RIYADH, 15 January 2008 — Some things make such deep and lasting impressions on you that they stay with you forever. Such was the case with Abdul Mohammad Ismail, better known as Gulgee, the famous Pakistani painter, and his lovely wife Zareen (Zaro). Dec. 19 was a sad day when I learned of their brutal murders. It is hard to comprehend the pointless deaths of Gulgee and his wonderful, charming and supportive wife who were apparently tortured and then killed. Gulgee was a giant among men. You would not expect one so petite and almost frail to be so full of life, brimming with energy, vibrant, and indefatigable, with a passion so great that it almost frightened you.
By education, profession and training he was an engineer and recognized and acclaimed by his peers and colleagues. But his true calling was the arts and painting. Some would say that he was born holding a palette and a brush. Critics and artists have recognized his talents and his genius. He started out by painting portraits — and how evocative, realistic and expressive they were.
Gulgee’s style and work evolved into calligraphy and then what is called “Action Painting,” a form of free expression and a transfer to canvas of one’s mood, thoughts, feelings and the moment. In “Action Painting,” the canvas accepts and embraces the person who is creating the work. It accepts paint, sand, stones, foil, paper, metal, sticks, cloth and, in some cases, even cigarette stubs — becoming a true multimedia presentation.
Gulgee was an example of such an artist. Sometime he used a brush dipped in two or more colors or held two brushes at the same time to create an effect that was striking. At one time he indulged in a new art form not attempted by many; it was not only unique but a painstaking act. He lovingly and carefully used lapis lazuli to create portraits. The lifeless blue semi-precious stone became a living portrait.
It was this work that first introduced me to Gulgee. I was living in Riyadh at that time in early 1980s. My wife, Sabiha, and I discovered that there was a joint exhibition by Gulgee and a Pakistani jeweler, Hasan Javeri. We went early and saw a frail looking man bent over what we then thought were a slab and some loose pieces of stone. We were intrigued, peeped in and saw Gulgee. We asked if we could come in and watch and he agreed.
He was totally engrossed and focused on what he was doing: Trying to complete a portrait using lapis lazuli. He was so methodical, almost surgical and handled each piece with great care. We were thoroughly engrossed and amazed at how with pieces of lifeless stones he could conjure — as if by magic — a portrait which was full of life, emotive and almost jumped out at you.
It was pure genius. It was later that we saw many examples of this work. We invited him to our house and in spite of his commitments and busy schedule, he accepted.
We had an opportunity to get to know him and understand the many aspects of the multifaceted and talented man over a period of time. He spoke of his great love for his wife, Zaro, and asked us to accompany him to shop for French chiffon saris, which he would then hand paint before giving them to her.
Gulgee was not just a great artist, but as we found out over a period of time, he was a wonderful human being. He was full of life, vibrant with passion for whatever he did. When he was with friends, he was gracious and talked freely, punctuating his discourse with anecdotes and energy. He had a phenomenal memory and a wealth of stories and tales to share — and he relived them as he told them.
He had a wonderful relationship with his lovely wife. The couple doted on — and lived for — each other. Zaro was totally dedicated to allowing Gulgee to focus on his work. They shared everything. They were fond of dining out and appreciated good food. They would go out and eat at simple places or in five-star restaurants.
The last two times I met him was in Karachi. He had been sick and had difficulty in walking, even with a cane. But he was as welcoming and full of life as ever. We had friends with us who were meeting Gulgee and his work for the first time.
He showed us around, making comments about each painting. The last time was when we and our eldest son, Samir, were on a short visit to Karachi. We turned up unannounced at his home/gallery. He called us in and again spent time with us and showered us with kindness and hospitality. Unfortunately, Zaro was out so we did not see her.
Those were the last times I saw Gulgee. But to us they will always live in our memories and thoughts and through Gulgee’s marvelous work. May Allah bless them both.
