two men standing together wearing black
two men standing together wearing black

The conversation between Durjoy Rahman and Sam Dalrymple took place over Zoom. We have used artistic licence to create the photo montage above

In the third of our series of online dialogues, Sam Dalrymple, Activist and Co-Founder of Project Dastaan, speaks with philanthropist Durjoy Rahman about cultural reconnections post-partition, the importance of multi-cultural artists across borders, and the rapid shift in popularity away from the West and towards the East. With an introduction and moderation by Darius Sanai and created in association with the Durjoy Bangladesh Foundation.
Raghu Rai is a Magnum Photographer who chronicled the Independence war of Bangladesh in 1971 when the territory that was East Pakistan gained independence from what is now Pakistan. The Indian army ultimately came to the aid of Bangladesh after an enormous refugee crisis ensued. We present a selection of his works within this article

LUX: Sam, could you tell us firstly what sparked your interest in Partition and inspired you to create the ground-breaking ‘Project Dastaan’?

Sam Dalrymple: Project Dastaan began when my friends Sparsh, Ameenah and Saadia were at University chatting about the fact that everyone’s grandparents had migrated from somewhere in the Sub-Continent, and how bizarre it was that in the UK you could have the easiest conversations about this.

Follow LUX on Instagram: luxthemagazine

When you are in India, it is difficult to chat to a Pakistani, when you’re in Pakistan it’s difficult to chat to a Bangladeshi as these walls have been built up in the Sub-Continent, so that it is actually in the former colonial power where it is easiest to talk.

There were conversations about how Sparsh’s grandfather had migrated from near Islamabad, in Pakistan, and here was Saadia who was from near there and could easily go and take pictures of his old house or temple which had been impossible for Sparsh’s family for 75 years. They had no pictures of it, no idea where they were from. The ease from a London standpoint to re-connect triggered the whole thing.

A man standing next to a monkey which is sitting on a wall in the street

Ayodhya, india 1993

The partition that is the cause of this fragmentation in India was, simply put, the largest forced migration in human history. In the course of a year what had been British India, was divided into two territories, which is now three – India and Pakistan, which later became Pakistan and Bangladesh. This was 75 years ago and for most of that time, most of the migrated people have never been able to see their homes again.

So it began as an attempt to use virtual reality to re-connect Partition survivors across borders, so if you came from Lahore and had migrated to Delhi, we would go out and find your old Mosque, your old school, your old house and, if we can, find any friends who you knew before 1947.

Crowds of people walking in a town

Chawri Bazar, old Delhi, India, 1972

We additionally wanted to translate some of these stories that we were hearing, into animations with a cross-border, collaborative studio in Bangalore and Lahore, which was in itself an attempt at cross-border with team members scattered from Bengal to Punjab. Then, we finally made a film called ‘Child of Empire’, which just premiered at Sundance. It is a VR mini-movie, a 15-minute animated journey through the Partition based on Sparsh’s grandfather’s story and another man who did the opposite journey. It is about these two men 75 years later chatting to one another and the therapeutic discussion of their two journeys which mirror each other in so many ways but, obviously, have been polarised so much over time.

LUX: In the context of Partition, what does Partition and its consequences mean to you Durjoy?

Durjoy Rahman: I come from a generation where it was my parents who had seen the displacement, twice. They were born during this time and have seen the consequences and the aftermath of partitions first hand. I grew up hearing everything that happened in 1947, the riots and so on. So between me and my parents we have seen the largest displacement in the history of these civilisations that happened in this region. These experiences have influenced me to do activities surrounding Durjoy Bangladesh Foundation heavily.

Mother Teresa putting her hands to her mouth in prayer

Mother Teresa at her refuge of the Missionaries of Charity in Calcutta, during prayer, India, 1979

LUX: Do people have a strong sense of national identity currently? Would you say that this is down to cultural or religious differences?

SD: It is many differences and culture definitely plays into it. I think the memories of both ’47 and ’71 play into how people remember their pasts, but it is also a generational factor. The national identities are harder for the younger generation who never knew the other side of the border, whereas for a lot of people who migrated at the time nationalism was firing up these independence movements.

Art definitely plays into how we create a nation, with national anthems and the flag which of course crystalise these ideas of nationhood. What we’re seeing now is the crystallising of losing the generation who knew undivided India as undivided.

Some children sitting amongst ruins in a city

Imambara, Lucknow, India, 1990

DR: Nationality has always been an important element in the subcontinent. We always talk about India and Pakistan, but I would also include Sri Lanka, Nepal and Bhutan in this context. Everyone holds their own nationalistic value to identify themselves and where they are from. But culture and religion, these two determined factors were also a factor when the British divided the subcontinent with the Muslims in Pakistan and left India where it was. A lot of people said ‘well, religiously you are all the same’ but religion is not the only deciding factor. We were culturally different so that was also important.

We are Bengali as Sam just said – we were never Pakistani, maybe we were all Muslims, but we were culturally different. So culture is a very important factor in defining borders and nationality. How you possess your cultural identity, this is what I believe defines you, and no matter how younger generations perceive themselves as a global citizen with a global identity, the identity borders will remain in our lifetime.

A woman sitting on a floor in a striped tent

Indira Gandhi at a Congress session, Delhi 1967

LUX: Sam, Project Dastaan is ultimately a unifying project taking people virtually across borders. How has it been received among the people you deal with?

SD: It has touched people because it was something they thought was impossible, to see their old homes. The key thing has been not trying to look at the big and complex questions of Partition – We’re trying to show conflict through the eyes of an 8-year-old child. The generation that is still alive were mostly 12 or younger 75 years ago. We’re trying to show it through the eyes of the generation who’s still around. One of the things they would want to see is their old playground, their old houses, and the things that everyone can relate to. I think addressing the conflict and the great divide through these memories and nostalgia can be very healing.

A man with his head leaning outside the window of a train

Darjeeling Himalayan Railway (the Toy train), India, 1995

LUX: Durjoy, you wish to promote the art of people who may not have had a voice, without borders. How does that relate to the very definite borders in Pakistan, Bangladesh and India?

DR: Since DBF was established in 2018, our projects have been based on the concept of art without borders. We never considered ourselves a foundation that had originated from Bangladesh. We started working with creative personalities regardless of whether they were visual artists, musicians, literature backgrounds, performance artists and we did not consider which region they are from. We have always identified if their practice relates to the mandates that we are trying to highlight; displacement, disadvantage, ethnicity, some kind of challenge which probably obstructs their creative development. So, art without borders was our primary goal.

A woman pushing a heavy cart on a road

Woman pushing cart Delhi 1979

LUX: Sam, with Project Dastaan, what will make you feel like you have achieved your aim, what will you be doing in 5 years, 10 years?

SD: Who knows, is the answer! The big thing we’ve been working on is this particular year as it’s the 75th anniversary, and I think the aim has always been to raise awareness about what happened – the aim has always been to try and get people to record these stories, because they are disappearing rapidly. The foundation of our project has been oral history, and the contemporaneous generation is rapidly disappearing. I think we also have a particular aim within Britain, to get Britain aware of its role in the events.

LUX: Regarding artists and the film-making that you employ, was that something that you had conceived from the start that is not just a means of storytelling, but something that you want to focus on and encourage?

SD: With Project Dastaan, the aim has always been cross-border collaboration. For our animation teams, one of our animators had a family who fought in 71, another family was part of the trading diaspora across the Bay of Bengal. I think one of the interesting things is, and I’m not sure how deliberate it was, but the types of animators and the team we built around ourselves, seems to have brought in people whose stories kind of corroborate the stories we are telling.

People working in a field holding baskets on their heads

Hand building highway – Hydrabad, India, 2004

LUX: Durjoy, with regard to the next generation that you’re supporting in terms of art and culture, do you feel that there’s a role for creative practitioners to break down these borders?

DR: I would say that I am not only very hopeful, but I am very optimistic. In this post-covid scenario, in this globalised atmosphere, I personally believe that we were in the right moment where we could take the entire South Asian art movement to the next level. Now the West has started looking at the East. Of course, our foundation and activities focus on promoting artists from South Asia, but we have seen a massive global increase in interest for South Asian artists. I also believe that these artists will take great advantage from the rising virtual scene within the context of the more active online and digital art scene within the past two years.

SD: I think what you said then is exactly right. One of the most interesting pieces that I’ve read recently was by Fatima Bhutto in her book ‘New Kings of the World’, which talks about the shift in the past 20 years. The biggest film industry is Bollywood, the biggest TV industry is Turkey now and the biggest music industry is now South Korea K-Pop. I think there is a lot of hope and a lot of growth in the artistic sphere here. I don’t think that will necessarily mean the borders themselves disappear; I don’t think that’s going to happen. I think there’s going to be more collaboration, more interesting art pieces and more embracing of technology for it.

People moving in a station and a man reading a newspaper in the middle

Local commuters at Church Gate railway station. Mumbai, 1995

DR: Would you ever choose another region as your beaming point, other than India?

SD: I think the idea of virtual reconnections is something that you can use in an array of different countries, but we are so focused on areas affected by the Partition as that is where the personal connections of the team lie and a very specific area of interest where we can enact real memory connecting change. What’s unusual is that these countries are so close in so many ways, it’s just that trauma etc has left them severed from one another It’s a bizarre, specific situation that neither of them have ability for tourist visas, there’s no tourist visas for India and Pakistan, you can’t just visit, you have to have a reason and government approval.

Read more: Rana Begum and Durjoy Rahman on South Asian art’s global ascendancy

LUX: Possibly controversial, but I would love to hear from you both, what do you consider needs to happen for conceptions to really change around the Partition and affect the vast majority of the population?

DR: We have to perform what we believe and have to do what is good for the community, what is good for the region, despite what the supremacy wants to establish.

SD: I don’t think there is a simple solution, but I think that creating conversations and conflict resolution is always a noble aim. I think conflict resolution and actually talking about it is where to start, without bias and actually listening.

All images © Raghu Rai

Find out more: 

durjoybangladeshfoundation.org

projectdastaan.org

 

Share:
Reading time: 10 min
three men standing together, two in navy blazers and a smaller man in the middle wearing a multicoloured scarf and grey t-shirt

Durjoy Rahman with Bose Krishnamachari, president of Kochi-Muziris Biennale, and Ralph Rugoff, director of the Hayward Gallery, at the launch for the DBF-KMB Award and Lecture Series, Venice, April 2022, photographed by Clelia Cadamuro

With the opening of the Kochi-Muziris Biennale on Monday 12th December, LUX speaks to the founders of the Durjoy Bangladesh Foundation/Kochi-Muziris Biennale Award, which has been created in collaboration with the Hayward Gallery, London.

The inaugural recipient of the multi-year award will be chosen shortly after the opening of the fifth Kochi-Muziris Biennale, held in Kochi, Kerala, India, in December 2022. Aligning with Rahman’s ethos, the award will be bestowed based on merit to an emerging South Asian artist participating in the Biennale.

framed items on coloured canvases hung up on a wall

Spring Song, 2016 ongoing, by Munem Wasif

“Recipients will have their first UK solo exhibition at the Hayward Gallery’s HENI Project Space in the Southbank Centre. Such an honour will no doubt transform the trajectory of their careers,” says a clearly pleased Rahman. “Seeing a South Asian artist, irrespective of their religion or country of origin, occupy such a prestigious space in London – the former centre of colonial Britain – is a powerful example of decolonisation, progress and tolerance.”

Follow LUX on Instagram: luxthemagazine

Speaking exclusively to LUX, Hayward Gallery director Ralph Rugoff adds his own thoughts on the initiative: “With the DBF-KMB Award, Durjoy Rahman will be expanding the impact and legacy of South Asian art by funding exhibitions of South Asian artists at London’s Hayward Gallery, introducing UK and European audiences to important new artistic voices from the region.” He adds, “By fostering cultural exchange and community-engagement programmes, the DBF plays a vital role in creating new connections and conversations between South Asian artists and the rest of the world.”

a brick wall

The Wall, 1967, by Murtaja Baseer

Fittingly, Rugoff will also be co-curating another impressive facet of the collaboration, The Durjoy Bangladesh Lecture Series, alongside the Kochi-Muziris Biennale Foundation team. Slated for 2024, 2026 and 2028, the programme promises to feature an impressive line-up of distinguished curators and artists from the Global South.

Read more: Durjoy Rahman: Making Space For Art Of The Global South

Staying true to his mission, Rahman notes that the public series will “further build the Hayward Gallery’s critical and research-driven engagement with the South Asian arts landscape.”

Untitled, 1975, by Shahabuddin Ahmed

Remembering partition is never a simple exercise. But doing so through the lens of Durjoy Rahman, via his artistic philosophy, philanthropic mission and art collection, offers a unique understanding of the subcontinent and applicable methods of decolonisation. “Rather than alienate one group or another, art should bridge our collective understanding,” says Rahman, as our time together comes to an end. “This is the moment to remember that lesson.”

Find out more: durjoybangladesh.org

This article first appeared in the Autumn/Winter 2022/23 issue of LUX

Share:
Reading time: 2 min
different colour saris on a green back ground
different colour saris on a green back ground

Whose Sari Now, 2007, by Charles Pachter

On the 75th anniversary of the end of British rule in India, LUX’s Maya Asha McDonald speaks to Durjoy Rahman, Bangladeshi philanthropist, art collector and founder of the Durjoy Bangladesh Foundation, about the legacy of colonialism and Bengali art

At midnight on 15 August 1947, British India ceased to exist. As the British Empire receded into the history books, the vast land was divided into two dominions largely along religious lines: Hindu-dominated India and Muslim-dominated Pakistan. Marred by large-scale violence and mass migration, the controversial division of the subcontinent would be known as the partition.

With 2022 marking 75 years since the end of British rule, it is a time for reflection for many in these countries, not just about politics and history, but about the art and culture of the region, traditions that stretch back millennia but are now in the same vortex of globalisation as others on the creative planet. Durjoy Rahman founded the Durjoy Bangladesh Foundation (DBF), a non-profit organisation, in 2018, with a mission to support and promote art from South Asia and beyond in a critical, international- art context. There is, he believes, a vantage point from which we can examine the past, understand the present and envision the future.

Follow LUX on Instagram: luxthemagazine

Speaking with me amid his art collection, in Dhaka, Bangladesh, Rahman says it is important to acknowledge the weight of the moment. “This is a big year for the Indian subcontinent: it’s 75 years since partition. 1947 may sound long ago, but my parents and many others retain vivid memories of that time,” he says. A seismic event, partition saw the migration of 14 million people and laid the groundwork for a second postwar revision of the subcontinent’s political cartography some years later: the creation of Rahman’s native Bangladesh, from what had been East Pakistan.

A man wearing a navy suit and white shirt standing by a window

Durjoy Rahman, founder of the Durjoy Bangladesh Foundation, whose mission is to support and promote South Asian artists in a global context

“It is important to consider that Bangladesh was born in 1971, much later than India and Pakistan,” says Rahman. “Since we were established further along in the historical timeline, Bangladesh is behind in development compared to the subcontinent’s other countries. But our rich heritage and culture, originating in Bengal, has helped us reclaim our reputation.” The historic region of Bengal, to which Rahman refers, covers present-day East Bengal in Bangladesh and the Indian state of West Bengal.

The Dhaka-based entrepreneur turned cultural activist is playing a vital role in rebuilding his country’s national voice, working diligently to elevate his homeland’s artistic titans and emerging talents. In establishing the Durjoy Bangladesh Foundation, Rahman also committed to furthering decolonisation. By incorporating his country’s name within the foundation’s title, in place of his surname, Rahman shares the DBF’s accomplishments with Bangladesh. In fact, ‘Durjoy Bangladesh’ means ‘Invincible Bangladesh’.

A cardinal tenet of the DBF’s mandate is to preserve the canon of Bangladeshi artists who flourished throughout the 20th century. “I have consciously collected works by artists who shaped the practice of modern art in Bengal,” says Rahman, whose foundation has created the first online personal-collection resource on Bengal Masters. “Murtaja Baseer, Mohammad Kibria and Safiuddin Ahmed are among those names. They have all sadly passed, but held great artistic influence before and after partition. Today, their work continues to inspire.”

A white paper sail boat on a black piece of paper

A Child’s Boat for Aylan and Ghalib, 2015, by Zarina

And so to the art collection. Pleased to share his Bengali treasures, Rahman directs my attention to Murtaja Baseer’s 1967 work, The Wall, from his series of the same name. Depicting a brick wall in the Dhaka Central Jail, the painting references the harsh realities of life in the 1960s under the dictatorship of Ayub Khan, the general who had seized the presidency in Pakistan (including East Pakistan, later Bangladesh). Composed of precise lines and balanced colours, this influential work of abstract realism is also broadly interpreted as a critical commentary on society at large.

Next, Rahman shows me two pieces by Mohammad Kibria and Safiuddin Ahmed, both created in 1980. At a glance, it is clear that Kibria and Ahmed share Baseer’s desire to visualise history. Ahmed’s copper engraving, aptly named The Cry, is a witness to the volatile period, including partition, that the artist lived through. Similarly, Kibria’s painting, Memorial, functions as precisely that, a visceral ode to the many souls lost during Bangladesh’s bloody Liberation War of 1971. In recent years, Kibria’s emotionally charged netherworlds have realised prices far above estimates at Christie’s auctions. It would seem Rahman has prophetic instincts.

Executed with a Bacon-esque flair and featuring baroque-like figures, Rahman’s masterwork by Bangladeshi artist Shahabuddin Ahmed, Untitled, 1975, is instantly one of my favourites in the collection. “His style may be slightly more European,” says Rahman, “but his subject matter is always something close to home.” With its dynamic composition, the scene emanates a kaleidoscope of emotions. Ahmed’s cosmic dancers at once invite the viewer to come closer, while alluding to the turbulence surrounding the 1975 Bangladesh coup d’état.

A woman in an Andy Warhol style picture

Herself, 1983, by Andy Warhol

To a large extent, Ahmed’s seminal work epitomises what Rahman believes art ought to be at its highest ideal. “Art should address the common man. It should not be completely detached from our daily life and society; if it is, then art won’t survive,” he expounds decisively. “That being said, creativity should be exercised with tolerance. Artists should look outside themselves and respect all peoples, regardless of race, religion or region.” Unsurprisingly, Rahman’s collection reflects his artistic philosophy.

Consequential and bewitching, Rahman’s modern works by South Asian artists offer a powerful visual chronology of the Indian subcontinent. I stare at them in awe. To my right, Nandalal Bose immortalises the struggle against British colonial rule in India with his 1936 portrait of a freedom fighter, Untitled (Khan Abdul Ghaffar Khan). Further down, Sayed Haider Raza sharply illustrates the Bangladesh Liberation War, with partition as its antecedent, in a lithograph, Untitled (Bangladesh), created around 1971. And hanging above where Rahman stands, Atul Dodiya takes on the mantle of decolonisation by reversing the Western gaze, in his 1999 diptych, German Measles: Kiefer’s Cell. And that is only to examine three artworks out of hundreds.

Two women and a baby wearing large green glasses

From the ‘Soaked Dream’ series, 2013 ongoing,
by Firoz Mahmud

Rahman has a special place in his collection for those artists of South Asian origin who left the subcontinent and settled in the West. “The legacy of partition is fundamentally linked with the concept and experience of displacement,” he explains. “This concept applies to diaspora artists, too, such as Rasheed Araeen and Zarina Hashmi, known professionally as Zarina.” Araeen is a celebrated Karachi-born conceptual artist living in London, and the late Zarina was a trailblazing Indian-American minimalist active in New York City. Both artists are in the permanent collections of Tate Modern and The Metropolitan Museum of Art.

orange and brown paintings

German Measles: Kiefer’s Cell (diptych), 1999, by Atul Dodiya

Another prominent artist from the South Asian diaspora community for whom Rahman is a patron is the rising star Firoz Mahmud. Originally hailing from Khulna, Bangladesh, Mahmud lived in Japan and now lives and works in New York City. “The DBF is always engaging with projects that deal with the topics of migration and displacement,” says Rahman. “Mahmud is an expert at tackling these issues in his multidisciplinary exhibitions.”

a child looking at a picture of an old man and behind him art on the wall

Noakhali, November 1946, 2017, by Atul Dodiya

Indeed, Mahmud’s ongoing series, ‘Soaked Dream’, begun in 2013, which features displaced minorities including the Rohingya people, has received critical acclaim and was nominated for the 2019 COAL Prize at the Centre Pompidou, Paris. The harrowing yet hopeful photo-sculpture series depicts migrant families envisioning their dreams through green sci-fi glasses, crafted with found objects from shelters and symbolising each family’s resilience and commitment to making a better life. It was photographed in Bangladesh, which has accepted more than 900,000 Rohingya refugees. Rahman says the series helps bring awareness to an issue that has largely faded from the West’s consciousness.

colourful pictures on white backgrounds stuck in rows on a wall

Untitled, 2015, by Rasheed Araeen

Several works in the collection address both Eastern and Western canons. One such piece is Atul Dodiya’s monumental 2017 collage, Noakhali, November 1946, which was shown at Art Basel 2018. As part of his series ‘Painted Photographs/Paintings Photographed’, Dodiya juxtaposes Europe’s first half of the 20th century against the same period in British India. “A dramatic shift took place, particularly in France, with artists such as Henri Matisse, Pablo Picasso and Marcel Duchamp,” Dodiya wrote of the work. “During this period, India was fighting for freedom, which resulted in Independence from British rule and ended with Gandhi’s assassination.” Feeling almost inconsequential in its presence, I would suggest that this is Rahman’s most significant artwork.

a man sitting on a cream sofa wearing a cream jacket, white trousers and a denim shirt

Portraits by Matt Holyoak

As a cosmopolitan figure, the DBF founder’s collection also contains works from the Western canon that often wink at the Global South. These include enviable acquisitions, such as Charles Pachter’s witty 2007 painting, Whose Sari Now, and Andy Warhol’s iconic 1983 screenprint of Ingrid Bergman, Herself. Both Pachter and Warhol famously travelled to India, voyages that would inform Pachter’s subject matter and influence Warhol’s affinity for using vibrant swathes of colour in his work.

Gold outline of a person on a black background

Untitled (Khan Abdul Ghaffar Khan), 1936, by Nandalal Bose

Unexpected links arise, too. Even Ingrid Bergman has a connection to the subcontinent through her one-time husband, Italian film director Roberto Rossellini. Rossellini rather publicly left the Casablanca star in 1957 and eloped with Bengali screenwriter Sonali Dasgupta, to whom he remained married until his death in 1977. Clearly, Rahman’s collection is saturated with buzzworthy creations, rich in historical and cultural intrigue.

black paint on a red canvas

Untitled (Bangladesh), c 1971, by Sayed Haider Raza

Tearing my gaze from a brightly coloured Bergman, our conversation flows away from Rahman as collector to his ever-expanding identity as an international change agent. With the continued reverberations of the partition top of mind, the philanthropist draws a straight line between the largest mass migration in human history and the DBF’s mandate.

Read more: Shezad Dawood: Out Of The Blue

As a fledgling foundation itself, Rahman believes the DBF can empathise with the South Asian struggle of trying to gain purchase on the global stage. To help others avoid the similar exclusionary effects of colonialism and partition, he says, “many DBF initiatives work to help individual South Asian artists claim recognition outside the Global South. Part of that process means taking up space, both physically and metaphorically.”

Find out more: durjoybangladesh.org

This article first appeared in the Autumn/Winter 2022/23 issue of LUX

Share:
Reading time: 9 min