Faiza Butt
Photo courtesy of Faiza Butt.
As Pakistan gets ready to participate in the Venice Biennale for only the second time, Eos speaks with Faiza Butt, the artist representing Pakistan at the exhibition.
I'd first heard of Faiza Butt when the novelist H.M. Naqvi had told me that her artwork was being used on the cover of his rollicking debut novel Home Boy (2009). The HarperCollins India edition of that book boasted a striking image that showcased Faiza’s now signature style, which sees her put her own distinctive spin on the painstaking Indo-Persian par dokht [pointillism] miniature technique.
Fast-forward 16 years, Faiza is now set to represent Pakistan at the 61st Venice Biennale (VB), arguably the most prestigious and influential event on the global contemporary art calendar, which kicks off on May 9 this year. Titled ‘Punj •AB — A Sublime Terrain’, this year’s Pakistan Pavilion, curated by Beatriz Cifuentes Feliciano, marks only the second time the country has participated in the VB. Hence, the expectations and anticipation are, naturally, quite high.
There is a particular kind of pressure that descends upon an artist when the work stops being entirely ‘their own.’ “Artists are mostly quite egocentric,” Faiza says with her characteristic candour. “They have these ideas and then they exhibit those ideas. But when given this opportunity, I felt rather overwhelmed upon realising that this is not the ‘Faiza Butt Pavilion.’ It’s the Pakistan Pavilion.”
Faiza, with the shrewdness of someone who has been attending the VB for the past 12 years, describes it as “a cultural event disguised as an art event.” In fact, she is no stranger to having her works displayed in Venice. But staging a pavilion at the VB is a different beast altogether. It is, as she puts it, the “Olympics of the art world.”
Nations arrive at the VB not only to showcase artistic excellence but to signal national identity and relevance. For countries such as Pakistan, participation itself is fraught with logistical, financial and bureaucratic challenges — which would explain why this is only Pakistan’s second time participating. “It’s a very expensive endeavour,” Faiza explains, noting the layers of institutional validation and funding required before an artist is even selected.
But the greater challenge, for her, is conceptual. The risk of turning a national pavilion into a “vanity show” is something she has consciously resisted. Instead, Faiza has approached the pavilion as both a responsibility and an opportunity to create something that speaks to the world but also returns inwards.