Watch Joe Sacco as he fields questions about his work and approach to comics journalism from an enthusiastic audience.
In a conversation with The Wire’s editor, Seema Chishti, Joe Sacco discussed his craft, his art, his experiences, the travesty of what is unfolding in Palestine, the significance of his books and the reason why dressing up journalism as ‘both-sideism’ or ‘balance’ does not work and harms the pursuit of the truth. The Wire’s founding editor, Siddharth Varadarajan spoke about the sequence that unfolded as The Wire tried to organise a fundraiser for the children of Gaza. Apoorvanand did the welcome and gave the vote of thanks to Sacco. Teaching Fellow at Ashoka University, Vighnesh Hampapura, elaborated on Sacco’s work before Joe Sacco and Seema Chishti took to the stage.
In a conversation with The Wire’s editor, Seema Chishti, Joe Sacco discussed his craft and the travesty unfolding in Palestine.
In a conversation with The Wire’s editor, Seema Chishti, Joe Sacco discussed his craft, his art, his experiences, the travesty of what is unfolding in Palestine, the significance of his books and the reason why dressing up journalism as ‘both-sideism’ or ‘balance’ does not work and harms the pursuit of the truth. The Wire’s founding editor, Siddharth Varadarajan spoke about the sequence that unfolded as The Wire tried to organise a fundraiser for the children of Gaza. Apoorvanand did the welcome and gave the vote of thanks to Sacco. Teaching Fellow at Ashoka University, Vighnesh Hampapura, elaborated on Sacco’s work before Joe Sacco and Seema Chishti took to the stage.
The Wire’s resident illustrator presents a picture of an evening with a master storyteller and artist.
On November 11, Joe Sacco – the legendary graphic novelist and journalist – sat with The Wire’s editor Seema Chishti to discuss genocide, Palestine, war, humanity and the problem of “objectivity in journalism”.
As the talks unfolded, I had the chance to draw the fabled artist and his audience.
Award winning cartoonist Joe Sacco talks about his approach to journalism, the genocide in Gaza and the misinformation around it in conversation with The Wire.
New Delhi: ‘Is it genocide or is it self defence?’ is a question that has come to frame the violence in Gaza. The answer, according to Joe Sacco, is simple: genocidal self defence.
On Monday (November 11), Sacco walked into a hall of about 1,000 people gathered to meet the legendary comics journalist, cartoonist and author – without any of the fanfare one might expect for someone of his stature.
Sacco, considered a pioneer in war reporting through graphics and comics as his medium, is the recipient of several accolades including the American Book Award (1996), the Eisner Award for Best Original Graphic Novel (2010) and the British Eagle Award in 2001. His Footnotes in Gaza won the Ridenhour Book Prize (2010) and the first Oregon Book Award for Graphic Literature (2012).
But what precedes Sacco is his humility, grace and sharp wit.
Joe Sacco in conversation with Seema Chishti. Photo: Siddharth Varadarjan/The Wire.
In response to a question about why he chose to make comics when it would be easier to just write or photograph, Sacco said, “I wanted to be a news writer for a newspaper, but I could never find a job doing that. After two or three years of sort of soul-crushing, semi-journalistic jobs, I just decided to get out of it and fall back on something I’d been doing as a kid – cartooning.”
“There was no theory behind it. I didn’t sit back beforehand and say, this is what I’m going to do. It just happened organically. Later on I became more self conscious [about the process] because people ask me these questions, and then I do have to theorise,” he said, drawing a laugh from the audience.
Sacco’s 1993 book Palestine, a nonfiction graphic novel based on his experience in the West Bank and Gaza, is considered to be ground breaking in its role for capturing the violence in Palestine. “With the exception of one or two novelists and poets, no one has ever rendered this terrible state of affairs better than Joe Sacco,” Palestinian-American academic Edward Said wrote in his introduction to the book.
About the violence besieging the region today and how one processes something like it, Sacco said, “I think the point is [that] we can’t process it. It’s too much to digest really. The sort of information we’re getting, one image after another, I think if we were able to process it, we wouldn’t really be humans. So it’s a human response to have this really stuck in your throat.”
In conversation with The Wire’s editor, Seema Chishti, Sacco discussed his choice to insert himself into his comics and the dangers of neutrality and a ‘both-sides’ approach in journalism.
“Having my figure in the panels sort of signals the reader that you’re seeing this through the eyes of one journalist. I’m not an authority on a subject. I’m a living, breathing human being who is interacting with people and is subject to the forces of conversations and the things around me. I want people to understand that.
The other thing it made me realise is that I don’t really believe what I was taught about an ‘objective’ style of journalism. I sort of jettisoned that and having my figure in the comic books suggests that this is a subjective experience,” Sacco said.
A packed hall at Jawahar Bhavan. Photo: The Wire.
Speaking of the imbalance in treatment of Israeli and Palestinian narratives by Western media, Sacco in a pointed statement said, “The gold standard American journalism that I was taught actually pulled the wool over my eyes.”
He spoke of how, in his younger years, he came to associate Palestinians with terrorism almost through “osmosis” because of what he was hearing on TV and reading in newspapers. “Every time the word Palestinians was mentioned, it was in conjunction with terrorism. So it was ‘Palestinians have hijacked the bus’, ‘Palestinians have hijacked the plane’, ‘Palestinians are firing rockets’. But you never found out what Israel was doing. And you certainly didn’t understand the context in which things were happening.”
Sacco said it was this resentment over being led into a “pit of misinformation” that made him take up the task of finding out what the Palestinians had to say.
“I never really feel that I have to balance this with an Israeli point of view, because the truth of the matter is, especially if you’re over in the West, the Israeli point of view is all you hear,” he said, to a rapt audience.
A panel from ‘The War in Gaza’. Photo: Joe Sacco/The Comics Journal.
In Footnotes in Gaza, Sacco documented the massacres that took place in Khan Yunis and Rafah in November, 1956. His objective was to speak to the older generation of Palestinians that experienced these events. During these interviews, the children and grandchildren of the people Sacco spoke to often sat in on these conversations. The younger ones, Sacco recalled, would ask him why he wanted to know about a historical event when the Israeli army was bulldozing houses 200 metres away from them as they spoke.
“I understood why they were saying those things and why it felt strange to them,” Sacco said. “Because as someone once told me, events [in Palestine] are continuous. It’s not like this event happened in 1956 and everyone could sort of digest and reflect on it. There is no time for Palestinians to digest a thing because something is always coming after it.
So why would they talk about 1956 right now? I can tell you why. Because Chris Hedges and I met a guy named Abdel Aziz al-Rantisi who was one of the founders of Hamas. And his uncle, when Al-Rantisi was eight years old, was taken out by Israeli soldiers, lined up against a wall and shot. And Al-Rantisi said, at that moment, hatred entered our hearts. So that’s why history is important.”
In one of the editions from ‘The War on Gaza’, Sacco’s latest graphic series on the events unfolding in Palestine since October 7 last year, he says “from universities to journalists, one wonders what isn’t a military target in Gaza?”
“I think it seems to be possible to kill anyone if they’re Palestinian. Journalists are a subset, but they’re also killing medical personnel. They’re killing people trying to clear rubble. They’re killing people in safe zones. As a journalist, it really strikes me that this is happening. And of course, as journalists, we have to raise our voice about that,” he told Chishti.
People in queue to get their books signed by Joe Sacco. Photo: Elisha Vermani/The Wire.
On what bearing Israel’s targeting of journalists and their families has on the profession at large, Sacco said, “This is kind of a morbid and special moment. I don’t think there’s ever been a time when journalists have been targeted like this, and have had to work under such horrifying conditions. It’s different when you’re targeted and I think it’s even worse when your children, your wives, your husbands are targeted. That takes it into another realm.”
“I’m stunned by their bravery and fortitude, but they should not have to… they shouldn’t be going through that sort of thing,” Sacco added.
On whether there can be any reconciliation between the completely diverse world views of seeing the situation in Gaza as either self defence or genocide, Sacco simply said, “I don’t think so.”
The event ended with Sacco fielding questions from an enthusiastic audience. But it was the last member who spoke that gave the event a fitting close. Basem Hellis, a native of Gaza and a Palestinian diplomat, had come to thank Sacco. He also thanked “all Indians who had gathered to extend their solidarity with Palestine”. Drawing a huge round of applause from the crowds, it seemed only right that the last words came from a Palestinian.
During Chhath, it is Sharda ji’s voice that rings from the microphones of Bihar and eastern UP. Her’s was a voice that would ring the festival home.
As a musician I have always believed that there are two types of music which can penetrate your heart. One which makes you happy and the other which comforts you when you are sad.
Until I met the third kind – the kind which makes you cry without making you sad, the kind which makes you so happy that you have tears in your eyes.
My hometown is in Dhanbad (Jharkhand). My family do not set much in store in observing the rituals of Chhath Puja at home, but we have always celebrated it as part of a community, in the neighbourhood. I have never seen an image of the goddess Chhath anywhere, but ever since childhood, I have managed to convince myself that Sharda Sinha was Chhathi Maiyaa, the reigning goddess of Chhath who sings and prays for people.
Sinha, famous across Bihar, passed away a day ago. She was 72.
My friends from Bihar and Eastern Uttar Pradesh have always considered the season of Chhath their designated holiday for the year. Across India, they save their workplace leaves just to be able to take them at this time – to return home and celebrate this huge festival. All neighborhoods echo with songs at this time. And anyone walking by can tell that it is Sharda ji’s voice that rings from the microphones. Her’s was a voice that would ring the festival home. It would make you feel like it was, indeed, a festival you had looked forward to all year.
Popularly known as ‘Bihar kokila’ or ‘the cuckoo of Bihar’, Sinha’s voice and songs were not limited to Bihar but celebrated across the globe.
As a cultural ambassador of the government of India, Sinha performed in many countries, including Mauritius, Germany and Belgium. She has significant fan bases in Fiji, South Africa, Mauritius, the West Indies, Kenya, the Maldives and the USA. She has sung extensively in Maithili, Bhojpuri, and Magahi. Her mettle was a reminder that one does not become Sharda Sinha just like that. Penance, renunciation and concentration makes you Sharda Sinha.
Weddings, functions and the Chhath festival are incomplete without her songs. While the playlist of event-friendly songs have changed with time, Sinha has been forever present on it. You especially cannot have a Chhath celebration without invoking Sinha. She was the festival itself.
If you are in my hometown of Dhanbad during Chhath, her songs will follow you everywhere. They will make you happy. They will also make you cry as you think of the passage of time.
Her death is a personal loss to me. She was an emotion and while emotions doesn’t die, the world is a quieter place today.
His life’s work serves as a reminder that music is more than just sound; it’s an experience shaped by careful, intentional decisions, with every sound and silence in a piece of music serving a purpose.
On the sleeve notes of some of the most memorable and best-selling albums of all time, you’ll find the words “Produced and arranged by Quincy Jones.”
It was a hallmark of quality.
Jones, who died on Nov. 3, 2024, at the age of 91, transformed our understanding of musical arrangement. His work spanned decades and genres, from jazz and pop to hip-hop and film scoring. He worked with pop icons like Michael Jackson, Frank Sinatra, Ray Charles and Aretha Franklin, and also collaborated with lesser-known artists such as Lesley Gore and Tevin Campbell.
Each of his projects, collaborations and forays into new genres redefined what it meant to arrange music.
Musical arrangement might seem like an abstract concept.
Simply put, it’s the art of deciding how a song unfolds. While a composer writes the melody and harmony, an arranger shapes the experience, choosing which instruments play when, how textures build and where dynamics shift.
Arrangement transforms a song from notes on paper into a fully realized piece of art that resonates with listeners. In essence, an arranger acts as a musical architect, designing the structure of a song to tell a compelling story.
Jones brought a visionary approach to arranging. He wasn’t merely filling in the gaps around a melody with a drum beat here and a horn section there; he was crafting a musical narrative that gave each instrument a purpose, guiding listeners through an emotional journey.
From his early work in the 1950s and 1960s with jazz greats like Count Basie and R&B star Ray Charles, to his blockbuster productions with Michael Jackson, Jones saw arrangement as a tool to guide listeners from one musical moment to the next.
Jones created lush, energetic big-band arrangements that perfectly complemented Sinatra’s smooth, warm voice. The choice of brass swells and the dynamic shifts amplified Sinatra’s charisma, turning the album into a lively, almost-cinematic experience. Unlike many arrangements, which often stay in the background, Jones’ took center stage, blending harmoniously with Sinatra’s vocals while adding depth and excitement to the entire performance.
In Ray Charles’ “I Can’t Stop Loving You,” Jones used orchestral swells and background vocals to bring out the soul in Charles’ voice, creating a richly emotional experience for listeners. By intelligently pairing Charles’ gospel-tinged vocals with a polished, orchestral arrangement, Jones captured the tension between sorrow and resilience – a demonstration of his ability to communicate complex emotions through arrangement.
Turning songs into stories
Jones’ skill at using arrangement as a storytelling device was exemplified by his collaboration with Jackson.
Albums like “Thriller” and “Off the Wall” showcased Jones’ knack for inventively layering sounds. On “Thriller,” Jones combined electronic and acoustic elements to create a multidimensional soundscape that set a new standard for production.
His ability to incorporate textures, background vocals and unique instrument choices – such as horror actor Vincent Price’s iconic narration on the song “Thriller” – transformed pop music, setting the stage for future producers to experiment with storytelling in their own arrangements.
In Jackson’s “Bad,” Jones pushed the boundaries of genre by blending funk rhythms with pop structures, giving Jackson’s music a timeless appeal.
The title track’s arrangement has layers of rhythm and harmony that build a feeling of tension and power, enhancing Jackson’s message of confidence and defiance. Each instrument and background vocal in “Bad” serves a purpose, creating a sound that is bold, exciting and engaging.
Lessons for educators
For educators teaching music production and commercial music, Jones’ approach provides a gold mine of practical lessons.
First, his commitment to genre fusion teaches students the importance of versatility. Jones’ career demonstrates that blending jazz, pop, funk and even classical elements can create something innovative and accessible. Students can learn to break free from the constraints of single-genre production, seeing instead how various musical styles can work together to create fresh, engaging sounds.
Second, Jones’ emphasis on storytelling through arrangement offers students a framework for making music that resonates.
In my classes, I encourage students to ask themselves: How does each musical element support the emotional arc of the song? By studying Jones’ arrangements, students learn to think of themselves as storytellers, not just sound engineers. They can begin to see arrangement as an art form in itself – one that has the power to captivate audiences by drawing them into a musical journey.
Finally, Jones’ work shows the power of collaboration. His willingness to work across genres and with a variety of artists – each bringing unique perspectives – demonstrates the value of open-mindedness and adaptability.
His life’s work serves as a reminder that music is more than just sound; it’s an experience shaped by careful, intentional decisions, with every sound and silence in a piece of music serving a purpose.
Jose Valentino Ruiz, Associate Professsor of Music Business and Entrepreneurship, University of Florida.
A volume to celebrate his life’s work, edited by Anjum Katyal and Javed Malick, is a tribute to his legacy.
Habib Tanvir (1923-2009) was a renaissance man of modern Indian theatre who remained active on the stage for almost 60 years.
The recently published book, Habib Tanvir and His Legacy in Theatre: A Centennial Reappraisal, celebrates the life and work of his multifaceted personality. Edited by Anjum Katyal and Javed Malick, the volume features 13 essays by eminent scholars and artistes, including Javed Malick, Shanta Gokhale, M.K. Raina, Anjum Katyal, Sudhanva Deshpande, and others. It also includes an interview with his daughter, the renowned actor Nageen Tanvir, discussing music in his theatre.
‘Habib Tanvir and His Legacy in Theatre: A Centennial Reappraisal’, Anjum Katyal and Javed Malick, Seagull Books, 2024.
While reading the book, I remembered the good fortune we had to celebrate his 80th birthday at JNU, where I was doing my PhD research. He arrived late at night to interact with an amateur theatre group and answered our queries and cut the cake. Later, he performed with his troupe at Open Air Theatre in JNU his famous plays Sadak and Ponga Pandit. During that time, I also had the opportunity to see Agra Bazaar and his masterpiece, Charandas Chor, in Delhi. Perhaps these were his last shows in the city.
After the tradition of Sanskrit plays (Bhasa, Kalidas, Bhavabhuti, Shudraka), drama was absent in the country for about a thousand years. Sanskrit plays were associated more with the elite than with the masses. However, when Parsi theatre emerged and developed in the nineteenth century, it gained a wide support base. During the 15th and 16th centuries, folk theatre in regional languages, which combined music, dance, tradition, and local culture, flourished. The Indian People’s Theatre Association (IPTA), which celebrated 80 years of existence in 2023, played a significant role in the development of modern theatre in India. Habib Tanvir began his journey in theatre with IPTA during the 1940s.
Tanvir’s greatest contribution to Indian theatre was his use of Lok Tatva (folk elements), particularly folk music and song. In Indian literature, ‘Lok’ has a different meaning from ‘Veda’. Groups deprived of Vedic rituals, including those who did not belong to the upper castes—specifically, Shudras and sections of people from all varnas/castes—became alienated from the Vedic tradition and turned to Lokayat paths. However, this does not mean that people have been completely separated from the Vedas. Lok is considered a cultural flow consisting of Shruti and Smriti, from which the Vedas emerged. Some thinkers believe that the lyrical aspects of the folk world itself became the Vedas.
As Javed Malick notes in his essay, ‘A Jugalbandi between the Folk and Modernity’:
“If Tanvir was wary of glorifying the folk uncritically, he was equally careful not to accept the dominant versions of modernity unconditionally. This modernity, he felt, was flawed because it ignored India’s regional languages, its cultural forms and the rich multiplicity of its ‘little’ traditions.”
Charandas Chor, based on a folk tale by Rajasthani author Vijaydan Detha, is a perfect example of this jugalbandi. Its hero is a chor (thief) who believes in truth! In fact, Tanvir’s plays were meant for both urban and rural audiences, closely connecting with common people (lok) and addressing the concerns, trials, and tribulations of the masses.
In his lucidly written essay, ‘Life, Art and Activism,’ M.K. Raina rightly highlights Tanvir’s politics, which were rooted in advocacy for subaltern groups. His Naya Theatre, established in 1959, was a testament to his vision and politics, featuring Chhattisgarhi tribal artists. His plays epitomised “vernacular modernity.” Using the idioms of regional language his plays vociferously raises the ethos of Indian culture and secularism.
As Katyal writes, ‘Habib’s politics could be described as progressive, people-centric, democratic and secular…’. In the current political milieu, he is sorely missed.
Unfortunately, after his passing, Naya Theatre lost its charm. In 2016, it staged his play Kamdev Ka Apna Basant Ritu Ka Sapna, an adaptation of Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream, in Delhi but it failed to generate enthusiasm among theatre-goers and lacked lustre.
During the book’s release in Kolkata, the great actor Naseeruddin Shah remarked, “While in Delhi, I was amazed by Ebrahim Alkazi’s plays and his larger-than-life characters. But when I saw Habib sahab’s AgraBazaar, mere dimaag ki nassein khul gayein. I was moved to tears.”
I greatly enjoyed reading the book but it’s not a critical appraisal of Habib sahab’s work; rather, as the title suggests, it is a tribute to his legacy. It is a treat for his admirers, however for ordinary readers, there may be too much repetition regarding his famous play, CharandasChor.
Arvind Das is professor and director of School of Media and Journalism at D.Y. Patil International University, Pune.
The Bombay HC’s recent chastisement of officials over confiscating nude artwork reminds one of Padamsee’s refusal at a young age to be cowed down by officials who claimed such work was a threat to Indian culture.
On Sunday mornings I generally detour after a game of gently paced badminton to breakfast with my mother, Smita. Last Sunday our conversation turned to a headline about the Bombay high court (a bench of Justices Mahesh Sonak and Jitendra Jain) admonishing the customs department for confiscating seven nude art works of the renowned artists, Francis Newton Souza and Akbar Padamsee.
My mom was quick to recall her chance encounter, 70 years ago, with Akbar Padamsee, then a 26-year-old artist. Young Padamsee had walked up five storeys at Amar Niwas, Girgaum and asked to meet the criminal defence advocate, her father, Haribhai Desai. Haribhai had earned a reputation for searching cross-examination and Padamsee, the recipient of a French government scholarship Prix de Noël, needed to puncture a government prosecution.
On April 29, 1954, the Jehangir Art Gallery in Bombay hosted an exhibition of Padamsee’s paintings. The invitation card suggests a range of 22 works, some of them with bland titles: ‘Man and City 1’, ‘Landscape 1’ and ‘Head 1’.
What appears to have caught the attention of the Vigilance Branch under then chief minister Morarji Desai’s administration were two paintings, ‘Lovers 1’ and ‘Lovers 2’.
The paintings depict a nude man touching a naked woman’s bare breast. Inspector Kanga huffishly asked Padamsee to remove the ‘obscene’ works. Padamsee refused. Foreshadowing the Indian state’s current irritation over journalists, comedians, and assorted free spirits – Padamsee was arrested. Although he was granted bail after two days, the paintings remained in police custody.
Haribhai was initially unconvinced about his client’s defence but when Padamsee trudged up the steep fights again, this time bearing several weighty tomes on art, Haribhai was impressed. Central to many of the great artistic works of the West and East were the human nude.
In a wonderful book, The Catalyst (Speaking Tiger, 2024), Reema Desai Gehi captures the contribution of Rudolf von Leyden (Rudi) in encouraging the Progressive Artists’ Group in the 1950s. On Haribhai’s advice for a strong defence witness, Rudi stepped into the box of the Presidency Magistrate on June 16, 1954. In Gehi’s telling:
“On that fateful day, dressed sharply in a suit, Rudi, a towering figure with a powerful voice and an imposing personality, said in his defence of Padamsee, that the accused was a recognized artist. ‘I don’t think that it was unusual for an artist of his stature to symbolise human love by the gesture of a male touching a female breast,’ he stated. ‘This form of symbolising human love could be traced to the art of various countries, including India.”
On June 16, 1954 the Magistrate M. Nasrullah rendered judgement:
“…In my opinion, painting which is of artistic talent does not become obscene for the simple reason that it contains an expressive pose which in other settings may even be considered objectionable, which from the artistic point of view does no more than justice to the subject before the artist… In the pictures before me, the accused has selected as his subject ‘The Lovers’. In doing justice to his subject availed itself certain liberality in respect of expression and pose. As the accused put it in his statement before the Court, in depicting a subject such as ‘Lovers’, you cannot have a brotherly embrace.
“Looking at these pictures therefore from the point of the viz. the place where they were exhibited and the people who are normally likely to see such products of artistic talent, the pose, the posture, and the facial expressions which I must say are calm and devoid of any glamour, I fail to see how these pictures can come within the purview of section 292 of the Indian Penal Code. I must therefore acquit the accused. I order accordingly. Bail bond cancelled.”
In January 1955 after the state’s appeal was dismissed, the Superintendent of Police returned the two paintings.
Padamsee’s refusal at a young age to be cowed down by officials who saw threats to Indian culture set a benchmark for artistic expression. When the news report of the recent Bombay high court judgement reached Akbar Padamsee’s daughter, the actress Raissa Padamsee, she simply messaged ‘Again !!!!!’.
Shyam Divan is a senior advocate.
This piece was first published on The India Cable – a premium newsletter from The Wire & Galileo Ideas – and has been updated and republished here. To subscribe to The India Cable, click here.
A horse travels from place to place carrying its rider and discovering the world. A horse is unique and universal and he gives more than you can receive.
What is art without a milieu and a milieu without art? How does one relate to the other? How is art a multifaceted indulgence and how does one move from one dimension to the other? This is the wonder of the milieu that create an artist, a painter.
I have tried to bring artistry to the cinematic frame and cinema to the canvas crossing rivers with paper and pencil.
Farasnama: The Legend of the Horse took me to untraveled ground. The horse in an unexplored territory where humans dare not tread. My horses fly, freeze, and bow in homage in mystical ways. They dance in their silence. Their colours manifest shades of greys, charcoal, blacks and unbleached, white, raw umber and grungy browns…and often an unexpected red with spots and markings that make one creature so radically different from one another.
They are symphonic with the eyes skimming over a piano keyboard as one discovers qualities of these magnificent animals. Painting is the playground in which any game can be played without winning or losing.
Muzaffar Ali, oil on canvas, 2024, From the series ‘Farasnama, Legend of the Horse’
I began painting as a child and it held my hand as an artist who was to walk into the dark rooms of filmmaking. I went into art as organically as I could have. Farasnama is a continuation of this happening which is seeking new boundaries, redefining time and reinventing age, and reversing it with the raw energy of the free horse. My horses are free, not controlled by legs, not kicked in the belly. They are meant to be stroked and gently caressed. These horses dance as they strike a muscular pose for the beholder. Dynamic, dramatic and cinematic, my horses are sacred, thus riderless.
My horses are the dance in my art. My film is my dance. I teach dance which is invisible.
Like horses of the Prophet, they are the message of peace, not war.
What does creativity mean and what is creative energy? It means blessings that come pouring in from all around and fill you with good cheer that is returned to the source in the form on an ongoing river of beauty. This is a powerful cycle which once embarked upon remains rejuvenated like snow falling on mountains turning into timeless streams. Farasnama is a harvest of this creative energy. It is a creative spirit where medium is immaterial. Every medium is in your quest. Art is the essence of nature and your receptivity to it. Making people beautiful is the art of being beautiful. A happy world is a great world and art is its key.
Muzaffar Ali, oil on canvas, 2024, From the series ‘Farasnama, Legend of the Horse’
Every day, every week, month, year, decade, century is remembered by this enormous sense of accomplishment of the wonderful, of colour texture form in every possible medium discovered by man. A horse travels from place to place carrying its rider and discovering the world. A horse is unique and universal and he gives more than you can receive and expects the least from you for his blessings.
My journey through art has been in discovering poetry in science, and science in poetry. This happened with the artist in me sitting across the table in the Aligarh Library Canteen having tea with a poet and a scientist. They may not have met in each other but they met in me. I became the canteen and the library in the same breath.
My early works were oils inspired by geological forms and sections. The hidden and the revealed. The mysterious and the mystical, these metaphysical formulations were the early dawning of my art. My milieus changed and so did the aura of their nostalgia. From Lucknow to Kotwara to Nainital to Aligarh to Calcutta to Delhi to Bombay stood my nostalgic milestones, all related to the form and formlessness of art. I have seen art and known artists and measured my own art in their context.
Zooni Portrait by Muzaffar Ali, oil on canvas, 2023. From the series ‘Farasnama, Legend of the Horse’.
My art became my most important way into colour and texture. Cities, streets, homes, trees, arches, oceans, lakes, rivers, skyscrapers,
bridges and light pouring in, automobiles and timeless horses. Everything became my way to art.
Farasnama is my latest series of art. My love for those who have no voice. Pure form, and energy that makes you feel timeless, ageless, and speechless.
Muzaffar Ali is an artist, filmmaker, fashion designer and poet.
The Farasnama exhibition is on at Bikaner House, New Delhi, till October 28, 2024.
The increasing chasm between past success and a future with the pressure of replicating the same level of fame can lead to tragedies like Payne’s death.
Liam Payne is four years too late to be a member of the ’27 Club’ – the list of unfortunate, legendary musicians whose lives met an abrupt end at the age of 27 and who have now attained cult status.
Payne, a former member of the boy band One Direction, died at the age of 31, falling from the balcony of his hotel in Argentina’s Buenos Aires, reportedly under the influence of drugs.
And yet, Payne was a member of one of the most successful musical acts in the world. One Direction is undoubtedly the biggest such group of the late 2000s, carrying on the mantle from Backstreet Boys and NSYNC who owned the 90s.
After a few years of meteoric rise, One Direction met a predictable end destined for most bands in the genre – it went on hiatus, with all the members deciding to pursue solo careers.
While Payne did taste some success as a solo artist with singles such as ‘Strip that Down’, his most popular songs remain those produced during his time with One Direction, when he also wrote many of the hit numbers of the group.
To this date, Harry Styles – Styles won the Grammy for his solo album Harry’s House last year – remains the biggest star to come out from One Direction. The group had five young singers – Liam Payne, Niall Horan, Styles, Zayn Malik and Louis Tomlinson. It was formed during the 2010 edition of the The X Factor and taken to the pinnacle of success by Simon Cowell’s record label – Cowell had previously promoted other boy bands such as Westlife – Syco Records.
The One Direction band, of which Liam Payne was a part. Photo: X.
Each member of One Direction had a massive following among millennials and Gen Zs alike.
The downside of One Direction members tasting fame at a young age – late teenage years in the case of Payne – was that they, much like members of other boy bands, were often caged in an artfully-crafted persona which was created for them by image consultants and marketing pundits to ensure that the band appeals to its core audience of teenagers and fans in their early twenties.
Eight years since One Direction went into indefinite hiatus in 2016, barring a few such as Styles, most of the band members are still remembered best for songs such as ‘Best Song Ever’ or ‘What Makes You Beautiful’, even long after the members have become men in their thirties, navigating relationships, kids and exasperation while parrying questions about a reunion.
Be it in Payne’s single ‘Strip that Down’ or Malik’s ‘I Don’t Wanna Live Forever’, in the songs they made after exiting the band, one could sense a restless urge to shake off their image as integral cogs in a boy band and reinvent themselves.
In comparison, singers such as Ed Sheeran, who wrote a number of songs performed by One Direction have become only more popular.
The dark side of success, especially in the context of boy bands, has many precedents. In the movie Music and Lyrics, actor Hugh Grant played Alex Fletcher, a former member of a once-successful band, who is left adrift after his bandmate becomes a huge star.
Unable to keep up with the cutthroat competition in the music industry, Fletcher is relegated to obscurity, becoming a caricature of his former self, now playing at small concerts and birthday parties for people in their late thirties, who were once the diehard teen fans of his band.
The former members of One Direction remain huge stars who gain from the advantage of being one of the first music groups to tap the power of social media in the 2010s.
But separated from the band, former members such as Payne had the constant burden of staying relevant in an age where new, younger stars had taken their place in the teen awards or the top of the charts.
This is not new. George Michael, one of the two members of the 80s musical duo Wham, went on to chart a massively successful solo career, becoming one the best-selling musicians of all time. While Michael mesmerised crowds with his duet with Elton John, ‘Don’t Let The Sun Go Down On Me’, the sun did go down on the career of his Wham bandmate Andrew Ridgeley, who, after a forgettable solo album, slipped into oblivion.
After NSYNC broke up and Justin Timberlake went on to become a big pop star, the other members of the band would be restricted to occasional cameos in Timberlake’s concerts, failing to do away with the boy band tag and reinvent themselves in their forties.
In the days preceding his death, a grim picture had emerged about a problematic side of Payne’s personality. Payne’s ex-fiancée Maya Henry had accused him of manipulative behaviour, and coercion. She had sent Payne a cease-and-desist notice recently. Henry also accused Payne of “weaponising” One Direction fans against her.
The increasing chasm between past success and a future with the pressure of replicating the same level of fame can lead to tragedies such as the passing away of Payne, whose death reminds us “just how fast the night changes for boy bands.”
