The human mind is a complex subject, maybe even the most complex, and for something as sacred and holy as this, mediocrity is an insult. Something maybe we all understand at some level but funny thing is how easy it is to ignore this magnanimous denotation. That’s what I like about art, it knocks an understanding from deep within and before you know it, you find yourself pondering over an unvocalised notion as you browse through, painting after painting, a fleeting journey of reflection. A stroll through Koel Art Gallery is always refreshing; awashed in sunlight, the white walls welcome you alongside a rectangular grey pool making for an elegant contrast. Now that’s an art gallery that channels the artistic milieu. The exhibition curated was titled “Small is beautiful” showcasing artists Alia Bilgrami, Amna Hashmi, Marium Baniasadi, Mohsin Shafi, Saima Ali, Samar Zia and Zarina Khan – a diverse range of art practices inspired by a careful study of social structures and an attempt to articulate a dialogue.

Coming face-to-face with a curious lady with a tulip face, I gazed at for what felt like eternity, allowing the title to add context. ‘Too much love will kill you’ – a handcut collage with mixed mediums on paper in synthetic frame was a lesson everyone needs to take home. “I exploit my unadulterated access to the deepest emotions embedded beneath the surface, only to explore the whispered secrets of dreams and desires by attempting to capture what I see and record their frail existence, only to return and relive. Hoping to make the viewer see reality through the fiction of my eyes. Where nothing is as it is and everything is as it isn’t,” says artist Mohsin Shafi.

My curiosity reached new heights as I continue my stroll through the gallery when winged creatures start to make an appearance. I stand and stare, contemplating what it means but if there is one thing I have learnt innumerable exhibitions later, is understand the artist to understand the art. “A first hand observation of the oxymoron that is the human mind and body; both frail and resilient simultaneously, is what catapulted my interest in biology and technology. Hence, the key subjects informing my practice are myth, religion and science, particularly biotechnology, punctuated with elements of fantasy and anthropomorphism. This body of work is a culmination of the last seven years and derives from personal experience, memory and the imagination of my eight-year old self,” says Samar Zia.

The crowd in the gallery thickens and the chatter gets louder. Artists mingle and utmost admiration is showered, on art and the perspectives behind them when bright hues catch my eye. Carefully defined lines of futuristic cum dystopian world appear and the corners of lip curl into a smile. Before me is a world where companions that surpassed their tribes co-exist in an unpredictability of sorts. Maybe that was the beauty to behold. “The photographic form is one which is often taken to be irrefutable proof of existence, in contrast to a painting which can capture even that which does not exist. And through these captures, narratives get bound to spaces, personal or impersonal,” says Amna Hashmi. “Yet within the cracks of the ‘existing’ narratives that are made reality through these captures is the realm of the ‘what-ifs’ - a state that might have been, could have been, or even could never be, but that which the mind entertains itself with if it could ever be. This work seeks to explore those ‘what-ifs’ of the fancies of imagination, that awaken the most when traveling through unfamiliar spaces, by imposing them upon the existing realities of instant captures.”

The thought returns like a ball bouncing on the floor, commanded by gravity; how liberating must it be to be an artist? To defy society, the laws of physics and our very own biology and the whole world for you to drive inspiration from. •