In a drama played out in three acts, a woman frolics in an overgrown Eden. Her skin is the colour of patina on copper; fleshy and defiant, she reaches for the fruits above.  Radiating and immersive, the triptych is artist Farazeh Syed’s spin on the Genesis story of Adam and Eve; titled Her Heart Was a Secret Garden, it is part of the solo show Madar, Mater, Mataram, and Canvas Gallery gives it centre stage. It hangs in a room accompanied only by natural light and Syed’s precise drawings on milky paper, subsequently it startles and beckons as soon as you enter.

Adam is absent, as he is from all the paintings and drawings in the show. The artist’s female protagonists are self-sufficient, busy and comfortable. The show’s theme casts its net wide, alluding to disparities in portrayals and expectations of women, while exploring ‘mother’— a term at once linked to nature, homelands, and your mama.

She nestles her figures in mysterious, richly hued spaces overseen by birds, where flowers and oversized leaves splay and crowd. With great skill and a relish for colour, she creates a feeling of fruitfulness and largesse in all the works: a sense of germination, growth, and nourishment. A dark-haired Eve moves through three massive panels in Her Heart Was a Secret Garden, mentioned earlier: she flops on her tummy like a teenager, and prances in her paradise. She is far from alone, in a corner an amethyst monkey watches peacefully, a cherub blows a trumpet, a fish appears to swim in the air, bird of paradise flowers and leaves jostle, and lilies sprout from under her heel. Even when Syed’s subject seems to be sitting indoors, (waiting at a doctor’s office perhaps) in works like The Most Dangerous Animal is a Woman Smiling, giant palm leaves festoon the scene, and a peacock watches resplendent from the corner. There is a beautiful co-existence in these peculiar spaces. Even a lion sits like a pet spaniel next to a mother and daughter, a red fish glides, parakeets, and parrots perch.

Farazeh Syed primes her canvas in a warm orange, and the colour flickers in Eve’s skin and the creatures around her, making them glow. The artist was fascinated by what she calls “the historical process with its accumulative overlapping narratives, and erasure” striving to preserve the record of layers and overlapping lines. We can see her hand and mind at work; a second monkey sits like a shadow drawing behind the purple one, there are several outlines of Eve’s outreached hand. The painting took almost seven months of sketching, staining, layering acrylic, and fabric.

Trained in classical music by her grandmother, the artist cites “translating the musical to the visual because it is so much a part of me” crediting it with her “understanding of the connection between visual art and performance art.” In works like Of Blue Leaves and Red Poppies, the striking quality of the light creates its own narrative. A figure with her back to us seems to be lit by moonlight or a dream. The artist’s loose strokes fuse hibiscus, t-shirt folds, and soft flesh, much like a medley.

There is an undeniable lyricism in the exhibition: her drawings are of single protagonists, often at rest, reclining on cushions or chairs. They gaze back, unafraid, tender, and formidable. The artist’s marks are full of admiration and softness, the overlapping lines of their feet like ripples on the paper. Syed used to work with live models, but for the last six years has drawn from photographs. The painting But I Was Always a Storm has a seated woman with short hair; monstera leaves surround the composition, and a large Macaw sits like a partner. The woman’s appearance, though casual and quotidian is lovingly rendered.

In the work Madar, Mater, Mataram, which lends its name to the show, a girl with skin like candy floss peeks from behind a cross-legged woman. Sitting next to a lion, they are surrounded by flowers. Fashioned from fabric and paint, the chrysanthemums, lion’s mane, mother and daughter all seem to be melding into one.

The artist is intrigued by the mother-daughter nexus: a mother carrying a child, and the offspring shouldering the generational trauma and baggage of their parent. The painting evokes the ferocious protectiveness of mothers and ideas of female energy. In The Most Dangerous Animal is a Woman Smiling, a figure sits octopus-like, simultaneously fiddling with her phone, possibly stifling a yawn and clutching her wallet and face mask. Farazeh Syed celebrates the extraordinary versatility of women, how they can do and be everything, and the work is the visual equivalent of a woman holding a baby, cradling a phone to her ear, cooking dinner while typing on a computer.

In a world of taxing beauty regiments (10-step cleansing rituals for glass skin), where beauty’s gatekeepers keep narrowing the entryway, Farazeh Syed’s women are slouchy heroines. Goddesses with hair tied in buns and ponytails, they dance with the leaves and lilies, enchanting us as they sway and conquer.

‘Madar, Mater, Mataram’ was held at Canvas Gallery from 6th to 15th February 2024.

Title image: Her Heart Was a Secret Garden, fabric collage, acrylics and charcoal on canvas , 120 x 72 inches Year: 2023

All Images Courtesy of Canvas Gallery