The whimsy of 1×1


The whimsy of 1×1

  1x1 was a simultaneous occurrence of shows in three different cities that brought together a large group of artists working across different

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1×1 was a simultaneous occurrence of shows in three different cities that brought together a large group of artists working across different mediums, all working within the same size.


Like the windows of a building, uniform, yet owned by different entities. 1×1 offers unique way of looking into the practices of the artists.


The residents of this great horizontal building are a charming swarm of curious creatures. All hung equidistant to one another, but they must not enter each other’s home. Men and women, turned into 1×1 frames, the city must find a space for them to habit. Poised they hang, some in perennial slander, others in supple whismy, some in silence, others in darkness. The misdeeds and superfluous pleads of the many, hung dormant, windows into the world’s of these artists.


Knock, knock, shall we enter please.Kiran Saleem, my what bright yellow walls you have, is that a fish you have there, oh well, atleast it has gills. Karen David’s beautifully rendered fetus makes us think of the grim inhabitants of this giant city; the petulant bodies tucked away in nocturnal delirium. Shall we chomp on another samosa. Yes we will, why thankyou. Farhat Ali brings us some old world Bolly charm with a big blip, while Farazeh Syed gives us a taste of the good life. Oh my, Erum Akhtar thanks for bringing in some spice. I shan’t stare too long, but I will come visit you again. Let me squeeze my way through. I’ll hold the blue from Ahsan Javaid’s Rhim Jhim, what a glorious stack of cloth. The Little Warrior by Irfan Gul Dahri takes me into a bright slippery frenzy. Affan Baghpati catches me a rare sight of a flying surmedani, thats my kind of UFO. Dole out a slice of coffee cake, and pass me the crisps. Atif Khan’s Mystical Flight is as dreamy whilst Abida Dahri takes us into profound introspection. Pink was really once Red, what a thought, the kind that sits on the horizon waiting for the sun to turn gold. Ghulam Hussain take us into quiet intricacy. I almost hear the alligator next door.


This really is not a place for the faint-hearted, the merry men and women have hung out their laundry to dry and we get to visit. Adeel-uz-Zafar, my what a lovely cub you’ve got there. I wonder if it’s friends with Shiblee Munir’s Musalman Makhi. Ehsan Memon gives us a striking pose with a lota, how wondrous, I wish I could move in here. Ye jump, I jump..


We hop, skip, step and Madiha Hyder gives us harrowing charm, maybe I’ll ring the doorbell and run away. Jovita Alvares lures us into the placid charm of the banal..a dream away, Rabia Farooqui set the tone in coquettish manner, we almost hear a squeak and scuttle away. It not time for spring cleaning, yet. Injila gives us a mighty glare as we cross the home of Amna Rehman, we will visit again, I promise for now Aakif Suri has enamored me with lavish whimsy.


I shall whisk away, but let me make another full circle again. I’ll tap onto the stranger and let them know, how very delighted I am. One by one, we all leave, the artists take a mighty sigh and pull out their masks and walk away. The floor is strewn with paintings and other such glorious things, they will pose again tomorrow for when the others come to visit.