Interview – Shiraz Husain

Interview - Shiraz Husain

Shiraz Husain

Shiraz Husain is a visual artist and the founder of Khwaab Tanha Collective, which fuses literature and graphic design to make a statement. He has designed over one hundred book covers and has worked with Oxford University Press, Harper Collins, Hachette, Routledge Publishing, National Book Trust, Rajkamal Prakashan, National Council for Promotion of the Urdu Language, and Urdu Academy of New Delhi. He has exhibited his work in India, Turkey, the UK, and the UAE. Shiraz’s list of awards includes a children’s literature award from Room to Read for the book Lunar Soil and the Oxford Cover Prize for Brilliance in Book Design for Paaji Nazmein by Gulzar at the Jaipur Literature Festival.

His family originally comes from Naubat Khana and Mullano in Amroha and now resides in New Delhi.

1. Being a multidisciplinary artist, how do you approach different art forms?

During my school years, I began to learn about pop music and acoustic guitars in addition to writing stories and poems (doggerel of sorts) and creating pictures. My parents provided the space to experiment and experience without placing limits on what they felt I should and shouldn’t do. I continued trying and working with different art forms through to adulthood. 

This has enriched my current way of working to this day. Now, when exercising my expertise as a graphic designer, I work with the courage of a painter. When I am in front of a canvas, the harmony of colours is not too dissimilar to my understanding of sounds, rhythm and music. 

The design principles are not very different when applied across multiple disciplines. For example, if I am writing a story or composing music, then repetition, harmony, unity, gradation and contrast are important aspects which all come together and cannot be ignored.

2. Are there times when you create something from scratch using only software?

My college and university education were primarily grounded in manual and physical art. I recall using analogue cameras to capture images, developing them in a dark room and even completing social and product campaigns by hand. 

We cannot ignore that it is 2024, and there is something to be said about the versatility and possibilities of using software to create digital art, which I have also used extensively. 

Nevertheless, despite the demands and role of digital techniques, I very much like to work with my hands and re-model art during the post-production process.

3. What would be the percentage of commissioned works vis a vis vs own creative pursuit in your portfolio?

It isn’t easy to ascertain the boundary of both works in each percentage. Whether work is commissioned or uncommissioned, it remains part of your portfolio, practice and evolution as an artist. 

Through commissioned works, I have come across wonderful clients, mainly from the publishing industries, where works include book covers and illustrations. I recall doing a cover for Gulzar’s Paaji Nazmein.  The publisher provided a deadline of a single night, which I met. The following morning, the publisher informed me that Gulzar had approved and instructed me to proceed with the cover. The same cover later won the Best Book Cover award at the Jaipur Literature Festival. The point was that things worked out despite a tight deadline because I was familiar with his work and aesthetics. Understanding the subject, being familiar with the author’s style, and the frameworks under which the publishing house works are all part of developing not only the work but also creating that portfolio of the artist. 

Research is, therefore, an important element of my work. Similarly, there is something to be said about the instructions and brief I am given, which ideally also has to hit a threshold with which I can work. 

I have encountered various clients, authors, and editors who are either ambivalent or without any notions about their requirements. Sometimes, a conversation can flow as, “I want something different, something like this…do you know what I mean?” And my answer usually follows with, “No, I do not know, Sir/Ma’am. Would you please give some further details so we can work together to create something that speaks to you?”

We cannot take apart the dynamic of power and authority, which is always a subtext in any project. Unfortunately, when you are faced with the final decision-making authority, a project is likely to become dissatisfying at best or a failure at worst.  

There have been times when excellent ideas have succumbed to death because of the combination of hierarchical behaviour at the intersections of limited understanding of the creative process and limited exposure.  

My online commercial portfolio, therefore, has works that I like and have fondness for because I have spent the time forming a relationship with the project from its conception to execution. This comes only through the investment of time, background reading, and co-developing art.

4. You are also running an organisation. What has been your experience of working with other creative people?

Khwaab Tanha Collective has been the home for poster art, which I create solely and have creative control from conception to post-production. I have always, however, kept an open mind to suggestions from a close circle of people.

The Collective is widely known for poster art. However, the scope and depth of the work is much more profound. I collaborate regularly with people and organisations from various walks of life, including writers, artists, actors, musicians, and even individuals from public and philanthropic associations.

The internet is a weird and wonderful feat of society, where one can connect, produce work and grow in all dimensions. Examples of my work include the one-minute videos at Khwaab Tanha, such as an animation with Hollywood actor Riz Ahmed on his Toba Tek Singh song, Ali Fazal’s recitation of Bashir Badar’s ghazal over Baan G of Dastaan Live Band’s bases, Ghalib’s ghazal through Meyan Chang’s beautiful vocals and my visuals from Ghalib’s mazar in Nizamuddin.

Despite working in proximity with friends and artists from the creative community, there are often logistical challenges such as availability and synchronicity of time. 

I am working on a nano series, Dono Dono (poetry in our daily life), with Ajeet Singh and Ipshita Palawat, both of whom are theatre practitioners and Bollywood actors. I particularly enjoy working with them, given their natural and quick reciprocation of the brief. There is something about flexibility, which is an additional dimension required to work effectively. It sometimes relies on experimenting or doing things we may not have done previously to make artistic co-creation possible. For example, Sameer Rahat, a young musician, kindly agreed to have his song shortened and adapted to fit the video for an episode of one of the Nano series. I am working on one of his Urdu Blues, Ghazal of Jaun Elia, and similarly, for the work to be co-created in a manner we both envision, my work will require the same adaptability and flexibility. 

Returning to your question about experiences of working with other individuals, mine have generally been mutually satisfactory and enriching, which has been possible not only because of the underlying hard work we all put in but also the respect and admiration we have for each other’s work and craft.

5. AI has the potential to learn and emulate an artist, automating the creative process. Do you worry?

Yes. I sometimes worry; however, the worry is not about my work as a creative. The concern is about the concept of art, its execution and how it comes to be. I have seen in recent times that clients are not hesitant to make their book covers, logos and other miscellaneous works, which is positive regarding their engagement with their projects. However, of late, I have seen artificial intelligence depict works of a notorious painting of one painter in the style of another, for example, how the Mona Lisa would look if painted by Van Gogh, Modigliani, Picasso, et cetera. Such AI-created images are visually unappealing and disregard the nuance of a specific artist’s style and creation. 

As far as painting is concerned, I remain optimistic. While one can copy the visual, there is also the element of physically engaging with the paint, brush, and canvas. It offers more, be it to the individual who is producing the imitation. 

AI retains the potential to be important and, to some degree, revolutionary. However, there needs to be an ethical balance where the growth of our children’s intellect and imagination is not crippled by AI whilst we all remain aloof and constantly consumed by our phones.

6. What has been your most satisfying art project?

Satisfaction is a very broad term, and often, many components contribute to and lead to the feeling. This can include either the completion of a specific project or the nuances of the artistic process in an incomplete project. One can also find satisfaction in how the work continues to engage in a dialogue and bring together a community I might never meet in my lifetime, but my job does. However, two specific projects come to my mind when I think about satisfaction.
 
The first is somewhat of a personal one, which often makes me consider the balance and cross-link of being satisfied or dissatisfied. I frequently share stories of artists and their works and converse about art history with my mother, and sometimes, she brings forward any exciting anecdotes or questions to me. I have one memory of a lazy afternoon in 2021. During that time, we were beginning to emerge from the pandemic, and the world around me was returning to a sense of normality. My mother had come to learn about Whistler’s Mother and, after some time, asked me to paint her portrait. Executing a face from a model has always been a particular strength in my repertoire, so I felt confident. After some quick successions of brush strokes, she appeared on my canvas. As I moved through, however, I found there to be more to her eyes and hands than just a resemblance on a canvas. I left the portrait midway, but my mother was very happy and excited to see the portrait and cherished it as it was. To this day, I remain dissatisfied but satisfied with the result, and I often think to myself, no wonder the painting of Whistler’s mother is a profile.
 
I am often reminded and think about art as a social cause, which makes me look at the concept of “satisfaction” from a very social and community-building perspective. Often, the work we do stems from the wounds found in society and the dissatisfaction we have with situations, and this is where the second project comes to mind when considering satisfaction.
 
As we read about the Hathras victim in Gujarat, I found myself making a poster as I processed everything I read and heard. I came to find out later that the poster travelled around one thousand villages in Gujarat and neighbouring states as a means for people to pay respect, remember, and be able to apply haldi tilak.
 
This entire movement reminds me of how our work goes beyond the artist and becomes central in not only bringing communities together but also unifying voices. So, this project is close to my heart in another way, and it has brought satisfaction and hope to the work we do as creatives.
 

7. Do you have a dream project?

There are three: At least one poster in every Indian language, poetry posters in Braille, and a graphic novel on the adventures of literary Icons.

8. Does Amroha speak to you as Jaun Elia?

Be it the tightly wound muhalla alleys, Bah ka Kuan or the mango orchards; I often find myself gazing at Amroha through the small windows of the memories I associate with the city.  The memory and presence of Jaun Elia’s poetry, however, remains the clearest memory.
 
I regularly listen to Elia; his accent always takes me to Amroha and my associated memories. Whether that has been my daily existence in Delhi, my frequent visits to Bombay or even the trips further afield like London or Dubai, I have listened to him and likened his style of reading poetry to the sound of my homeland.
 
I have worked on some of Jaun Elia’s poetry, and the project included visuals of his home and some parts of Amroha, such as the railway station and the Ban River’s well. Elia often referenced the river in his poetry. So, looking at his works and his life, I think one can firmly conclude that taking Jaun Elia away from Amroha or Amroha away from Jaun Elia is a somewhat difficult, rather impossible ambition.
 
It is also difficult to answer this question without delving into some of my history woven around Amroha. My grandfather’s school, Markaz-e-Taleem, was in Amroha. I recall it had a big black java tree home to hundreds of birds. My father spent his childhood in Naubat Khana and often relayed stories of growing up in the city. In my formative years, I first heard Persian couplets from my maternal grandfather in Mullano, woke up to the sound of my uncle reciting The Holy Quran, spent time learning fay ki boli and often, falling asleep to the fading sounds of a dove. All in Amroha. So one can argue that it is not a matter of simply having memories of growing up in Amroha, but rather, the language of Amroha is embedded and layered into my person.
 
Times have changed, and one cannot immediately exchange words with any dar-o-deewar. I do not necessarily consider myself an old man, but I have sensed a drastic change in our times and cities in the last two decades. Granted, change is a constant reality in our lives, but nostalgia and melancholy greet me whenever I visit Amroha and witness the change.
 
And so, I will leave you at this sher of Jaun Elia as a completion to this question’s answer:
 
“Humnay jaana toh humnay yeh jaana
Jo nahin hai woh khoobsurat hai”

Shiraz Husain in conversation with Inam Abidi Amrohvi. (October 3rd, 2024)