Internal — working group only · Artist profile and commissioning research · Third revision
A profile of the Karachi draughtsman Tanweer Farooqi, an assessment of fourteen works supplied by the artist, and a set of recommendations for a ten-work commission in pen and ink — what the drawings prove, what they warn against, and which of three proposed themes the evidence actually supports.
Fourteen photographs of Farooqi's work have now been examined. They settle several questions that earlier research could only answer from reputation, and they raise two that matter more than anything reputation could have surfaced.
In brief: the pen work is strong, and easily good enough to build a collection on — one sheet in particular is better than anything previously assumed about him. The graphite work is a different proposition, and roughly a third of what was supplied would damage an international pitch on sight. And the ink he appears to be using may not survive long enough to be worth a museum's attention.
The finding that shapes every recommendation below. He is not one artist working across two media. He is one artist working in two entirely different relationships to his source material, and left to choose, he moves between them. A ten-work commission issued as a brief and a deadline will return some of both. That is a solvable problem, but it has to be solved in the agreement rather than in month eight.
His public identity remains curatorial and administrative — he is the man who mounts other artists' shows, at a national level. That authority is an asset most artists never acquire, and it is also what has kept his own body of work under-documented internationally. There is no monograph, no sustained critical writing on his drawing, no international auction presence. The commission's task is therefore not visibility. It is producing an authored body of work substantial enough that the record catches up with the standing — and, on this evidence, holding him to the better half of his own range while it does.
His stated subject is worth quoting, because it should shape the theme choice rather than be set aside by it. In his own words, the work is drawn from love stories — "happiness, sadness, loneliness, long waiting hours, meeting of lovers, separation and the moon." He writes poetry alongside painting. This is a romantic, literary sensibility rather than a documentary one, and §08 returns to the complication that creates.
Everything supplied, grouped by register rather than by date, because the register is the argument this paper makes. The notes are internal assessments. They are franker than anything that should be put to the artist directly, which is the purpose of an internal paper.
The works' titles are held by the artist and are not recorded here; plates are referred to by number throughout, with a short description of the subject. Attributions of medium are read from photographs and require confirmation from the artist. Reference codes are the supplied file names.
Register A — the pen body · the commission register
The strongest of the fourteen, and the single best argument for the commission. Almost everything the themes ask for is already here: a working street, stretched tarpaulins, a cat's cradle of overhead wire, an ornate corner building rising out of the clutter, people in the lane. The tonal range runs from bare paper to near-solid black without the darks going dead, and the awnings are carried entirely by the direction of the hatching rather than by outline. It settles a question no amount of biography could — he can hold a complex architectural space and put human beings inside it. The weakness is precisely where the commission would be most exposed: the figures at the end of the lane are the least resolved passage on the sheet, notation rather than people.
Sustained, patient, architecturally literate — the mouldings, the balustrade and the dome ribs are understood rather than copied, which is the difference between a draughtsman and a tracer. Leaving the sky as bare paper is the right decision and he takes it without hesitation. Two things for the brief: the drawing stops rather than finishes at the lower right, and the tonal key sits in a narrow middle band, so the building never fully separates from its own shadow. Both are addressed by a stated finish standard rather than by more talent.
The most confident mark-making of the fourteen. Contour hatching across the horses' quarters does exactly what §04 describes — the line follows the form rather than the light — and the white of the paper carries every highlight without a single touch of body colour. This is what his hand does when it is not copying a photograph. Note how much he leaves out: legs dissolve, the ground is four scribbled strokes, and the drawing is better for it.
The most useful portrait head here for the commission's purposes: open, economical, and unfinished at the edges by choice rather than by fatigue. The sunglasses are a real solution — the darkest note on the sheet placed exactly where the eyes would be — and the collar is allowed to dissolve into loose strokes instead of being dutifully closed. If he draws ten craftsmen at this level, Theme I works. This is the sheet to show him when agreeing what the commissioned register looks like.
Vigorous, expressive, and the closest thing here to illustration — the Urdu line beneath makes it a page rather than a plate. The head itself is well observed and the hatched ground behind it is doing proper work, throwing the white hair forward. Worth knowing this register exists, and worth deciding early whether captioned Urdu belongs on the commissioned sheets. It is an asset for the book and a complication at an international sale, and it cannot be decided work by work.
The most technically ambitious of the fourteen, and the one that proves the labour is real. A near-solid stippled ground with a head modelled out of it; the tonal control at the hairline and the temple is genuinely fine, and the pince-nez is drawn rather than described. This is the Mehdi register — the inheritance claim in §05 is visible here more than anywhere else. It is also the sheet that most urgently needs a conservation answer: if that ground is dye-based, it is the passage that will fade first and most visibly, and it would take the whole image with it.
The reason to look hard at this one is the room, not the sitter. The window, the box on the desk, the framed picture, the water beyond — he can build a believable interior space in ink, with a light source inside it. That is the technical prerequisite for Ten Nights, and until now nothing in the record evidenced it. The face is the weakest passage: generalised, slightly idealised, and noticeably softer than the objects around it — the same tell that runs through Register B.
A third method again: drawing on a mid-toned ground and working in both directions, into the dark and up into white heightening. Handsome, and genuinely useful to know he can do it — the white shirt is among the best-observed passages here. But it takes the work away from pure pen and ink toward a mixed drawing. For a series that has to read as one object across ten sheets, this should be either excluded outright or adopted wholesale as the format. What it cannot be is occasional.
Register B — the graphite body · the problem
The most conceptually ambitious sheet here and the least successful. Two views of the same seated woman, one inverted, sharing a single shawl — an idea about doubling that the drawing never resolves. The inverted head has slipped out of drawing, and the two bodies compete for the same space rather than locking together. It is included in this survey deliberately: it shows he reaches for ideas, and it shows exactly what happens when nobody is standing behind him.
Highly finished, competently modelled, and visibly worked from a photograph — the pose, the crop and the flat frontal light are photographic rather than observed. The carpet is the best passage in it, which indicates where the interest actually lay. Nothing wrong with it as private work; it simply carries no authorship.
A film still redrawn. Skilful, warmly nostalgic, and squarely in the commercial-portrait register. Perfectly good work to sell in Karachi; corrosive if it turns up in a book pitched at a curator, because it dates the whole enterprise to a sensibility the international market reads as illustration.
Sentimental subject, photographic source, capable execution. Worth one observation that is not dismissive: the horse is markedly better drawn than the child. He is a considerably better animal draughtsman than the rest of this group suggests, and Plate 03 says the same thing. If a theme ever needs animals, that is a real strength.
A wedding photograph rendered in graphite, and rendered well. This is commissioned-portrait work, and it is probably what a good part of his market actually buys — which is worth knowing when discussing money, because it sets his expectations of what a drawing is worth and how long one should take. It should be nowhere near this project's public material.
Register C — paint · out of scope, but noted
Confirms the record: he is a painter as well as a draughtsman. Loose, atmospheric, and noticeably freer than any of the graphite — the dust is done with real economy and the horses move. Out of scope for a pen-and-ink commission, but relevant to one decision: if the group ever wants a single colour capstone for the book or the auction, this is the register it would come from, and it is stronger than Register B.
The split is not pen versus pencil, and it is not portrait versus architecture. It is the relationship to the source — and once identified, it is visible in every plate in §02.
The pen work is decided. The polo riders, the flat cap, the clock tower, the bazaar — these leave things out. The paper stays active. The mark itself is doing the describing, and the artist's choice of where to stop is visible. Even where the drawing fails, it fails through a decision.
The graphite work is transcribed. The couples, the child with the horse, the seated girl — these leave nothing out. The sheet fills edge to edge. The mark disappears into the illusion, and the source photograph is doing the composing, the lighting and the expression. The hand is skilled; the authorship is somewhere else.
That is a working diagnosis, not a character judgement, and it has one practical consequence: a commission cannot be a brief and a wait. Left to choose, he moves between the two registers, and on this evidence roughly a third of what arrived would sink an international pitch on sight. Ten works over a year is not the same problem as one good drawing. It is a consistency problem, and consistency is bought with supervision.
None of this is a judgement of his ability. Plates 01, 03, 04 and 06 are the work of someone with a genuinely good hand and, in the case of Plate 06, extraordinary patience. It is a judgement about what ten works made over a year require, and every serious commission in history has had to solve it the same way.
On the evidence of these photographs, most of the pen work appears to be ballpoint — brown-black rather than neutral, with the characteristic sheen, the slight ridging where the ball has loaded, and darks that build warm. Plates 02, 03 and 04 read as ballpoint almost unambiguously. This needs confirming with him directly, because if it is ballpoint the project has a problem it cannot fix later.
Standard ballpoint ink is dye-based, and dye fades. Under gallery light that is measurable in years, not decades. A collection built for a museum acquisition, an auction record and a printed book cannot rest on it, and no glazing or framing fully solves it. Standard conservation guidance for a collection of this kind specifies carbon or pigment ink and rules out dye-based media entirely. The supplied work suggests that standard is not currently being met.
The same conversation covers paper. Several of these sheets appear to be on smooth cartridge or board rather than cotton rag. Both questions belong in the artist agreement, and both belong in the first meeting.
Four details enlarged from the plates in §02. These are what the commission is physically made of.
Enlarged from the supplied photographs, not from the originals — a true macro at raking light is still worth requesting, and would be a strong asset for the book.
Six specimens drawn in the browser, not photographed. They establish a shared vocabulary for briefing the work and writing about it — the terms used in §04 are drawn from these, and the eventual catalogue essay will need them.
Specimens generated procedurally for this brief. They illustrate technique, not any artist's work.
Eqbal Mehdi (1946–2008) was renowned specifically for pen drawings. Born in Amroha, he came to Karachi, worked as an illustrator for Lail o Nahar and Sab Rang, held a landmark solo show at the Arts Council of Pakistan Karachi in 1969, and received the Pride of Performance. He is one of very few Pakistani artists whose reputation rests on the pen rather than the brush.
That makes Farooqi something specific and rare: a direct inheritor of Pakistan's pen-drawing tradition, still working. Not a self-taught draughtsman, not a painter who also draws — a named line of descent in a medium with almost no other living claimants.
The supplied work strengthens this claim rather than weakening it. Plate 06 is the sheet that carries the claim visually: dense stipple, psychological portraiture, tonal control at the edges of a dark ground. If a single work has to be shown to a curator alongside the lineage sentence, that is the one — with the ink question resolved first.
Lineage claims invite scrutiny. Before this goes into print, secure documentation: photographs of Farooqi with Mehdi, letters, any written acknowledgement, testimony from Mehdi's family or from fellow pupils. If it exists, it belongs in the book. If it does not, phrase it as study rather than formal apprenticeship — and say so from the start, in the group's own material, before someone else says it.
Each entry carries a procedurally drawn specimen of the relevant mark-making, a link to the work itself, and a note naming the specific image worth sourcing for the reference plates. Those images are to be gathered separately and added to this document.
Lineage — the Pakistani draughtsmen
Precedent — the ones who got out
Models — how comparable work is sold and marketed
The criteria the three themes were built against, now checked against the work in §02. A theme that fails any of these produces ten good drawings and no collection.
Each carries a compositional schematic showing how the sheet is organised, and an assessment of what the work in §02 does and does not prove about the artist's ability to execute it.
Ten living master craftsmen, each drawn on one sheet with the architecture their craft produced — the face and the fabric of the building in a single composition.
Ten great doorways of Pakistan — city gates, shrine entrances, haveli portals — each drawn with the person who occupies or keeps it. Architecture as the frame, a human being in the aperture.
Pakistan after dark. Ten nocturnes of the working night — the tandoor at 3am, the truck stop, the night pharmacy, the fishing harbour, the wedding hall at closing — each with the people who inhabit that hour.
Earlier research placed The Hands That Built It first, on the grounds that it is the most fundable and the most press-friendly. Both remain true. It is also, on the evidence of §02, the theme the artist is least demonstrably able to execute — and opening a multi-year programme on its highest execution risk is the wrong way round.
Doing all three at once remains a mistake: thirty works is four to five years of drawing, and a scattered launch teaches the market nothing about who he is. Run sequentially and each volume does a different job.
If the group prefers a single shorter programme: take Volume I alone and commission one work from each of the other two as standalone pieces. That gives the film a natural three-act structure and tests the riskier work at a cost of two drawings rather than twenty.
Six are standard for a commission of this kind. The first two are specific to this artist and come directly out of the work assessed in §02.
Once the first two are settled, the next paper can be the full commissioning brief: work-by-work specification, release calendar, a target list of galleries, foundations and institutions with named contacts, and a draft artist agreement carrying all eight clauses above.
Plates 01–14 are photographs of works by Tanweer Farooqi, supplied by the artist. Reproduced here for internal assessment only and not licensed for further use.