Baseer and not Bashir, he asserts. Baseer (Ashraf), owner of an advertising agency, art collector, art critic, friend of artists and an artist in his own right.
His paintings reminds one of recurring dreams. A naked, female body sitting in the lotus position looking at infinity - an erect thumb pointing towards the sky, and forms which animate and change shapes with ease still keeping the intimacy like figures in the game of rugby or in a group folk dance.
One always wonders at the process of creativity - how these forms come about, or happen - their origin, formation, fermentation and taking the final form.
It appears they could not have come through the process of logic or the work of the left hemisphere of the brain.
One has to depend on the right hemisphere of the brain or the surrender of the intuition to the unknown storage of memory and energy which helps to create the images which seems to be wanting to pour out once the creative process starts.
For Baseer these pictures have been dribbling out for the past couple of years.
One finds a trickle of joy in these three-dimensional miniatures. In a way they are sculptures - ready to move out of the paper.
This brings about future possibilities of Baseer miniatures into Art? Approval from the critics, artists, audience, curators, gallery directors, art buyers or the history or the time itself; or what is the logic for the existence of art; the sprawling homes, the museums, artists' studios, galleries. One question further as to why artists create art.
After living in the west for so long and having the experience of the so-called luxury and forms of affluence, one realizes the true existence is not in comfortable living - the soft mattresses, the plush carpet, or airconditioning or central heating. Of course the body loves all this. But the visual and the aural senses keep on craving. TV seems to have fooled both theses senses. More fortunate souls prefer to listen to the taped Pakistani and Indian or American music and there is enough variety in Pakistani cuisine to satisfy the palette.
The most important thing in living is nor big house or an expensive car. But a style of living - which comes with taste and sense of aesthetics.
Modern Art originals embellishing the walls and dancing bare feet on the naked marble floor will bring excitement. By removing the carpet from the floor or wallpaper from the wall, one could use the money saved to purchase original Art.
One abserves that money and affluence and good taste rarely make good partners; rich folks generally are satisfied with gaudy, loud music and cheap art.
In the state of intoxication through alcohol and money, one's role gets reduced to ordering servants to get the chores done inefficiently, telephone answered rudely, the house cleaned with Jharoo, or giving parties where most of the people drop in for a short while and the efforts of the hostess and others are rarely fully appreciated.
Life becomes so vulgar and drab and mechanical that one finds people running from one party to the other shaking hands here, nibbling on the food there, having a drink at the third place - routine night after night.
In this state of sleepwalking, is there a space for Art?
In life, exceptions are rules. So I find an oasis in Baseer Ashraf, his home filled with Art, his office displays works by living artists. His life goes on looking, loving, living with art.
With so much of art around, it is no surprise that after seeing and living with Art for all these years, he took on the role of the Artist and started creating art, which is humming and bubbling with life - images which tickle and tease the imagination of the viewer.
(P. Mansaram, an Indian - fornartist now settled in Canada. Offered this comment on a visit to Karachi in 1991.)
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