‘Lucky to have got support across border’

Easily the most recognised Pakistani artist in India, Rashid Rana’s claim to fame, however, isn’t just his India connect. He’s put Pakistani contemporary art on the world map. Head of the Fine Art Department at the School of Visual Arts and Design, Beaconhouse National University, Lahore, his seminal works are a part of many international collections. Be it his steel-and-photo installation Desperately Seeking Paradise II or photo-mosaics like What’s So Pakistani About This Painting, Rana’s art straddles many mediums and worlds. Perfectionist, contrarian or control freak, one thing he isn’t is a conformist.

Many call you the poster boy of the Indian art scene. What makes you click so well here?

I am not sure if that categorisation is correct. I do not preempt any such divisions in my audiences and do not define them by nationality. Having said that, I am lucky to have found great support across the border, being based in Lahore. A Bombay gallery still represents me and a solo show in India became my launch pad in 2004. Perhaps because India has a relatively well-developed arts infrastructure, it is easier to reach and influence an audience.

You often talk of duality. Are those from the subcontinent more comfortable with this notion?

I think we inhabit a contradictory world at large. Although my work cannot escape the influence of my geographical location, I do not address ideas of duality strictly in relation to the subcontinent.

How did you go about making My East is Your West, your collaboration with Shilpa Gupta?

At the inception of the project, Shilpa and I met at the Palazzo Benzon, Venice. Our conversation was significant because it helped determine some broad common concerns in our respective practices. An individual’s transaction with authority was one of these but the list also included visual perception, ideas of location and dislocation and others.

How do you find a distinct identity when you are in a collaboration?

Since our initial conversations, we have both worked independently in our studios on separate projects. We stayed in touch for decisions like display design, curation and publication, etc, but our works maintained their autonomy.

What is the most striking difference between the Indian and Pakistani art scene?

Overall, I think there are more similarities than differences. The few variations are that the arts infrastructure is better developed in India, there is some state support and an interest in roles other than the artist-practitioner, such as curators, art consultants, managers, etc. In Pakistan, these roles aren’t so strictly defined and an artist has to wear multiple hats. Secondly, art in Pakistan is more closely related to pedagogy, with many practising artists choosing a role in the art school, a trend that has significantly influenced the direction of art.

How easy is it to thrive as an artist in Pakistan? And how difficult is it to exhibit in India?

I am sure it is not easy to thrive as an artist in Pakistan, particularly in the absence of state support, but opportunities are growing and I am hopeful. The opportunities to exhibit in India are available for artists from Pakistan, particularly in the last decade, despite the strained relationship between the states.

You are often quoted as saying that “tradition is an illusion of permanence”. How important is tradition in the context of contemporary art?

I do not think that tradition is a monolithic hegemonic entity. I reject the didactic tone in the word. Of course, it is a construct that is being constantly reexamined. In that sense, one would assume that its importance is diminished. However, given that in the contemporary moment, the past (not only from my geographical location, but from elsewhere as well) is available at our behest, I do not shy away from using it in my work.  

You painstakingly bring together multiple images as one. 

I am interested in fragmenting linear, fixed occurrences in time and space. The forms/techniques I end up using are naturally informed by my conceptual concerns and vice versa.

You broke out of the mould and decided to work differently from the norm among Pakistani artists. Was there a particular impetus? 

I do not believe that there is a decided norm among artists from Pakistan. Some trends emerge according to history, circumstance and current situations but mostly, such expectations are extrinsic. I believe that many artists from Pakistan are inadvertently challenging that notion by simply continuing to practice.

Do you think artists from the subcontinent are expected to paint in a particular fashion?

Because of the way the global economy and politics are intersecting with art in recent times, there was an expectation to sell the idea of one’s ‘otherness’. However, there are many artists from Pakistan who challenge that notion.

With reference to I Love Miniatures, can you explain your relationship with miniature art? 

I Love Miniatures was a defining work for the trajectory of my practice. It was produced specifically for an exhibition titled Around Miniature, curated by Quddus Mirza. The curatorial premise attempted to examine the phenomenon of Neo-miniature that was prevalent in the ’90s. My work was a blatant critique of the claim that the resurgence of miniature was making to a ‘Pakistani identity’. I subverted its very slogan and constructed an image of a Mughal ruler with the immediate visual culture of the city and put a faux-gilt frame around it, picked from the European tradition. I do think that Neo-miniature is a significant movement in art from Pakistan, but I was very uncomfortable with the obligation to join in simply because I was also from Pakistan.

Your works have sold for phenomenal prices.  Do these price tags affect creativity?

I have been careful not to allow monetary success to influence my creative process in a negative way. I made the choice to teach and thus, my living is not dependent on my practice. Yet, at times, increased access to monetary resources enables artists to execute ambitious projects.

What was the trigger for the Language series?

The idea was sown in an interview with Hans Ulrich Obrist, the eminent art critic and historian, where he suggested that my collected images en masse naturally functioned like an archive. This led me to methodically collect signage in Lahore for a particular time. Language gives away the history of a place, and also points to its particular aspirations. However, using these images, I attempted to make images that extended the communicative aspects of language as a visual form.

Where do you find inspiration? 

In my immediate environment, my lived experience as well as in the information I receive remotely, whether it is from the past such as the history of art or from a geographically displaced source in current times.

How was the opening at the Venice Biennale of My East is Your West?

The project was very well received both at the opening in Venice and beyond it. Particularly, the Lahore leg of the project drew a large and diverse crowd.