet conflicted. This duality informs my practice and drives me to address themes of conflict and resilience in my work.

Karachi has witnessed significant social and political turmoil, which shapes the daily lives of its residents. Living and working in such an environment has instilled in me a deep awareness of the issues surrounding violence, displacement and identity. These experiences fuel my desire to reflect on the interconnectedness of these themes through my art.

In my pieces, I often draw on local narratives, using materials and forms that resonate with the cultural context around me. I strive to capture not only the struggles faced by individuals but also their resilience and ability to adapt in the face of adversity. My work aims to tell stories of strength and survival while acknowledging the pain and challenges that accompany them.

• As a founding member and director of the Vasl Artists’ Association, how do you see the role of such platforms in fostering artistic dialogue and cultural exchange, both locally and internationally?

Associated with Vasl since 2002, I see our platform as crucial in fostering artistic dialogue and cultural exchange on both local and international levels. Vasl serves as a space for artists to connect, collaborate and share their diverse perspectives, creating a vibrant community that nurtures creativity and innovation.

The role of platforms like Vasl is vital, especially in a region where access to artistic resources and opportunities can often be limited. By organizing workshops, exhibitions, and residencies, we not only provide artists with exposure to new ideas and techniques but also facilitate meaningful conversations that challenge and expand their practices. This exchange of ideas helps us collectively navigate the complexities of our cultural identities and societal issues.

On an international scale, Vasl acts as a bridge, allowing local artists to engage with global narratives while also introducing international artists and audiences to the rich tapestry of Pakistani art and culture. This cross-cultural dialogue enriches both sides, fostering understanding and collaboration that transcends geographical boundaries.

•  Your installation “Killing Fields of Karachi” during the Karachi Biennale 2019 sparked significant discourse. Can you share your experience surrounding this work and its aftermath?

The ‘Killing Fields of Karachi’ was a deeply personal and poignant exploration of violence and its impact on our urban landscape. The work aimed to create a visceral experience, prompting viewers to confront the harsh realities of loss and trauma that permeate life in Karachi. I tried to explore the ecology of violence – how it effects mind and soul and how the memory of violence is embedded in the land where the heinous crime was committed.

The process of creating this installation was both challenging and cathartic. I sought to reflect the collective pain and resilience of a city marked by conflict, using materials and imagery that resonated with the local context. The response to the piece was overwhelming, sparking significant discourse around themes of violence, memory, and loss and the role of institutions.

In the aftermath of the installation, I found that it opened up important conversations among viewers about the normalization of violence in our society and the ways in which art can facilitate dialogue and reflection. I learnt two things, Firstly, the power art has in a country like Pakistan, that in two hours of the public opening, “they” had to break each and every pillar and eventually on third day break it with hammers and had to remove it. Secondly, how weak our art institutions and organizations are in a country like Pakistan that the biennale team had to throw me under the bus to save their necks. 

•  What guidance would you offer to young artists who are navigating their paths in the contemporary art world, especially those addressing socio-political themes?

My advice to young artists particularly those addressing socio-political themes, would be to stay true to your voice and experiences. Authenticity is vital—your unique perspective is what will resonate most with others. Don’t shy away from expressing your truths, however uncomfortable they may be.

Engage deeply with your context. Understanding the socio-political landscape around you—the stories, struggles, and hopes of your community—will enrich your work and make it more impactful. Use your art as a tool for dialogue and to provoke thought. Art has the power to challenge norms and inspire change.

Don’t be afraid to experiment with different mediums and forms. The contemporary art world is diverse, and innovation often arises from merging traditional practices with modern techniques. Embrace failure as part of the process; it can lead to unexpected discoveries and growth.

Lastly, cultivate resilience. The art world can be challenging and sometimes discouraging, but perseverance is essential. Continue to learn, adapt, and stay passionate about your practice. Your voice matters, and as you share your story through your art, you may inspire others to do the same.

The post Provoking Thought Through Art appeared first on Glam Magazine.

The Karachi Biennale, Pakistan’s largest contemporary art platform, returned this year with its fourth edition, transforming Karachi into a hub of artistic dialogue and engagement. The Karachi Biennale Trust has been instrumental in revitalizing public art spaces across the city, creating an expansive platform that unites artists from across Pakistan and the world.

Since its inception, Karachi Biennale has grown remarkably, holding three successful events from 2017 to 2024, each one further reinforcing Karachi’s position on the international art stage. Supported by local and global art communities, the corporate sector, and various cultural and educational institutions, Karachi Biennale brings contemporary art into the public sphere, inviting audiences to experience immersive installations and thought-provoking art.

The theme of KB24, “Rizq | Risk”, delved into the complex intersections of food security, environmental sustainability, social justice, and cultural heritage. Curated by Waheeda Baloch, the theme aimed to spark critical conversations around how global food systems are affected by colonialism, globalization and climate change, and how these impacts ripple across local communities and traditional practices.

Waheeda Baloch, deeply affected by her work with communities displaced by the 2022 floods, shared her vision for this edition, describing how art can be a medium for highlighting forgotten narratives and championing indigenous practices.

The Biennale’s inauguration took place at the historic Bandstand in Bagh Ibn-e-Qasim, its century-old structure illuminated to showcase its architectural beauty and legacy. This simple yet enchanting ceremony was attended by distinguished guests, including Mayor Murtaza Wahab,

who spoke of his commitment to revitalizing heritage sites like Frere Hall and the Bandstand with cultural events for Karachi’s citizens.

Murtaza Wahab being escorted by Niilofur Farrukh and Almas Bana

Managing Trustee of the Karachi Biennale Trust, Niilofur Farrukh, emphasized the Biennale’s mission to make contemporary art accessible by integrating it within heritage spaces, allowing the public to engage with these environments and form collective memories. At the opening, the KB24 Juried Art Prize was awarded to Nadeem Al Karimi and Maham Nadeem, a duo from Hunza, for their impactful work “The Last Act” and “Dismantling Life”, which poignantly addresses the loss of natural habitats in Hunza due to urbanization. Their installation, situated at Bagh Ibn-e-Qasim, uses discarded food wrappers to highlight the environmental effects of tourism and urban development.

The artists duo, Nadeem AlKarimi and Maham Nadeem received the Juried Art Prize

The KB24 EBM Emerging Artist Prize was awarded to Anusha Khwaja from Lahore, whose work emphasizes the vital link between women and food production, honoring women as both growers and nurturers.

KB24 brought together 40 artists from 10 countries, who explored the theme “Rizq | Risk” through installations, performances, videos, and paintings at multiple venues, including Bagh Ibn-e-Qasim, Alliance Française, Frere Hall, NED University, and Sambara Art Gallery. From interactive installations to thought-provoking video art, the works reflected on the impacts of recent floods and heatwaves on Pakistan’s food security. Artists raised questions about colonial and neoliberal policies that prioritize profit over ecological balance and presented indigenous knowledge as a pathway to healing the environment.

A particularly moving part of the Biennale was the exhibit “Artists of Gaza live in our hearts”, a collection of tapestries created by art students across universities in Pakistan, installed at Bagh Ibn-e-Qasim. This tribute honoured the resilience of Gaza’s artists and highlighted the universal role of art in capturing and preserving the human spirit.

In addition to the art exhibits, KB24 featured an extensive public programme with artist talks, keynote discussions, workshops, and guided tours. At the reading room in Bagh Ibn-e-Qasim, visitors could gather and immerse themselves in books and literature connected to the Biennale’s themes, enriching their experience of the art.

Reading Room at Bagh ibn-e-Qasim.

Among the standout installations and performances at KB24, several artworks left an indelible mark with their powerful messages and intricate artistic approaches.

Sadqain (Pakistan) presented “Water Spill and Nala” at NED University, using concrete, plaster, and pigments to evoke the relationship between water and pollution. This Lahore-based artist invited the audience to consider how water holds memories and traces of land, symbolizing both purity and contamination. With dye dispersing over slabs, his work showed how pollution often remains unseen yet ever-present.

Sadeqain’s artwork displayed at NED University (city campus)

Christer Lundahl and Martina Seitl (Sweden) showcased “River Biographies / That Which Is Not You but of Which You are a Part”, a sensory performance that blurred boundaries between human and natural elements. Visitors wearing sightless goggles were led by others, immersing themselves in the experience of being like water or stone. This interaction emphasized trust, interdependence, and the fluid connection between people and the natural world.

Public interaction with Lundahl and Seitl’s performance.

Salim Bayri and Ghita Skali (Morocco/Netherlands) contributed the “Sunflower Seed Project”, a participatory piece encouraging visitors to consume sunflower seeds while reflecting on food security and monoculture.

Salim Bayri and Ghita Skali’s installation at Sambara Art Gallery.

Bita Razavi (Finland/Iran) displayed “Bita’s Dowry” , a series of photographs and audio recordings depicting objects collected by her grandmother during the Iran-Iraq war. This project explored the themes of generational memory, marriage, and social expectations surrounding dowries. Her work resonated deeply in Karachi, touching on the universal experience of women as custodians of familial heritage.

Bita Razavi’s artwork at Bagh ibn-e-Qasim.

Naiza Khan (United Kingdom/Pakistan) exhibited at Frere Hall, displaying paintings such as “The Streets are Rising” and “Kurrachee, Past, Present, and Future”. These pieces mapped Karachi’s complex landscapes, illustrating the impact of colonialism and climate on the city’s fragile infrastructure. Naiza’s works explore the intersection of land, borders, and environmental degradation, highlighting ongoing challenges in urban planning and pollution.

Naiza Khan’s paintings at Frere Hall.

Finally, Sepideh Rahaa (Finland/Iran) shared her video installation “Songs to Earth, Songs to Seed”, documenting the rice cultivation process in Mazandaran, Northern Iran. The 20-minute piece wove local songs sung by women during harvest, emphasizing intergenerational knowledge and the environmental challenges faced by Iranian farmers under economic sanctions.

Sepideh Rahaa’s artwork and video at Alliance Française.

Each of these installations and performances at KB24 embodied the theme of Rizq/Risk, offering a rich perspective on pressing issues in food security, environmental justice, and cultural preservation. These artworks engaged viewers in thoughtful, hands-on ways, fostering an intimate connection with the Biennale’s themes.

Nadeem Ali Karimi’s installation.

The Fourth Karachi Biennale closed with a vibrant ceremony at the historic City Council Hall in the Jamshed Nusserwanjee Building, spotlighting this landmark’s rich heritage. With prominent citizens, artists, and institutional heads in attendance, the closing event celebrated KB24’s public engagement and diverse artistic contributions.

Niilofur Farrukh, the Managing Trustee of the Karachi Biennale Trust, commended Karachi’s enthusiastic response, especially from youth, to the 40 participating artists from across Pakistan and around the world. She also advocated for establishing a Karachi Contemporary Art Museum in one of the city’s heritage sites to honor the city’s creative vibrancy and growing global art reputation.

Curator Waheeda Baloch shared insights on curating this edition, and awards were presented to outstanding contributors. Swedish artist duo Christer Lundahl and Martina Seitl won the KB24 Performance Art Prize for their immersive installation, “River Biographies”, while “Artists of Gaza Live in Our Heart”, a collaborative project by Textile Institute of Pakistan, won the collateral exhibition award.

Photo by Humayun Memon copyright Karachi Biennale Trust KB24

Photo copyright Karachi Biennale Trust KB24

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S.A. NOORY

Art is a form of expression that allows artists to convey their emotions and feelings through their creations. Each artist has their own unique journey and experiences that have led them to their preferred style and message. It is fascinating to learn about how different artists merge their spiritual beliefs with their artistic practice to create meaningful pieces of art. S.A. Noory started as a miniature artist, and through the years mysticism and symbolism have become the focus of his art.

How did you become interested in art?

SA: As a child, our love for sketching and drawing often goes unnoticed until someone helps us realize our potential as was the case with me. I was in 7^th grade, when I discovered my extraordinary skills in art during my participation in an art competition being held at Arts Council Karachi by UNICEF, where I secured first position among 400 participants. This was the defining moment that sparked my interest towards pursuing arts and since then, there has been no turning back.

What drew you towards Sufi-inspired art?

SA: The stories of the Sufis, their devotion, and the message of spreading peace among people has always inspired me. As an artist, I believe that it is our responsibility to spread positivity through our work, and it was only natural for me to merge my spiritual beliefs with my art practice.

What techniques and materials do you employ in creating your works?

SA: I have worked with various mediums over the years, but I enjoy working with watercolors and acrylic paints. Currently, I am working with acrylic paints on canvas.

Have you faced any challenges in merging your spiritual beliefs with your artistic practice? How have you overcome them?

SA: Fortunately, I have not faced any major challenges in merging my spiritual beliefs with my artistic practice. Sufism is a universal message of love and peace, and I have been fortunate enough to receive positive feedback from my clients.

Who are your artistic influences?

SA: I have been inspired by many orientalist painters like Edwin Lord Weeks and Rudolf Ernst, who traveled to Asia to work on Muslim culture and monuments. Their skills left a profound impact on me greatly influencing my work.

What personality trait do you have that has been most helpful and what are your accomplishments in your art career?

SA: I think having a strong observation and being my own critic has helped me a lot. I would say that my ability to observe and critically analyze my work has allowed me to improve my art consistently. As an artist, the most significant accomplishment for me is the ability to express my emotions through paintings. I am proud of my ability to spread positivity through art and the love and support I have received from the art enthusiasts over the years.

What is your favourite piece of work you have created and why?

SA: It is very difficult to say because every piece of art has its own uniqueness and beauty. But I must say my favorite is “The Series of Sufism” because it conveys the message of peace to the world.

Do you have any really memorable reactions to your work that you’d like to share?

SA: Every artist puts their heart and soul into their work, hoping to touch the lives of others with their creations. One particular client’s heartfelt message still remains green in my memory. They expressed, “Whenever I see your painting, I feel peacefulness, keep on spreading this message of peace.” It was in that moment I realized the impact my art had on others, and it affirmed my belief that I was contributing to something meaningful.

What do you think makes your work unique?

SA: What sets my work apart is the process I undertake before creating a painting. Prior to translating my vision onto the canvas, I sketch freely, allowing my lines to flow without constraints. This approach gives my work a unique sense of freedom and movement, capturing the raw essence that distinguishes it from others.

How has your art evolved over time?

SA: Throughout my artistic journey, my work has undergone a transformative process, growing more mature and thoughtful. As I continue to explore different mediums, techniques and themes, my ability to convey emotions and messages through my art has gained a deeper meaning.

What role do you think the artist has in today’s society?

SA: There is a dire need of patience and peace in our society and I believe artists, through their creations, have the power to communicate, inspire and spread love and patience through their art and help inculcate these values among the individuals.

Is AI killing creativity?

SA: When it comes to visual art, I believe AI cannot kill creativity. Instead, it lends a helping hand to graphic designers. Just as the advent of color printers initially raised concerns about the devaluation of original paintings, the role of AI in the artistic world is complementary. AI aids in the creative process providing designers with new tools and possibilities, while the artist’s unique imagination and personal touch continue to breathe life into each creation.

If you mentored younger artists who are beginning their art careers, what would be your advice to them?

SA: Just one advice and that is do not keep on copying other artists. Try to make your own style and do something new which represents you. Dare to explore your unique style, daring to create something entirely new and let your artwork be a beautiful testament to your individuality.

What’s next in your artistic realm? Are there any upcoming projects or exhibitions that you are excited about?

SA: Whenever I do something new I try to make a series of that and exhibit. I am excited to finish my new paintings and have a solo show again.

Going forward, my artistic realm takes shape as I embark on new projects and embrace upcoming exhibitions. With each new artistic endeavor, I strive to create a series that encapsulates a distinct theme or emotion.

What message do you want to convey through your art?

SA: The primary message I want to convey through my art is the message of peace. The message of Sufism is a beautiful and much-needed message for society and the world as a whole.

The post From Miniatures to Mysticism appeared first on Glam Magazine.

From street art masterpieces to digital installations, the festival offered a variety of diverse artistic expressions. Following are a few that stood out the most:

Tribute to My Father – Pomme Amina Gohar

Unravelling everlasting connection and memories through cherished objects, Pomme Amina Gohar pays a heartfelt tribute to her father, Aitzaz ‘Jaji’ Shahbaz. According to the curator, her father was a man who was larger than life and lived it to the fullest.

Evolving Thoughts – Abdul Jabbar Gull

Abdul Jabbar Gull tries to explore the mysterious link of the corporeal world to the ethereal world. “Searching for answers, I am confronted with ever deeper, unresolved questions. Translated into the focus of my subject as three dimensional, winged forms, I endeavour to discipline my thoughts and create order by juxtaposing them with the Thakhti, a symbol of awareness. Still my thoughts fly hither and thither, leading me into unknown dimensions, ever teasing ever intriguing,” shares the artist.

Pain – Gabrielle Brinsmead

These paintings are a part of a larger series of works called Strangers and Pilgrims. All the paintings in this series describe the sometimes circular, sometimes baffling journey that each person on earth is making.

Ascent – Sanki King

One of the most important beliefs that have existed, and widely accepted throughout history; from the advent of the first human tribes, to this day, is the belief that humans have two existences, a physical one and a spiritual one. And when people die, their souls follow a divine path to ascension, rising up to higher levels of existence – in religious beliefs, closer to God, in spiritual beliefs, closer to the “source.”

Snakes & Ladders – Obaid Ur Rehman

The artwork represents a fun interpretation and a twist to the nostalgic game of Snakes and Ladders.

The Fallen Cone – Syeda Sheeza Ali

The Fallen Cone serves as a poignant metaphor for the human experience. It encapsulates the bittersweet notion that happiness can sometimes feel tantalizingly close, only to slip away at the moment of anticipated fulfillment, which is what the artwork conveys.

Q Quest – Amin Gulgee

The display hints at a journey of mechanical flying across the cratered Amber Moon.

Loss – Behram Farooqui

This installation highlights the ongoing genocide and ethnic cleansing happening in the state of Palestine.

Wonder – Talhakaar

“Wonder” is an immersive experience and an interplay of light, reflection and illusion. It is a visual journey that invites viewers to contemplate the infinite potential of perception by combining tech, mirror work and light.

Expressing her opinion about the festival and installation, Curator Pomme Amina Gohar said, “This vibrant space isn’t just about viewing art – it’s a multi-sensory experience. It’s a labour of love and creativity. The presence of art maestros in the show has given tremendous courage and guidance to emerging talent.”

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