For a Peaceful World

By Barbara Karkabi, "Art shows hope for peace" - Houston Chronicle - USA
Friday, January 30, 2009

Let’s get one thing straight: The Pakistani artist Jimmy Engineer is not and has never been an engineer.

But his father and grandfathers were, and it’s the custom among Zoroastrians, an ancient religion founded in Persia, to name families after their professions. He answers this very common question with patience, though it’s obvious there are other things he would rather discuss.

Standing in the middle of Houston’s Shangri-La art gallery, surrounded by 60 of his pieces, Engineer begins a wide-ranging conversation about his art, his social work in Pakistan and, above all, his hopes for peace.

That’s one of the reasons he has named his exhibit the Ideology of Peace.

“I want peace to prevail,” he said. “Whenever I show my work in Europe or the United States, it changes the mind of people when they look at it. For a moment they forget that I’m from Pakistan. They feel that I’m part of the international community, and it helps change their perception and image of my country, which is often negative.”

His work ranges from landscape and religious themes to cultural and abstract historical paintings, miniatures and pieces on war and philosophical issues.

Engineer’s latest series on architecture took eight years to complete 54 paintings; 33 are on display. All are packed with detail of what seems to be scenes from Pakistan. A closer look shows something quite different.

Pointing to one of the intricate pieces, Engineer explains: “This is India, this is Pakistan, and this is Cambodia. I try to bring countries together. If countries can come together in a painting, then people can come together.”

A painting of the elaborate tomb of a Sufi saint in shades of blue shows the original tomb multiplied in increasingly bigger versions.

“I wanted to show that the ideas and voice of Sufism is spreading,” he said.

Though his work has been shown in public places and museums in Pakistan, Europe and the U.S., this is Engineer’s first exhibit at a private gallery. It makes a him a little nervous, but he was encouraged by his Houston family, his parents, a brother and sister.

“All my life I wanted to achieve a level of excellence, it’s not about commercialism,” he said. “Then I wanted to help people through my art. I have helped people for 35 years, donating my prints and signing them so it can be used for their cause.”

He doesn’t care about the money, and there’s a reason for that. The Engineer family refers to it as “the miracle.”
When Jimmy Engineer was 6, doctors told his family that both his kidneys were failing and he had three months to live. Three months after the diagnosis, he was still alive. Doctors re-examined him and said that his kidneys appeared to be “brand new.”
Was it a misdiagnosis, or powerful prayers from his Zoroastrian family, called Parsis in India and Pakistan? His family prefers to say it was a miracle.

Now 54, Engineer believes he was given a second chance at life.
“So, I’m trying to repay God through my work, because I don’t refuse anyone if they need help,” he said. “The miracle that happened changed the level of my thinking. People normally can’t understand how I can compose all these things. But this is because my energy comes from nature.”

Sometimes he’s paid by groups who have asked to use his work. Other times he gets grants, like one in 1989 from the National Endowment for the Arts. Occasionally he will sell one of his original paintings, though they are very large and he finds it hard to let them go.

When he was 19, Engineer began painting the work that made his name in Pakistan, a historical series based on the 1947 partition of India and Pakistan. It was a time of bloodshed as Hindu refugees raced south to India and Muslims headed north to the newly created state of Pakistan.
“I had to get those paint-ings out of my system,” he said. “Everyday they used to come in my dreams — black smoke and people moving from one place to another, trains and villages on fire.”

Unable to sleep, Engineer asked a Sufi master to interpret his dreams.
“He said: ‘Maybe nature is preparing you to paint these episodes to educate the people that such things do happen, but they should not happen again.’-”

Engineer began the series in 1974 and worked furiously, 16 to 18 hours a day. The work is striking in its detail, with mostly muted colors. One shows masses of refugees resting under a tree, another a caravan under attack in what he describes as a moment of madness. A smaller work shows a group fleeing a burning village.
One of the original paintings is in the National Gallery in Islamabad, and a print of the work is displayed in Pakistan’s parliament.

These days Engineer paints four to five hours a day to leave time for his social work. Engineer began the tradition of walking for causes in Pakistan. Recently he sponsored a function for juvenile prisoners on International Human Rights Days, including sports, a magic show and food.
“I am never the honored guest,” he said. “It’s the children who are the honored guests.”
Zoroastrians, he said, are known for their charitable work and ethical beliefs.

His work, displayed and on sale Feb. 3-14, are signed, limited-edition canvas prints. Most of his original paintings are too big to transport, though he did bring the originals of the smaller architectural and poverty series.

An optimistic fellow, who soon will return to Karachi to be with his wife and daughter, Engineer hopes that people will begin talking around the coffee table.

“It’s a good option because we can’t fight endlessly when there is no result and people suffer,” he said. “We all work for a peaceful world, and I think it’s good for all of us”.