photographs for me are like paintings and paintings like dance and dance like poetry and poetry like water and water like life and ….
Material progress though relevant seems to have brought us to a point where we realize that prosperity fails unless shared and that the new order must take into account our interdependence as humans and with our natural environment.
“four haikus” comprises my video poems which want to draw attention to our closely entwined lives with nature. I shot the raw video footage during my visit to Japan, the beautiful land of haikus and zen philosophy.
As the core of Buddhist metaphysics, in haikus, the first imperative is its location in nature and then a reflection upon the transience of natural things. That rhythmic world of nature teaches us compassion, integrity and brings meaning into life. At the very core of my works lies the culture of zen, which is the video’s poetic and interpretive core.
Chromatic Resonance: The Space Between
For an artist strongly rooted in historical depiction and discovery through highly textured oeuvre incorporating organic and multifarious Materia (earth, sand, paper, salt, rock, ink, ash and nails), this body of work by Saba Hasan manifests an embrace of photography and video with an equally potent and variant aesthetic.
From a more monochromatic palette to such vibrant chromes, photography has brought her back to colour. Expressions of poetry, contemplation and thought have imbued the sites, sounds and loci surrounding her quotidian world and her travels. Throughout is a continuous vision, one of metaphoric peregrinations and metaphors of light and shadow. Beyond mere nuance, from her journey to Japan in 2012, her video Four Haikus evokes the spirit and timelessness of the renowned Japanese poets Matsuo Basho (d.1694), Yosa Busan (d.1783), and Kobayaschi Issa (d.1828).
How to explore a unique, yet shared vision explores depths and unexpected revelations which cross borders of time and space. As penned by William Shakespeare in The Winter’s Tale (First Folio, 1623), “The art itself is nature” (Act 4, Scene IV). Her creative quest embodies shifting paradigms and vistas, resulting in an embrace of imagination and reflection on facets of elements which often one has forgotten to note.
Walking makes me feel like a mystical explorer with a restless yearning for the unknown. Somewhat like my ancestor, Bandagi Shah Jamal, a Sufi migrant who came across Syria, Iraq, Afghanistan, past the valley of Indus into the northern plains of Hindustan. He walked with his brother, Kamal, and other itinerant ascetics into the times of Akbar; finally choosing the meandering riverbanks of Benares as his resting place.