“My works are universal”
– Fadilah Karim
SHE has not changed much. Except now she is married and has a two-year-old daughter – and her works have become more detailed, vibrant even, which is not her previous trademark. The exhibition accompanying her book ended on January 3.
Walking into Whitebox at Publika, where the show was held, there are mixed feelings. It appeared almost lacklustre as if the works were arranged without much thought for careful curation. Maybe this was done on purpose, to draw in audiences into figuring out their way through the maze. For those who are familiar with Fadilah’s paintings, it is a breeze. The ones who are not, however, would find the exhibition difficult to manoeuvre. The exhibition featured paintings mostly on loan from her loyal collectors, and a few are from the artist’s private collection.
I have always been curiously beguiled by Fadilah Karim’s works. As a person, the artist is an introvert, painfully shy and distant at times. She is not verbal when it comes to words; she speaks through her art, and that is when everything implodes and explodes.
Her early work is what mesmerises most, and those who collected them are envied. These works were inordinately intense, born from a poetic imagination, devastatingly eloquent, and most of all bared the degradation of the mind and soul. When it comes to her renderings, she is fearless: unflinching, unabashed – she mutilates, kills and takes herself apart inch by inch until nothing is spared. Her whole life is bared - insecurities, despair, split personalities, break-ups, make-ups, hiccups and now, her “new” life as wife and mother.
The book has several writings by Nizam Rahmat, her collectors Pakhruddin Sulaiman, a slew of blurbs from distinguished names and Segaris Art Centre’s Jamal Afiq Jamaludin. But what really captured attention is what her lecturer, Jalaini (Jai) Abu Hassan wrote:
“In 25 years of teaching fine art, there have been several outstanding students, and their journey towards becoming real painters are arduous and filled with uncertainties. Fadilah is one of them. I was not sure if she would become a ‘seniman muda’, but she has one quality which perhaps separates her from the rest – that unappeasable stubbornness, her determination to make it no matter what. And she has. I admire Didi (Fadilah) and am 'envious'. This is what every teacher hopes for; a student who comes into her own and wades bravely through life as a pupil, painter, wife and mother.”
I remember my visit to her first studio in Ara Damansara years ago. Stretched canvases piled in one corner, an unmade bed, her smorgasbord of palettes, tubes of paint, brushes, rags, turpentine. But it was her (then) four cats which took over her domicile – Takashi, Yoshi, Maya and Luna. Two still remain with her to this day, Takashi and Yoshi, the former immortalised in Takashi and Me (2016).
The essay written for the book by Sarah Abu Bakar is comprehensive: it encompasses Fadilah’s whole life as an artist, daughter, wife and mother. Ten years of work is not easy to collect, and reading it, one gets an intimate look at Fadilah’s existence. But there are elements missing: passion, lust, that tad of ‘evil’, lunacy and sense of ‘terror’ which permeates much of Fadilah’s works. It is by no means disappointing – her writing is skilled, her research impeccable, and the fact that they are both mothers of young children bonds both writer and artist.
Sarah said: “As a mother of a two-year-old girl myself, Fadilah’s subject matter on motherhood resonates with me. I understand the struggles of a working mother. Fadilah’s decade-long career is a meritorious one.”
There are so many of her paintings to review: but the ones which compel most are ones which the artist made when she was drowning on “drugs” of solitude. Second Thought III (2011) is one example of her inner turmoil – there is no inclination for elegance here, and when most of us invent our appearances (and now wear actual masks) and disguise our pain, she takes the disease of loneliness and ‘circles the drain’. Come to think of it, she could be the poster child of the state of our current times.
“My mother gave me an ultimatum: if within half a year and I am unable to procure stable work, the choices are simple – return home to Johor or do a postgraduate course, and teach.”
But this girl did not give in. She marched on and never looked back. In her early years, her parents, upon recognising their daughter’s interest in art, enrolled her in Michael Academy of Art in Batu Pahat, where she immersed herself in pencil sketching, water and poster colour, designs and oil painting.
Later on, she applied for a course in Banking at UiTM but it fell through. As fate would have it, she tried again, applying for a place in Fine Arts. The rest is history – Fadilah’s unusual style of painting began getting traction, and the art community woke up from a long slumber and all eyes were on her.
She has a series done on smokers, which is just plain fabulous: featuring her friends Najib Bamadhaj, 2012. Azrin Mohd, (2012) Dinn Diran, (2012) Azizi Latif (2012), Arikwibowo (2012) and Syafiq (2014). We, smokers, are persecuted so much it is enthralling to see these unapologetic paintings, especially Azrin Mohd. who is one of the coolest smokers I know.
Various animals make appearances in her paintings; deer, wolves, cats and rabbits. In HypnotiserI, II and II, Fadilah sees herself as the conjurer, calling forth these animals to beckon to her will, and in turn, she reveres them as parts of herself. It is her way of regaining confidence, of surviving in a world filled with dread, hostility and despair.
But it is interesting to see how much she has grown since becoming a mother. Her paintings have become increasingly sanitised, there are no more those mind-twisting pulsating distortions of bone and muscular structure as in her earlier work – she paints her daughter into many of her paintings, and now there is tenderness instead of torment. Motherhood must not be taken lightly, of course, and the precarious balancing acts she goes through daily is deeply apparent in these newer renderings.
But we do miss the Fadilah Karim who showed us her heart, bleeding profusely on her sleeve, the hysterical outbursts, her breathless chase for some kind of Utopia, paintings which depict destruction, alienation and ghosts.
“I would like to pursue themes of motherhood, see where that takes me,” Fadilah muses.
In retrospect, Fadilah Karim has a bright future, no matter what she paints. And we certainly are in dire need of more works which are thorough and brilliant as what she has been producing to antagonise the vulgar cacoethes of those belligerent art stars ‘wannabes’, and remind us of the real persistence of visual culture. – The Vibes, January 7, 2021
Limited copies of 'A Decade, Fadilah Karim, 2010-2020' is available for RM300 at:
Segaris Art Centre
Lot No. 8, Level G4,
Publika Shopping Gallery
No. 1, Solaris Dutamas,
50480 Kuala Lumpur
