The geomorphological and organic development of the late fifties was soon to be replaced by the incongruous and inept nature of urban public policy in many significant and heavily populated areas of Karachi. The gradual socio-economic changes of later decades produced poverty and disparity, with negligible access to basic amenities and infrastructure amongst the people. An influx of rural dwellers seeking economic stability led to a rapid urban spreading of constructions within the city and its outskirts. Efforts were not made to strengthen the technical, managerial and financial capacity of the prevailing institutions. In its place, new institutions were established which resulted in a great deal of confusion and disorder.

Furthermore, the urban transformations foisted by modernity neglected the existing structures and urban fabrics, which became subjected to gradual decay. The last two decades have warranted spatial transformation and redevelopment, and in many cases obliteration and often neglect of older buildings which were once part of a fully functional traditional urban landscape—now decrepitude, dilapidated and abandoned. This in turn creates a challenging condition regarding the protection of the spatial environment, particularly when the issue of revitalization is equated with those of its contemporary equals.

For many years Haider Ali Naqvi has unobtrusively observed and documented the psycho-geographical and the ever-shifting physical dynamics of the metropolis. I have been carefully following his practice over the years and on some occasions have had the chance to be around him when he is photographing places, albeit inconspicuously. We have had the chance to exchange thoughts and hold conversations about the urban landscape of the megapolis.

In 2018 I wrote, ‘Haider Ali’s artistic vitality reflects the city in a seemingly ‘ordinary’ context and is based on observations of the metropolis from a distance as well as on close scrutiny of its somatic presence. He indulges in a series of walks, through the city, to document its textural familiarity. The artist makes a cognizant effort to develop a visual sensitivity to validate the existence of the metropolis’ urban reality’¹

After visiting the show City as Home – A Pursuit of Protopia, and reading the artist statement in the catalog, my foremost effort was to link the word protopia with the current body of work on display. What is protopia? Kevin Kelly, founder of the online magazine Wired, coined the term protopia. It can be defined as ‘a state that is better than today’ when compared to yesterday— however, it will only be a little better. In other words, a submissive state that blindly follows progressive and positive development that continues from that of the past (Lufrani, n.d.). According to Kelly’s theory we are unable to imagine a future and are in a state of protopia, with the hope that we will eventually be able to generate a clearer idea of a desired and anticipated future. Naqvi focuses on the narrative of the city being in a state of protopia with, as he writes, “constant changes and redevelopments happening around the metropolis affecting individuals’ perceptions of the city as their home.”

Instigated by modern-day lifestyles predisposed to shifting trends, absence of visual continuity between the old and the new, and the ever-growing technological advancements, has led to a loss of a sense of identity and belonging to a place— an issue that is significant in identifying the disinterest amongst progenies towards their inherited family and traditional habitations. Neglect leads to dilapidation which obliterates socio-spatial memories thereby losing a sense of belonging to a place. Modern-day structures serve as spatial divergences between old and new structures, contributing to a marginal sense of belongingness, consequently leading the original residents to depart from what once served as mainstays.

Moving forward, the series All That Glistens is Not Gold (1-16) brings our attention to encroachment. In third world countries encroachment is a longstanding means for the urban poor to make a living as they do not have the means to invest in land and other assets for the running of businesses to support themselves. In the absence of financial stability and dearth of infrastructural support from the government, this is the only route and means of sustaining a livelihood for the poor of our society.  In October 2019, the Supreme Court ordered provincial and local governments, including cantonment boards, to eradicate encroachments with the objective to shut down businesses run by land-grabbing mafia who had obtained government lands from KMC through deceitful deals (Bashir, 2020). Naqvi produces a series of UV printed 18-gauge iron plates layered with lacerated and scoured artificial gold leaf to obliquely represent the lies sold by the mafia in the guise of dreams, to the naïve. Small shops, businesses, and often-times homes have been destroyed due to the illegality of encroachment. The process has been autonomous, and of a colonist mindset whereby no effort has been made to hold dialogue with the lower socio-economic groups before the hasty destruction of encroached areas, leaving them with no alternative to sustain their living. ‘Encroachments are a failure of the government to provide physical space for trade, for work, and to eat and relax. Encroachments are also a failure of the state to control the powerful to appropriate physical space through manipulation and connivances.’²

While speaking about demolished buildings and abandoned spaces, another area of neglect albeit of a different nature altogether, were beach huts— a prominent visual theme materialized in the form of a series of twelve graphite drawings on paper, titled It Wasn’t Something To Write Home About. Beachfront huts are purposely designed to provide the consumer the occasion to take a break away from the demanding lifestyle of the modern world and relax on a sunny, sandy beach overlooking the sea and the horizon. The huts stand prominently in their own glory at a distance from the beach, without impacting the beautiful natural scenery. Many private owners and corporate firms have dotted the sweeping landscape along the Arabian coast with beach huts but many huts, over the years, have seen desertion and rapid deterioration impacted by the weather, with little or no intervention towards maintenance and preservation by its rightful owners. These ‘fallen’ huts have been painstakingly documented by the artist over the years. Retrospectively, the series Welcome Home also seems to circle back to these huts, evoking images of them in their former glory.

The artist enjoys getting access to decrepit and abandoned buildings; he climbs to reach its heights and comb its rubble. He stands inside the crumbling interior watching the distant landscape through the windows and jharokas, and sometimes standing on precarious ledges. The interiors echo the exterior— the visceral ricochets the corporal. While writing this piece, I chanced upon the following quote which seemed to resonate with the artist’s calling: ‘With ideas, it is like with dizzy heights you climb: At first they cause you discomfort and you are anxious to get down, distrustful of your own powers; but soon the remoteness of the turmoil of life and the inspiring influence of the altitude calm your blood; your step gets firm and sure and you begin to look— for dizzier heights’³.

Naqvi documented the city extemporaneously, concentrating on diverse localities such as Gujjar Nala, Shershah, Kemari Town, Korangi, Clifton, Hawkes Bay and Sandspit in order to investigate, reflect and understand what these particular sites mean to the artist as well. His relationship to the neighborhoods and locations was far more than physical engagement and documentation of the landscapes. He went much further than that. He connected with the people of the vicinity he visited and engaged in conversations with them. Some felt forlorn and dejected while some had dreams which were much bigger than the realities they opened their eyes to each day. Haider started befriending ‘Shah Rukh Khan’⁴ whom he had chanced upon during one of his promenades which had landed him at a site in Shershah accommodating go-downs and warehouses. A man perhaps in his thirties, Khan created prototypes of houses made of found objects from a nearby warehouse holding packaging material. A group of 16 adolescent boys, between thirteen and fifteen years of age, would then sell those houses and gain a commission from each item sold, handing the sales money to Khan. Shah Rukh Khan felt that he had a better chance at selling these prototypes if peddled by the children. Haider kept returning to the locality to meet Khan and his team. He would purchase material for them, including glue, paint, brushes, colored aerosol sprays, to aid in constructing the houses Shah Rukh Khan built from the waste materials and scraps available from the packaging warehouses. What started off as weekly sessions of endless conversations with Khan and his boys culminated in a collaborative series titled Welcome Home. Naqvi did not participate in the construction of the ten miniature houses displayed, his role was that of a facilitator.

Coming from extreme poverty did not stop the boys from creating ideal small-scale houses, perhaps resonating with their own dreams of overcoming destitution. Aside from being economic individuals, people are social, emotional and demonstrative beings living in a faith-based system with strong spiritual philosophies. This enables us to address the inner limitations and feelings of deprivation, with the wishful hope that things will come to pass eventually, enabling us to see good in all things— strengthening our beliefs and aspirations to persevere in circumstances beyond our control for a better future. This can clearly link the notion to fideistic⁵ protopia, which credits natural positive progress of mankind.

The artist emphasizes that his is a practice-based inquiry. The process of photographing derelict and demolished buildings over a span of five years and the resulting artworks are an outcome of producing, questioning, critically engaging with, and assembling knowledge that has the competence to indulge in the imaginative intellect and human understanding. He engages with surveying the present physical landscape, focusing on complex and dynamic problems around encroachments, abandonment and neglect. He uses the process of documenting and art-making to integrate both learning and evaluation, offering rich frameworks for artistic research and investigation alongside compositional and material experimentation. The realization of what these sites mean to the artist is important— his body of work mirrors personal meaning-making.

Haider Ali Naqvi’s solo presentation ‘City as Home – A Pursuit of Protopia’ was showcased at Sanat Initiative from 18^th till 25^th August, 2022.

Cover Image: It Wasn’t Something to Write Home About – 4, Graphite on 180gsm Fabriano paper, 12×16 inches paper size, 2022

Image courtesy and copyrights ©Haider Ali Naqvi, 2022

References:

Ahmed, S. D. (2018, April). Prologue-Epilogue. Retrieved from Sanat Initiative : https://www.sanatinitiative.com

Bashir, S. (2020). The Encroachment Debacle in Pakistan . Islamabad: PIDE .

Editorial Board NED-JRAP. (2002). Urban Planning For Karachi During The Post Independence Period. Journal of Research in Architecture and Planning , 41-49.

(2019). Encroachment and Eviction. Karachi: Urban Resource Center.

Lufrani, R. (n.d.). Utopia, Retrotopia, Protopia and the Building of the Civilization of Love. Retrieved from Lumsa Universita: https://www.lumsa.it/