Maha Minhaj

Site Project

ABSTRACT

My site based performance art is about various ethnicities presiding in Karachi. My area in focus is Gizri Area (previously Gadhri Village) in Phase IV of DHA.  I chose this site due to two reasons: 1) The Gizri Village was, and still is, a vast humdrum of ethnicity. Ethnicities such as: Sindhi, Punjabi, Balochi, Siraiki, Pakhtun and Hindus. 2) Convenience. Coincidentally, I live on the 9th Gizri Street i.e. the ‘structured’ part of Gizri; it is one street away from the cultural madness, the not-so-structured part of Gizri, and due to this, the interactive dynamics among the people differ as well.

Initially, my performance art was to make one member of each family write a letter to his/her neighbor telling them what they thought of him/her before, and what he/she thought of him/her now (through an ethnocentric perspective). And once written I was to read these letters aloud in front of all the people who took part in writing the letters and also in front of those whom the letter was addressed to, as a part of my performance in the center of my street. Through it, I aimed to get the people of the street talking and communicating with each other.

But, it did not pan out as I had originally planned.

What ended up happening was that people agreed to get the letters written by me as they spoke about their neighbours – only if privacy was granted to them i.e. no reading the letters aloud in the middle of the street with writers in presence of their recipients (with the exception of letting me use their letters as part of my work). Since 100% honesty was required from all the participants, 100% honest they were. Some wrote about love, some about the importance of language and some squabbled about their neighbour’s ethics. But eventually, nobody took the first step of actually communicating with each other due to the dynamics of the ‘area’.

 

The Letters:
IMG_20141117_213130 IMG_20141117_213143 IMG_20141117_213204 IMG_20141117_213215 IMG_20141117_213302 IMG_20141117_213318 IMG_20141117_213330 IMG_20141117_213401 IMG_20141117_213412

 

__________________________________________________________________________________

FIRST DRAFT

According to a British-born, Indian-origin, novelist and essayist, Pico Iyer[1], the people of the world are more connected and a part of the ‘Global Village’. It is also observed now that in a Global Village, people seem to move away from their ‘point of origins’ and travel far and wide, taking with them the histories, the language and the culture wherever they go, hence forming multicultural identities.

My series of letters, titled ‘From Me, To You…’ are pieces from my performance art that I conducted in my street  in Gizri of Phase IV, DHA from November 8th to November 10th, 2014. For my performance I personally went up to the residents living in my street and specifically asked them to write a letter; not an email, but a letter in Urdu to any neighbor of their choice from an ethnocentric viewpoint. In retrospect I now think that I should have asked the participants who were Punjabi, Siraiki, Pakhtun and Afghani to write or get his letter written (since a few didn’t know how to write) in their indigenous language to seem thoroughly ethnocentric rather than (somewhat) forcing them to write in Urdu just so everyone could understand.

Many asked why I chose the medium of hand-written letters as opposed to a dialogue or an e-mail (that seemed more ‘modern’). To that I answer: Yes, e-mails are efficient and have an instantaneous characteristic that is essential for communication. Letters are neither. A letter bears the marks of its maker, the hand movement of its writer, the thoughts written, erased and rewritten for the reader, and it definitely takes its own time for delivery. Despite all that, and all the technology, a letter still holds a nostalgic and a poetic sensibility that sets it apart from an electronic mail. This also was one of the experience that I wanted to give to the people participating who were mostly members of Gen-Y and Boomers. They understood this and used the characteristics of the medium to its fullest.

The question arises of ownership of the art work. Does the credit of creating the artwork go to all people who contributed their time, emotion and mind into this performance of writing letters or does the credit goes to me for conducting and carrying it out since it was my idea? The questions seem relevant and relatable to one of the artist whose work I was inspired by, Alighiero Boetti[2] and Adeela Suleman. Alighiero’s work ‘Mappa’ and Adeela’s installations acquire a similar discourse where the question of ownership of the artwork arises. Another artist’s work with whom I can relate mine is Mona Hatoum’s[3]Measures of Distance’, where Mona took letters written by her mother and overlapped them with photographs, faint conversations in Arabic and an English translation by Mona herself, creating her own version of complex work of video art. Like Mona, I too have used letters written by others in my work but what sets them apart is that I used the letters as they are, like pieces of paper sculpture.

Through my performance, I tried to explore how different ethnicities interact and behave with another and what could be the possible outcome once I have successfully conducted and posted the letters to the respective neighbors.

However, the outcome was not what I had initially planned. The participants refused to write openly and honestly to the neighbors with the fear that one might hold a grudge against them or dislike what they have written. They agreed to participate as long as the letters don’t get posted and I use them solely for my work. I agreed.

The possible outcome that I wanted out of this performance was for the people to come out and interact with one another. But due to the dynamics of the current space, i.e. the area of the upper class, the neighbors seldom speak to each other to maintain privacy. Because of this reason, the outcome that I wanted was never accomplished. The families and individuals continued to live in their own nucleus and the level of harmony remained unachieved. But in a way the performance was a success since the participants were engaging with the idea of communicating with their neighbors, thus engaging with the performance itself, hence being categorized as a relationally aesthetic[4] piece.

[1] Pico Iyer, ‘Where is home?’, TED Talks Online, (Posted: June 2013). http://www.ted.com/talks/pico_iyer_where_is_home?language=en [Last accessed: October 4th, 2014]

[2] This Is Tomorrow: Contemporary Art Magazine. Alighiero Boetti: Mappa, (Posted: February 14th, 2010) http://thisistomorrow.info/articles/alighiero-e-boetti-mappa. [November 20th, 2014]

[3] Measures of Distance – Mona Hatoum. Vimeo. (Date published notmentioned) http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x31gw4_measures-of-distance-mona-hatoum_creation [October 12th, 2014]

[4] Nicolas Bourriaud. ‘Relational Aesthetics’.Trans. Simon Pleasance, Fronza Woods and Mathieu Copeland.

___________________________________________________________________________________

SECOND DRAFT

I don’t know your name, but I like you a lot…[1]

Letter-writing is a dying art. In today’s time, people receive letters in their mailbox in the face of bills, notices and warnings. As a member of Gen Y, I remember the feeling when one received a letter from a dear someone who had ventured somewhere distant. The amount of care that small envelope was handled with was equivalent to hosting a guest at home, at least in my experience.

Through a letter, a person not only communicates his/her daily humdrums, thoughts, ideas and emotions, but also his or herself. The amount of personalization[2] that takes place in a letter is equal to none: For instance, the time taken out by someone to write it down, the sway of the writer’s hand and the saliva applied at the end of the envelope to seal their written selves. It all now seems very poetic, maybe it still is, but it’s definitely forgotten and lost in the mayhem of technology.

 “Normally, you and I have never gotten off the right foot, I thought maybe here

you might be nicer.”[3]

The lines above mark the beginning of my first artistic performance that took place in the street where I live in Gizri Area of Phase IV, DHA. In my performance, there were several contributors, all of whose work became a part of my piece. It is because I live in DHA, the social dynamics vary as compared to the larger chunk of the city, who live ‘on the other side of the bridge’. Inhabitants don’t convene as often here in DHA as they do elsewhere out of privacy and security, since the area is mainly ascribed to the rich and elite. And it is due to this very reason, people who live right across one’s house doesn’t even  know the name, let alone knowing about one’s life.

Anyway, the population in this area has increased. The peace and quiet that

existed before is not there anymore.”[4]

I chose this site because firstly, I live there. Secondly, knowing the history of this area, i.e. how the locals were driven out but slowly and steadily are taking back the lands by actually buying the property.

Previously in 70’s, the locals of this area, ‘Gizri Village’ were either evacuated or cornered (out of sight, out of mind). It now looks wee bit like a slum because of the way it is constructed, all because of urbanization.

With the construction, came the Gizri bridge (that starts from ‘Punjab Chowrangi’ and ends almost till ‘Saudi Embassy’), the entire Gizri area has been visually blocked, impairing the view, sunlight, air and traffic for all the local families living under the bridge. It has also brought in a great number of Pakhtun truck drivers to come and settle in this area.

Over the last 10 years, the houses that were built to urbanize the area have started to be reclaimed back by the locals either by winning court cases or by buying properties.

One neighbor is a Pakhtun from KPK, one an Afghani, two are Punjabi and one is Sindhi. Their significance is that most of them, despite coming from rural areas have finally settled here, but their behaviours and norms inside and outside the vicinity of their house hasn’t changed or become ‘modern’ as they now are a part of a metropolis. They don’t interact with each other much, and still enforce a strict pardah on their women.

Then I invited them at the Milad that took place at my home. But again the

ladies didn’t show up because we had a ‘mix gathering’.[5]

For my performance, I personally visited the residents living in my street and specifically asked them to write a letter (which took a great deal of convincing); not an email, but a letter in Urdu (the local language that everybody understands) to any neighbor of their choice from an ethnocentric viewpoint. They were given the liberty to write whatever they felt like, be it a grievance, praise, complain, an opinion, and anything and everything they thought they could have shared with their neighbour if they had known them. The participants who took the time to write the letters belonged to different ethnicities, such as: Punjabi, Siraiki, Pakhtun and Afghani.

Through my performance, I tried to explore how different ethnicities interact and behave with another and observe what could be the possible outcome once I have successfully conducted and posted the letters to the respective neighbors.

Language is the most important thing. It is what makes your identity.[6]

However, the outcome was not what I had initially planned. The participants refused to write openly and honestly to the neighbors with the fear that one might hold a grudge against them or dislike what they have written. They agreed to participate as long as the letters don’t get posted and I use them solely for my work… I agreed.

I pray to God this letter never reaches your doorstep.”[7]

The possible outcome that I wanted out of this performance was for the people to come out and interact with one another. But due to the dynamics of the current space, i.e. the area of the upper class, the neighbors seldom speak to each other out of privacy; the outcome that I wanted was never accomplished. The families and individuals continued to live in their own nucleus and the level of harmony remained unachieved. But in a way the performance was a success since the participants were engaging with the idea of communicating with their neighbors, thus engaging with the performance itself, hence being categorized as a relationally aesthetic[8] piece.

Artists are mostly referred as mediators between the people and the issues, be they tangible or intangible. My concept here was to act as a post officer who takes letters from the people and deliver it to the neighbor where in that letter one speaks openly and honestly about each other, and that honesty could be as crude, or as tender as possible.

As of this moment, my performance is that of a post officer, holding these letters written by different individuals at an impasse. These letters are also a work of art since they are a part of my performance.

Bourriaud does not disregard the theory of relational aesthetics simply as a theory restricted to interactive art. He considers it ‘a means of locating contemporary practice within the culture at large[9]. Through my performance I aimed to make an attempt to bring the varying ethnicities together. One would wonder why they would behave so differently if they live in an elitist area. To that, the answer lies in the cultural roots of this society.

In Pakistan until the 90’s, the majority of the population heavily resided on the need to remain close and intact with people who had the same race, religion, ethnicity and roots. It was the time when the world was not entirely, according to Pico Iyer, a ‘global village’[10] . And it was the time when it was highly appreciated and expected to remain within one’s own culture. But with the increase of technological use in our everyday lives, the world became more and more connected, which resulted in the interaction of various races and ethnicity, that slowly and steadily led to a mixture of traditions and cultures, thus it lead to the people to stray away from their cultural roots. This impact was more visible in the metropolis and urban areas all over the country. But the people who still reside in the rural areas, did not concur to this fashion of heterogeneous culture.

[1] Ameer Umer, ‘Khatoon’. (Translated by Maha Minhaj) letter written by Ameer to a woman who lives across his house as a part of my performance on November 7th, 2014.

[2] Brett McKay, ‘On The Importance of Writing Latters’. Birchbox. [February 2014] https://www.birchbox.com/guide/article/on-the-importance-of-writing-letters-by-hand [November 28th, 2014]

[3] Kaleem Khan, ‘DSP Walay Uncle’. (Translated by Maha Minhaj) letter written by Kaleem to his adjacent neighbour as a part of my performance on November 7th, 2014.

[4]  Abida Arshad, ‘Mr. and Mrs. Shahid Qureshi’. (Translated by Maha Minhaj) letter written by Abida to an old neighbour who lives a street away as a part of my performance on November 9th, 2014.

[5] Abida Arshad, ‘Mr. and Mrs. Shahid Qureshi’. (Translated by Maha Minhaj) letter written by Abida to an old neighbour who lives a street away as a part of my performance on November 9th, 2014.

[6] Gulistan Habib, “Maha Minhaj”. (Translated by Maha Minhaj) Letter written by Gulistan to me as a part of my performance on November 10th, 2014.

[7] Ameer Umer, ‘Khatoon’. (Translated by Maha Minhaj) letter written by Ameer to a woman who lives across his house as a part of my performance on November 7th, 2014.

[8] Nicolas Bourriaud. ‘Relational Aesthetics’.Trans. Simon Pleasance, Fronza Woods and Mathieu Copeland.

[9] Nicolas Bourriaud. ‘Relational Aesthetics’.Trans. Simon Pleasance, Fronza Woods and Mathieu Copeland.

[10] Pico Iyer, ‘Where is home?’, TED Talks Online, (Posted: June 2013). http://www.ted.com/talks/pico_iyer_where_is_home?language=en [Last accessed: October 4th, 2014]

 

__________________________________________________________________________________

FINAL DRAFT  

“From Me, To You…”

I don’t know your name, but I like you a lot…[1]

Letter-writing is a dying art. In today’s time, people receive letters in their mailbox in the face of bills, notices and warnings. As a member of Gen Y, I remember the feeling when one received a letter from a dear someone who had ventured somewhere distant. The amount of care that small envelope was handled with was equivalent to hosting a guest at home, at least in my experience.

Through a letter, a person not only communicates his/her daily humdrums, thoughts, ideas and emotions, but also his or herself. The amount of personalization[2] that takes place in a letter is equal to none: For instance, the time taken out by someone to write it down, the sway of the writer’s strikethroughs, mistakes and blacked out words are the subtle ways in which a person is revealed on a page. It all now seems very poetic, maybe it still is, but it is definitely forgotten and lost in the mayhem of technology.

Normally, you and I have never gotten off the right foot, I thought maybe here

you might be nicer.”[3]

Thelines above mark the beginning of my first artistic performance that took place in the street where I live in Gizri Area of Phase IV, DHA. In my performance, there were several contributors, all of whose work became a part of my piece. It is because I live in DHA, the social dynamics vary as compared to the larger chunk of the city, which live ‘on the other side of the bridge’.Inhabitants don’t convene as often here in DHA as they do elsewhere out of privacy and security, since the area is mainly ascribed to the rich and elite. And it is due to this very reason, people who live right across one’s house do not even know the name, let alone knowing about one’s life.

Anyway, the population in this area has increased. The peace and quiet that

existed before is not there anymore.”[4]

 I chose this site because firstly, I live there. Secondly, knowing the history of this area, i.e. how the locals were driven out but how, slowly and steadily, they are reclaiming the lands by actually buying the property back from their current owners.

Previously in the 70’s, the locals of this area, ‘Gizri Village’ were either evacuated or cornered (out of sight, out of mind). It now looks like a slum because of the way it is constructed, hemmed in and left forlorn because of advancing urbanization.

With the construction, came the Gizri bridge (that starts from ‘Punjab Chowrangi’ and ends almost till ‘Saudi Embassy’) leaving the Gizri area visually blocked. This has impaired the view, sunlight, air and traffic for all the local families living under the bridge.It has also brought in a great number of Pakhtun truck drivers to come and settle in this area.

Over the last 10 years,rapid urbanization[5]has taken place, whose example is: the houses that were built to urbanize the area are being reclaimed back by locals either by winning court cases or by buying properties.

“One of the reasons for settling here was because of the abundance of Pakhtun

people in the area. Hence it feels like home.”[6]

The cast of neighborhood households include a Pakhtunfamily from the KPK, an Afghani family two Punjabi families and a Sindhi family. Despite coming from rural areas, they have finally settled here. This reflects the ever changing dynamic demography of current day Karachi that sustained 9.2 million in 1998 (the year when the accurate census took place)now contains an estimated population of more than million people.

Even though the households have moved to a metropolis as diverse as Karachi, their adaptation has been slow while their norms and behaviors of the households have not changed (or become ‘modern’).

“The regimes of truth”[7]or “general politics” of truth in Pakistan contain certain discourses which sustain ethnic tensions. For example, each ethnicity is treated so differently in the cultural upbringing of people that it creates these truths (e.g. stereotypes; Punjabis like to eat a lot, Pathans are considered rash, impulsive etc). In other words, these certain discourses (based on ethnicity/stereotypes) are propagated across the country/city which have made their way into the community. A “status of truth” sustains this tension/lack of interactivity, constructing a strange friction in cities as well as the communities that live within them. This friction is manifested in Karachi, for example, by the intermittent outbreak of sectarian/ethnic violence. The site of my performance art is not aloof from the situation and even though physical violence does not occur in the area (due to better security arrangements), there is a pervading silence which marks this tension/violence. Here, distinct and different community members do not interact with one another, creating a wall of separation between one and everyone around him/her.

In this scenario, those letters are a discourse of resistance; containing knowledge with which to battle/negotiate with the “general politics”  of truth (i.e. letters which fight against the impression of the writer of that letter being more than just a stereotype, but a human being).

Then I invited them at the Milad[8] that tookplace at my home. But again the

ladies didn’t show up because we had a ‘mix gathering’.[9]

For my performance, I personally visited the residents living in my street and specifically asked them to write a letter (which took a great deal of convincing); not an email, but a letter in Urdu (the local language that everybody understands) to any neighbor of their choice from an ethnocentric viewpoint. They were given the liberty to write whatever they felt like, be it a grievance, praise, complaint, an opinion, and anything and everything they thought they could have shared with their neighbour if they had known them. The participants, who took the time to write the letters, belonged to different ethnicities, such as: Punjabi, Siraiki, Pakhtun and Afghani.

Through my performance, I tried to explore how different ethnicities interact and behave with one another and observe possible outcomes after I had successfully conducted and posted the letters to the respective neighbors.

Language is the most important thing. It is what makes your identity.[10]

However, the outcome was not what I had initially planned. The participants refused to write openly and honestly to the neighbors with the fear that one might hold a grudge against them or dislike what they have written. They agreed to participate as long as the letters do not get posted and I use them solely for my work; a condition to which I agreed.

I pray to God this letter never reaches your doorstep.”[11]

The possible outcome that I wanted out of this performance was for the people to come out and interact with one another. But due to the dynamics of the current space, i.e. the area of the upper class, the lack of interactivity between neighbours due to privacy concerns; the outcome that I wanted was never accomplished. The families and individuals continued to live in their own nucleus and the level of harmony remained unachieved. But in a way the performance was a success since the participants were engaging with the idea of communicating with their neighbors, thus engaging with the performance itself, hence being categorized as a relationally aesthetic[12] piece.

Artists are mostly referred to as mediators between people and issues, be they tangible or intangible. My concept here was to act as a post officer who takes letters from the people and deliver it to their neighbors. The function of the letter was to allow a chance of communication where one’s neighbour spoke openly and honestly to each other, and that honesty could be as crude, or as tender as possible.

As of this moment, my role is that of a bridge who holds these letters at an impasse. These letters are also a work of art since they are a part of my performance.

Bourriaud does not disregard the theory of relational aesthetics simply as a theory restricted to interactive art. He considers it ‘a means of locating contemporary practice within the culture at large[13].Through my performance I aimed to make an attempt to bring the varying ethnicities together. One would wonder why they would behave so differently if they live in an elitist area. To that, the answer lies in the cultural roots of this society as mentioned above.

But I happened to observe something strange within the letters. Although none of the participants wanted their letters to be posted, I felt in their letters, longing for communicating with one another. Ameer, a young Punjabi boy, 21years of age, professed his love to a married Memon woman with three children who lives across his house. And throughout the course of his monologue, he kept narrating the incidents he had with his neighbours whilst dropping a word or two of his affection towards her time after time. Kaleem, a young Pathan man wrote to his Urdu speaking neighbour whose name he does not know, rather, he wishes to know and aspires to build a civil relationship with him. Abida, a middle aged Punjabi woman, wrote the letter to another Punjabi family just because being Punjabi was a good enough reason for her to write a letter to them. A Siraiki man from Dera Ismail Khan., Gulistan, the only exception from the lot who complained he did not like talking to people within the community as they did not speak the same language he did. Observing these dreams, aspirations, nagging and pure communication, the people in a way break away from their silence and eventually reached out as a desire to talk to the members of the community.

In Pakistan until the 90’s, the majority of the population heavily resided on the need to remain close and intact with people who had the same race, religion, ethnicity and roots. It was the time when the world was not entirely, according to Pico Iyer, a ‘global village’[14]. And it was the time when it was highly appreciated and expected of people to remain within one’s own culture. But with the surge of urbanization, the world became more connected, which resulted in the interaction of various races and ethnicity that slowly and steadily led to a mixture of traditions and cultures, thus it lead to people evolving away from their cultural roots. This impact was more visible in the metropolis and urban areas all over the country. But through these letters, I learned that the people who still reside or come from the rural areas, are suspicious and unconvinced of the heterogeneous culture they are being confronted with. And the fear of losing one’s culture and tradition is what stops them from interacting with one another, even as they long to reach out to communicate with one another.

 

Thank you.

 Footnotes

[1] Ameer Umer, a Punjabi boy living in Gizri, Karachi, since the past 10 years, wrote a letter to the following,‘Khatoon’. (Translated by MahaMinhaj)Excerpt taken from the letter written by Ameer to a woman who lives across his house as a part of my performance on November 7th, 2014.

[2] Brett McKay, ‘On The Importance of Writing Latters’. Birchbox. [February 2014] https://www.birchbox.com/guide/article/on-the-importance-of-writing-letters-by-hand[November 28th, 2014]

[3]Kaleem Khan, ‘DSP Walay Uncle’. (Translated by MahaMinhaj)Excerpt of the letter written by Kaleem to his adjacent neighbour as a part of my performance on November 7th, 2014.

[4]Abida Arshad,a Punjabi woman living in Gizri, Karachi, since the past 35years  wrote a letter to the following, ‘Mr. and Mrs. Shahid Qureshi’. (Translated by MahaMinhaj) letter written by Abida to an old neighbour who lives a street away as a part of my performance on November 9th, 2014.

[5]Arif Hassan, Evolution of Karachi. November 11th, 2009. Pp22, 37, 50, 54, 78- 82, 106-109 & 121.

[6]Kaleem Khan, ‘DSP Walay Uncle’. (Translated by Maha Minhaj)Excerpt of the letter written by Kaleem to his adjacent neighbour as a part of my performance on November 7th, 2014.

[7]Paul Rabinow  (editor),  The Foucault Reader: An introduction to Foucault’s thought, London, Penguin (1991).

[8] It is an Islamic, religious congregation.

[9]Abida Arshad, ‘Mr. and Mrs. Shahid Qureshi’.(Translated by MahaMinhaj) Excerpt taken from a letter written by Abida to an old neighbour who lives a street away as a part of my performance on November 9th, 2014.

[10]Gulistan Habib, a Siraiki man living in Gizri, Karachi, since the past 20 yearswrote a letter to me, “MahaMinhaj”. (Translated by MahaMinhaj) Excerpt taken from a letter written by Gulistan to me as a part of my performance on November 10th,2014.

[11] Ameer Umer,‘Khatoon’. (Translated by MahaMinhaj) From the letter written by Ameer to a woman who lives across his house as a part of my performance that took place on November 7th, 2014.

[12]Nicolas Bourriaud. ‘Relational Aesthetics’.Trans. Simon Pleasance, Fronza Woods and Mathieu Copeland.

[13] Nicolas Bourriaud. ‘Relational Aesthetics’.Trans. Simon Pleasance, Fronza Woods and Mathieu Copeland.

[14] Pico Iyer, ‘Where is home?’, TED Talks Online, (Posted: June 2013). http://www.ted.com/talks/pico_iyer_where_is_home?language=en [Last accessed: October 4th, 2014]

 

Bibliography

  1. Hassan, Arif. Evolution of Karachi. IVSAA, Lecture Hall 1, Karachi. August, 2014. Lecture.
  2. McKay, Brett. On The Importance Of Writing Letters. [February 2014] https://www.birchbox.com/guide/article/on-the-importance-of-writing-letters-by-hand [Last accessed: November 28th, 2014]
  3. Bourriaud, Nicolas. ‘Relational Aesthetics’.Trans. Simon Pleasance, Fronza Woods and Mathieu Copeland. 2002.
  4. Rabinow, Paul (editor), The Foucault Reader: An introduction to Foucault’s thought, London, Penguin (1991).
  5. Iyer, Pico, ‘Where is home?’, TED Talks Online, (Posted: June 2013). http://www.ted.com/talks/pico_iyer_where_is_home?language=en [Last accessed: October 4th, 2014]
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