Zahid Mayo: Break the canvas

When Zahid Mayo was studying at the National College of Arts, one of the most famous art universities in the country (NCA) Lahore, he was a square peg with a round hole. Mayo had dreamed of studying there since his teenage years, and was eventually able to get admission in 2008. village Near Gujranwara, he felt alienated in his new environment. His fellow students with impeccable English and urban methods made him feel that he would always be an outsider. But again, Mayo is not the person sitting such a thing, he has shifted fire to his art.

As he wandered around the city, Mayo began to include images of the densely packed Lahore crowd in his paintings as the crowd allowed him to just blend in and escape as a faceless, unknown observer. This exercise not only helped him improve his skills, but also helped him evolve his artistic expression into a unique expression. In 2013, just before he graduated, he set up his thesis display on the roof of a campus building, away from the walls of the gallery where the rest of his class had exhibited their works. That roof was where he spent most of his time in college, and that was where he believed his art belonged. The ju-deputy was reluctant to show up to see his work until he began to break and burn the canvases one by one. Mayo’s eccentric tale is now part of NCA folklore, but his beginnings were extremely humble. He says,

“I had a really good time at elementary school. It was a small, two-room building with trees. We sat down with rags from the house. Three or four teachers.Katibs‘ (Caliper) And that’s where my training began. I started with calligraphy, but I was drawing quickly because it was natural. My teacher encouraged me and what I learned was really valuable and it stayed on this date as I was with me. ”

Mayo comes from a family of contracted farmers with no land. In his village and the neighboring town there were all the other homes Katib Or calligrapher. these KatibsThere was a great demand once, but when I created calligraphy on my computer, I realized that I had no work. Mayo was trained as a child to write in bamboo column (pen) Takti (board) And he was always praised for his beautiful handwriting. So, naturally, he was very miserable when his parents forced them to study computer research in hopes of a better future.

After passing his enrollment, he decided to spend a year packing his bags and travelling to Lahore to join the NCA, a university he had heard from an older boy in the village. To his family’s relief, he did not seek financial support, but it was sad to see him go. Once he reached town, he spent his first day making all he could by sketching portraits of tourists at Fort Lahore and other strange jobs that took him around town. But those experiences, as he says, shape his artistic sensibility;

“My first experience in Lahore made me want to create art that goes beyond the limits of the canvas. I have a problem with the fact that art is limited to galleries, studios and private collections that are out of reach of the public. Art should not belong to those who can afford it, especially since they are not always grateful for such people.”

Instead, Mayo prefers to paint walls, trees, rocks, various scraps, and sometimes trains.

“I knew about this abandoned train carriage parked on a dysfunctional track near a train station in Lahore Cantonment. I thought about turning it from nearby to a safe space for kids. Katchi abadi (Illegal Reconciliation) Practice the art. I gathered a few friends and we spent hours cleaning the space, and I did some calligraphy outside of it too. As we were about to finish, the police stormed the carriage and we ended up spending a few hours. Hawarat (prison). “

Public painting was a more social experiment for Mayo. Because he wanted people to become curious and ask him about his art. He once drew Ustad Daman’s Poetry on the inner wall Lahore. Even people who lived in the area for generations had never seen a project like this before. Mayo says,

“The kids laughed and observed from afar while the women in my neighborhood came and spoke to me. I also experimented with drawing the same poem in Gurmuki, the language I spent my time studying, as a homage to those who had migrated from the walled city of Lahore. That’s when the situation felt a little nervous as I began to get upset with this text that people couldn’t understand. So I had to leave that poem halfway through.”

However, the efforts were not lost, and a few months later, Indian Sikhs contacted Mayo and appreciated Gurmuki’s incomplete poem. He came across a wall during his pilgrimage to Lahore and was impressed enough to make a video and share it over the internet.

“Art can start a dialogue, isn’t it an idea? After they were destroyed, I was disappointed when they restored the murals on the walls of the Karachi Press Club. The portrait of the heroes of the city was a statement by the artist, but when the faces turned black, it began a dialogue.

French 90 feet long concrete boundary wall embassy Islamabad features murals painted by Mayo and his friends. The mural incorporates several poems from Iqbal and the words of Victor Hugo. Mayo believes that his art in public may wither over the years, but that it is never lost as it is engraved in people’s consciences.

“I think the process of art creation in public places and how it has the power to involve people is far more important than the art itself.”

So with enthusiastic strength, Mayo continues to paint on incompatible surfaces and atypical environments. His calligraphy extends beyond flat surfaces to curvature, moving from the canvas towards the wall. What the Surface Mayo finishes work is determined very organically, and the surface may decide what he draws on it, and at other times it may inspire a hunt on the surface where his ideas can be carried out.

“Every artwork has its own requirements, and for my practice, I cannot act in a specific way to conform to rules defined by society. I am, what am I? Artists must be honest with themselves without fear of judgment. Integrity is a fundamental prerequisite for practicing any art form. Otherwise, that magic will fade over time.”

Mayo was tickled when a few people contacted him and said they saw his work Lahore Biennale Although he was not part of it, he was in Karachi at the time. However, people were not wrong, as his calligraphy works are prominently displayed on the trunks of trees. Jinna Garden But even before the Biennale culture came to Pakistan, it took place a long time ago. Mayo wants to continue experimenting with a variety of media and subjects. At the heart of his philosophy of art is the belief that his work should be accessible to as many people as possible, not just the individuals who own it.

“My friends and I also started a line of clothes and tote bags under the name of Sajish (conspiracy). My calligraphy adorns my work, and even when one person owns a shirt or bag, it makes my art mobile and accessible to many. I like to continually reinvent myself, break rules, push boundaries, and challenge norms. I want all my exhibitions to be different from my previous works. Maybe I’ll try video art next. We are also experimenting with subjects for future exhibitions. Life is so much more fun. ”

All photos courtesy of Zahid Mayo