An artist of many hues, renowned filmmaker, painter, designer and cultural revivalist Muzaffar Ali sits down with Abir for a Samvaad, discussing the dynamism of art, his inspiration in Amir Khusrau, and what India really needs from the inevitable art renaissance.
As a renowned filmmaker, artist, fashion designer, poet, cultural revivalist, social worker and the Raja of Kotwara, Muzaffar Ali is a personality who dons many a fascinating hat. Be it organizing the stunning annual Sufi music festival Jahan-e-Khusrau in New Delhi for the last 20 years to commemorate the saint Amir Khusrau, directing Hindi cinematic classics like Gaman (1978) and Umrao Jaan (1981), or launching the elegant fashion label House of Kotwara with wife Meera Ali, there is one undercurrent that remains consistent — that amid all of these different facets, at the heart of this gem lies an artistic soul.
Interestingly, according to Ali, the journey of experiencing art doesn’t really ever end, and remains something of a dynamic, life-long commitment. His own relationship with art, he professes, began very early, and very organically. “Artists are, to a great extent, born with art. If not born with art, it is very difficult to relate art to different stages and experiences of your life. You have to be instinctive about it. So, without wanting to be an artist, I already was one,” he says, adding, “As a child, I used to paint, sketch, draw…. In adulthood, I moved on to Calcutta and finally began to take art more seriously, holding an exhibition of my paintings in 1986.”
Art is the quintessential link to one’s own humanity and outlook, says Ali. “Art is a very intimate way of connecting with yourself, your world and the people around you. It is a holistic experience and outlook to life. It is about being as humanly human as possible, or as artistically artistic as possible. There is no art without understanding poetry, music, or the nuances of life around you.”
But the role is not always an easy one, he also confesses. “It is a big challenge for me to be an artist — almost a threatening situation! If you are just casual about it, then it is okay, but if you are the type trying to be compared to other artists… I hate being put to the test. This is another thing about being an artist — you want to be tested and also not at the same time. To that extent, art has been a very challenging aspect of my life. But it has stayed with me and stood by me. I have always used art for certain things — in my poetic or Sufi understanding of life, and in my films. In the latter, art has been of great value, as I have looked at each frame as a painting, realistic or abstract, which has helped me in being different to other filmmakers. So that is what my journey as an artist has been, and will be.”
Essentially, art is a way of life for Ali, experienced in every possible way, and always seeking to enhance that experience. But how does he articulate or manifest his understanding of so many formats of art? “That is the challenge and the unnerving part of art — when you ask yourself questions that very often you cannot answer. It is very tough because I have been doing a lot of very different things with art that I get to show. For instance, even on stage, at a festival like Jahan-e-Khusrau, each moment for me is a painting, each sequence like a cinematic montage. As an artist, one has to think a bit fluidly, differently.”
At this point, Ali breaks into a couplet by the poet Mirza Ghalib, saying, “Bak rahā huuñ junūñ meñ kyā kyā kuchh, kuchh na samjhe ḳhudā kare koī.” Amid laughter, he explains, “I don’t always know what I am doing, but somewhere, something is making sense and should make sense. I am a little embarrassed about what I am saying and doing all the time. But something is working. I feel I am growing with whatever I am doing. I feel almost like a child, in a way.”
In a nod to that innocence, validation becomes almost a prize from the artist’s point of view. Says Ali, “I get a lot of my inspiration from people. If I don’t work with people, there is no art. Art is essentially working with craftsmen, carpenters, painters — the whole human aspect of art is really the most challenging one. In that sense, for me, human opinion is also very important. I have to keep getting reassured by human opinion about what I am trying to do. That is interesting because it keeps me connected with human beings, with colour, form and texture. At least I am relating to people through people all the time and working for people all the time.”
Duties towards people are no stranger to the Raja of Kotwara. For this constituency, he and wife Meera also began the project Dwar Pe Rozi to empower local women with employment at their doorstep, some via craft and work for their fashion label. But besides the very public life he was born into, there is also an Ali who enjoys solitude, learns about natural dyes, and collected leaves and feathers on long walks. How does he balance the versions of himself? “To be anything, you have to be a combination of anguish, concern and joy. The joy of living and anguish go hand in hand, and all art is born out of this combination. My films were borne out of that anguish — of why people leave villages and go to big cities, and other issues that I have chanced upon. For instance, in Umrao Jaan, it is also all about a helpless child in a callous society. There is nothing more touching that human helplessness.”
Elaborating on his stint in cinema, Ali adds, “Women have also played a very inspiring role in my films. Even if you take someone like Khusrau, there is a feminine beauty of perspective in his work. For me, painting is another way of feeling that feminine sensitivity of looking at the world in a different way. The beauty of India is in the way a woman looks at the country, and this is also what gives the culture a certain kind of vibrancy. When you don’t see from a woman’s point of view, you find a culture hardening, and this is a very dangerous thing. Even if you take Maryada Purushottam Ram, and don’t see him through the eyes of Sita… you have somewhere lost the plot.”
The mention of Khusrau’s vision folds out into a fond, lingering note. “The festival (referring to Jahan-e-Khusrau) has been a landmark for me. I have seen so many things in life, but the whole spiritual journey of discovering a character like Amir Khusrau — he could be a subject for a painting, a film. The enormity of his thought process and how he connects with a lot of other similar thought processes of his time and beyond and even how contemporary people have been inspired by him, or how to make this kind of expression on stage — it has been a huge challenge for me. And, over 20 years, I don’t even know how to define how I have grown into this idea. Defining that will be another artistic process! Via Jahan-e-Khusrau, music and words have given me strength to visualize. In two decades, myriad different voices have come from all over the world with different instruments. We have seen music and poetry come together, how music dictates poetry, how poetry dictates music, and so on. These are things one has learnt from the likes of Khusrau, and I hope I can be more articulate about it, so that people can understand a little more about Khusrau and what he has done for art. Because at the end of the day, all art is connected. There is no such thing as one art leaving the other behind or moving beyond the realm of another art. That is another challenge — to be able to keep abreast of all the arts that are somehow touching you.”
At the same time, reconciling the ephemeral impact of some forms of art with others, Ali says, “All design is created for a kinetic role in life and society. There is no design seen from a frozen dimension. You see design moving as a manifestation of dynamics and it is not a static thing. Designed objects are meant to be experienced in a tactile, physical, humanly friendly way. Cultures that have gone through a renaissance even take design into yet another zone — economic evolution.”
According to Ali, India could well be in the middle of an art renaissance. “A certain sensitivity in human beings has to be re-inculcated today. We have lost the plot, which we now have to recreate. And this can only be done out of an open, fluid mind, which is open to ideas, influences, markets, world needs. People run off to foreign lands and settle, think they are getting freedom, this and that — but the challenge is on our soil. We have to dig into our soil and create beauty, and unless we do that, we are losing the plot. In India, we have been treated as I would say consumers, not creators. We have to now rise above from the position of consumers to being creators. Creators are global entities — there is no such creation as only meant for your household or your rasoi. It is meant for a bigger consumption, for a bigger global presence. But for some reason, we have been left behind. We are looked at as a big market that continues to be one. But we have to create the markets and set an agenda for creativity, and tell the world that we are setting the norms, you are not setting them for us.”
For this, Ali agrees, the energy of young artists must indeed be harnessed. As an esteemed jury member for Abir India in recent years, he has also witnessed a lot of young artists’ work and believes they are stepping into an era full of potential. “Today, the digital era means everything. You can show how art is being made and there are so many different ways of experiencing art now. There is this new cryptocurrency which is going to change the face of art and all kinds of things are going to happen.
But there are two things to focus on. A sense of freedom that is required for artists is very important, and in India we need it. It is a sense of freedom of spirit, of the soul, and of reaching out to big markets. That is something which a lot of young people in this whole digital mindset can discover for themselves — how to reach out. Even galleries cannot help them with this, and they have to do it themselves. We have to look at art as a freedom struggle — the first serious, intellectual, artistic freedom struggle being faced, and we are going to need several Gandhijis. We need several people to relay the path, and do the crucial mapping of art again. Besides the intensity of feeling, mapping is very much required and young people need to do it themselves, with spaces like Abir helping them along.”
Ali sums up, “Art is going to witness a sea change. In the last year or so (post-Covid), people have had more time than ever before. So, a lot of art has gone through their head and come out of their fingers, and this is all bound to create that new, highly needed renaissance, which art needs in this country.”