The way it was: Looking back at the sixties...
Mian Ijaz-ul-Hassan
Even some of the terribly upper class students wore blue jeans and tried dating
lower class lasses who have always been much more handful than most of the
toothy upper class dames who had great difficulty in getting their vowels out of
themselves. Terry Thomas being the only exception,
but then he was not a dame
Cambridge means different things to different people. It depends on what you
want out of it or what you make of it. Among other things Cambridge enabled me
to enjoy little things and made me conscious of the enigma of life and the
problems of discovering its meaning. Without doubt at that period it was neither
fiction nor poetry but the theatre and cinema that captured my imagination.
There was hardly a play or a film that could be missed. Almost every other
weekend, one rushed to London with a few friends, saw a play, had pancakes with
cream and maple syrup and then tried to speed back to Cambridge before midnight.
The Cherry Orchard, Uncle Vanya, Antigone, Theban Women, The Wild Duck, The
Master Builder, Heart Break House, Six Characters in Search of an Author, The
Dumb Waiter, St Joan of the Stockyard, Chairs, Waiting for Godot... the list is
long.
I found Chekov, Ibsen and Brecht deeply moving and so truthful in revealing and
expressing the inner trials of individuals and their social conflicts —
man’s fragile existence and his courage in the face of it all. In a tragic and
vicious world, man redeems himself in spite of his failings, through suffering,
which leads him to self-awareness. In contrast the so-called Theatre of the
Absurd, made little attempt at grappling larger moral or social issues. There is
no meaning or sense to life and man’s attempt to discover it is futile and
absurd. It mocks conventional religion and prevailing ethical and moral code of
society but offers no answers of its own.
Man’s alienation and bewilderment and his lack of love and fulfillment is the
theme of much of the great cinema of the fifties and the sixties of which, to
mention a few, Bagmen, Feline, Antonioni, Truffaut, and Resnais were the
masters. Boredom, a sense of vast emptiness, an existence without warmth or
feeling, without a cause or a companion, sickness, madness and perversity are
the themes of La Note, 8 ½, The Wild Strawberries and many other films of the
period. There were of course others like Victoria de Sica, Renoir, Visconti,
Bunuel, and Wajda who presented a more cohesive vision of life and expressed
concern for the fate of man.
Beside the rock’n roll and the mini skirts, the sixties were quite fascinating
in many other ways. The cinema tried to explore the inner most recesses of human
thought and feeling with ruthless temerity as it had never been done before. It
challenged human faculties and prevailing precious ideas and beliefs. It
employed an idiom, which was baffling, and yet striking and penetrating. It was
a period of great awakening for the whole generation, an awakening to the world.
Dickens led to Dostoyevsky and him on to Kafka, Camus and Sartre. My
appreciation of Marx came later.
This was a time when moral paucity and political avariciousness of most western
countries was each day becoming more and more transparent, their support of
unjust causes throughout the world was becoming unbearable. Russell’s anti-war
and anti-bomb stand and his exposure of the true nature of US policies and its
allies helped to enlist the support of liberal sections of industrialised
countries in favour of liberation struggles and democratic movements of the
third world. Anti-Vietnam War sentiments highlighted this trend, particularly
among the students. ‘Make love not war’ was the overriding sentiment of the
day. A new popular alternative culture had emerged which tried to laugh official
culture out of court, so to say. The Carnegie Street had taken on the Saville
Row. The blue shirt and the blue jeans, apparel of the African slaves in The
States, had become respectable. Even some of the terribly upper class students
wore them and tried dating lower class lasses who have always been much more
handful than most of the toothy upper class dames who had great difficulty in
getting their vowels out of themselves. Terry Thomas being the only exception,
but then he was not a dame.
The British establishment made incessant efforts to convince the world that Lord
Russell, who stood taller than most men of his time in the West, was a senile
old woman gone round the bend. However, intellectuals like Cambridge economist
Joan Robinson and others established beyond a shadow of doubt that the US and
its allies fed lies to the public about what they claimed to be a just and
victorious war in Indo-China. On one occasion she counted the total number of
Vietcong casualties claimed by the US in the daily press which in 1963 added up
to be several times more than the entire Vietnamese population. The short yellow
man in the black pyjamas had humbled the tall white American with all his war
machines.
This lent strength to peoples’ struggle against colonialism, and
neo-imperialism and their local stooges all over the third world. This also gave
courage to artists and intellectuals to respect their own ideas and creative
faculties. In art, Pop Art cracked the supercilious elitist demeanour of
Modernism by deriding its philosophy and mocking its mannerisms. The great
mystique about highbrow art, carefully nurtured by the art magazines and the
galleries, was destroyed. The Art establishment, however, continued to wield
power by controlling the media and corporate institutions through which they
could make or unmake artists at their will for profit.
Millions were made out of Pop Art later and millions continue to be made out of
art movements howsoever radical or anti-establishment. The market ultimately
reigns supreme in the West. Well meaning artists have tried to seek alternative
to the callousness of the marketing system by dematerialising art through new
modes such as conceptual art but have failed. Some have argued that in a
capitalist world the artist just cannot escape the market.
In the past artists and the state have worked together to produce the Parthenon,
the Taj Mahal, the glorious miniatures for the Mughal Court, and frescoes for
the Sistine Chapel. Can the contemporary artist and the forces of market economy
work together? Then there is the question of artists like us who are living and
working in economies and political systems which escape tidy definitions. In our
country there is neither the free market economy forces in existence nor a state
which is sympathetic to the development of the arts. But this, in a way, has
been a blessing. In today’s world, state patronage can only subvert the arts.
On the other hand, for an artist to be on his own is not easy even at the best
of times. But it is a journey, which he has to undertake himself, like some of
the names I have mentioned did in the sixties. I believe that if an individual
believes in himself and the cause he pleads, sooner or later others will also
start believing in him.
Prof Ijaz-ul-Hassan is Pakistan’s leading painter. He is a teacher, art
critic and political activist. He was awarded the “President’s Pride of
Performance” in 1992. He is currently the president of the PPP Punjab’s
Policy Planning Committee and Chairman of the party’s Manifesto Committee