As a child, Nina Kashif moved from one military base to another. “My parents wanted me to become a doctor or an engineer,†she says, smiling. “This was never part of the plan.†What Nina enigmatically refers to as “this†is a media career in one of the biggest production houses in the country. As the general manager of all things creative at M.D Productions (formerly Moomal Productions), Nina has her work cut out for her — from reading scripts to soothing temperamental actors to attending to the director’s last-minute wish list. But she thrives in this environment, seeking solutions to challenges and savouring the praise and recognition that comes from a hit drama serial. “Once the project is out, and especially if it’s a hit†she says, “everything, including the fights, are forgotten, and everyone is one big happy family.â€
‘After the scene ended, everyone was crying. I have never seen anything like it in my eight years in the industry’
Marriage, says Nina, gave her wings. She attributes much of her success and wellbeing to her husband Kashif and their two kids, Affaf and Salaar. “My family is happy if I’m happy,†she says. Nina’s first stint in the media was at MTV where she worked, among other things, with a little-known VJ by the name of Mahira Khan on MTVs “Most Wanted.â€Â Many years later, Nina and Mahira’s paths were to cross again, when Mahira starred in Humfasar, of which Nina was the senior producer. Humsafar exploded on the screen, becoming one of Pakistan’s most popular drama serials ever to be aired. Fawad and Mahira Khan shot to fame overnight, but it was also Nina’s first breakthrough. “My husband’s friends would see me in the credits and tell him, ‘wow, bhabhi is doing a great job!’†she laughs. “Before Humsafar, it was very much ghar ki murghi, daal baraabar.â€
Many years later, Nina and Mahira’s paths were to cross again on the set of Humsafar
“Mahira is like a younger sister to me,†Nina tells me. “When she and I go to a restaurant, we have to find the smallest corner in the room where no one will see us!†Ditto with Fawad: when Nina joined Fawad and his wife for dinner at a Thai restaurant in Karachi soon after the release of Humsafar, almost everyone, at one point, came to their table for an autograph or a picture. When Nina talks about the project, there is wistfulness in her voice: “Everyone on set had great relationships.†This is unusual for drama serials where misunderstandings, fights, and egos compete. “God rewarded everyone working on Humsafar for having good intentions. These were all good, sincere, talented, self-made people.â€
On the set of Dastaan, when the shoot was running late and half the costumes had not arrived, Saba Qamar arrived with things like parandas and chooris from her own house
After Humsafar, Nina worked on Mata-e-Jaan, one of my personal favourites, starring Sarwat Gilani, Adeel Hussain and Javed Sheikh. An incredibly well-done project about the lives of two Columbia students, it was shot in part at the university in Manhattan. The list of serials Nina has worked on as a producer are impressive for their range and the quality of their commercial success. Among them are Vasl (directed by Mehreen Jabbar), Daastaan (directed by Haissam Hussain), Paani Jaisa Pyaar (directed by Sarmad Khoosat of Humsafar fame), Mata-e-Jaan (directed by Mehreen Jabbar), Bilqees Kaur (directed by Adnan Ahmed) and Hamnasheen (directed by Siraj ul Haq). The forthcoming “Muhabbat Subha ka Sitara hai†(directed by Sakina Samoo) stars Mikal Khan, Adeel Hussain, Sanam Jung, Mira Sethi, Hira Tareen and others.
Nina attributes much of her success, and confidence, to Mr Ghazanfar Ali (who helped her get started at MTV) and Momina Duraid, the CEO of MD Productions. “They have been a source of inspiration and guidance for me through out. The credit for everything I have learnt goes to these two individuals.†I asked how she balances her hyper-demanding career with the demands of her children and family. “I’d be lying if I said it’s a piece of cake,†she says. “But I work hard.†She adds, playfully, “I have always believed in having my cake and eating it too, so this lifestyle is fine insofar as I maintain a balance!â€
One of Nina’s most satisfying and moving experiences came on the set of Dastaan, a Razia Butt novel, Bano, adapted to the screen. “We had to work hard to make the serial as beautiful as the book,†she says. In a country where historical archives are dumped in horse stables (as was recently discovered), Nina tells me there was little visual or historical information with which to create a genuine feel for Dastaan, which is a period drama. It tells the story of Bano, a girl from a closeknit Muslim family living in Ludhiana (in Punjab) in the pre-1947 era. The plot centers around Bano and her fiancée, as they battle the upheavals caused by Partition. Dastaan was the first project of its kind made in Pakistan, and by Nina’s telling, also a one-of-a-kind experience in her career as a producer. “The research involved was extensive; we had to go through movies, clips and endless other sources to get the look and feel of Dastaan just right.†Notable locations of shooting included the Islamic College, the Badshahi Masjid as well as the Pakistan Railways Station. Nina recalls a moment on the set when her eyes welled-up-because the scene they had just shot was so moving. In the July heat of Lahore, in the walled city, some 50 or so actors including Saba Qamar, Sanam Baloch and Ahsan Khan were shooting. After the scene ended, Nina says, “Everyone on the set was crying, I have never seen anything like it in my eight years in the industry.â€
Nina goes onto praise Saba Qamar for being a versatile actress with incredible range. “She’s a professional, and completely self-made.â€Â She recounts how once on the set of Dastaan, when the shoot was running late and half the costumes had not arrived, Saba arrived on set with things like parandas and chooris from her own house — a reflection of her dedication. I asked Nina how she feels working closely with the biggest stars in the country, and in many instances, toiling behind the scenes to make them into the stars they are. “I always believed in giving more than receiving,†she says. “It’s great to see artists prosper in life in a way that your own contribution is evident too.†Nina Kashif is the classic urban working mom: practical, motivated, generous with her praise. From a shy teenager to a newly-wed housewife to managing director of all things creative in the most influential production house in the country, Nina Kashif has had a whirlwind journey. We wish her continued success.
Nina’s Wardrobe: Sania Maskatiya
Makeup and Styling: Beenish Pervez
Saba Ahmed meets Shazad Hafeez, who participated in the first flowering of Pakistani hairstyling and modeling
[fdropcap]D[/fdropcap]o you remember the early-90s? Before the era of supremely-arched eyebrows, “rosy†complexions and the overly made-up bridal look? Shazad Hafeez, who styled Pakistan’s first crop of models—Aaminah Haq, Iraj, Vinnie, Bibi—fashioned minimal, natural looks for each of these models. The 90s was a decade of high excitement and low anxiety. Shazad, who trained as an engineer and ended up a hair stylist, was at the forefront of makeup in this glorious decade.
An aspiring engineer, Shazad never took hairdressing seriously. Back in the 80s, people from comfortable backgrounds did not become hairdressers, he told me when I visited him at his home in Defense. Respect and credibility seeped into the profession as it became more lucrative. “As with most professions in Pakistan,†Shazad said, “Where there’s money, there’s respect.†As a result, hairdressing has slowly become ‘legit.’
By 1995, the Pakistani model had acquired a dramatic, filmy look—inspired by India’s Filmfare and Cineblitz Magazines
The aesthetic appreciation of hairstyles in Pakistan, however, has always been the same: we opt for naturally beautiful, luscious, thick long hair, whether it is set off by the classic chuttiya, or styled more naturally.
When Shazad was getting started in the mid 90s, hairstyles from the West – sharp silhouettes and daring partings – were rolling in. Shazad had trained in New York, and he had a refined, educated aesthetic. It was only when Western styles slowly made their way to Pakistan that people actually found a need, for the first time, for high-end hairdressers. The growth of Chinese-owned salons brought in new styling; the influence permeated to makeup as well. The porcelain doll and geisha look, that had been the standard for brides all through the late 70s up to the early 90s, was being replaced with something more real. “To whitewash the bride,†says Shazad, “And then paint on the features, this does not appeal to an educated mind.â€
Aaminah Haq called me one day and said, ‘Make me a model. I want to be on the cover of every fashion magazine in the country’
Shazad trained extensively at prestigious salons all over Manhattan, including Vidal Sassoon, the Toni and Guy Academy, and Bumble and Bumble before settling on a salon in Greenwich Village called Damian West, where he worked for nine years. Quickly, Shazad found himself having to choose between styling shoots and doing salon work. It was after he styled a shoot for Playboy magazine that he finally made the decision. He remembers the day well: the stylist scheduled for the shoot was double-booked so the salon where Shazad worked decided to take a chance and send Shazad. “The model’s name was Vera,†he told me. “She was a 25-year-old from Sweden, and as soon as we were acquainted, the photographer came in to inform me that Vera was to be ready in 15 minutes! I just did whatever I used to do—I did the hair and the makeup and it was fine. Vera walked on set and the photographer declared, “Perfect! That’s exactly what I had in mind.†At that moment, Shazad thought to himself: I can either be a stylist, doing fabulous shoots all over the world, or I can choose the reliability and solidity of a salon. He opted for salon work and has never looked back.
He moved back to Pakistan for five years, from 1993-1998, went back to New York from 1998-2012, and he’s back again, indefinitely, this time for both personal and professional reasons. He’s looking after his father, while also doing makeup and styling at Madeeha’s salon in Lahore.
“I am a simple person,†he told me. “I like working with simple people and clients, some of whom have been with me for 20 years or maybe more now.†In 1993 Pakistan, as the beauty and fashion industries were taking off, Shazad found he was able to do both styling and hairdressing, attending more and more to bridal clients, as bridal makeup at this point had become a strong addition to his already burgeoning skill-set as a stylist.
Of his time in New York he reminisces, “I had bridal clients in New York that would call me to check with me first if I was available before setting their wedding dates!â€
During the five-year stretch in Pakistan, Shahzad styled TV shows, Lux Style ki Duniya as well as maintaining a roster of private clients. He worked with the pioneers of Pakistan’s modelling industry—Vinny, Iraj, Aamina Haq, ZQ. “Remember,†he says, “When modeling was a relatively new industry, there was very little competition. It was all about ijaazat. If you had ijaazat, they would paint your face.†He says the professionalism in the industry has now created space for healthy competition.
Back then, he says, most women in Pakistan were not ready to cut their hair. “In Pakistan, women have a fear of chopping off their hair. In India, modern hair-styling is part of fashion and beauty. But not here. Half the women cover their hair, most of them are averse to cutting it—so you don’t have many options left. Only a very small minority is into serious hair-styling.â€
I wanted to know more about what the Pakistani fashion and modeling industry was like back then. After all, Shazad worked closely with some of its biggest names.
“Aaminah Haq called me one day and said, ‘Make me a model. I want to be on the cover of every fashion magazine in the country.’†The phone call kickstarted the beginning of Aaminah Haq’s career. “She understood my creativity,†he says. “I worked with her more than any other model. We started in 1993, working with photographers who now have huge empires of their own.â€
![go6]](http://www.goodtimes.com.pk/gtmain/uploads/2013/10/go6.jpg)
By 1995, Shazad says, the Pakistani model had acquired a dramatic, filmy look—inspired by India’s Filmfare and Cineblitz Magazines. “They were soft-focus images designed to make the model look five shades lighter,†he smiles.
Shazad did many fashion shows, including one in which HSY was introduced for the first time. It was an exciting time to be in Pakistani fashion and hairstyling. By 1998, Nabila and Tariq Ali had arrived on the scene, deepening and enhancing the industry’s approach to makeup.
That’s when he left for New York, to pursue the type of techniques he had always found more interesting: experimental, avant-garde, creative. He worked in Manhattan for 14 years, perfecting the skills in the city he had first learnt them. Shazad moved back to Lahore in 2012 and works now at Madeeha’s salon. He says he is back for an indefinite period. For someone who has lived a remarkably varied life, Shazad has levelheaded advice for those thinking of getting into hairdressing: “Get an education in something useful. Then pursue what you want after having grounded yourself and gotten your bearings right.â€
Sanam Marvi wants to spread Sufi kalaam with her voice
By Saba AhmedÂ
[fdropcap]A[/fdropcap]fter much insistence to please not bother with tea, I was served cold and refreshing aab-e-zamzam and dates from the umrah from which Sanam Marvi has recently returned. I began by asking Sanam ji about her childhood and the path that led to her becoming a Sufi musician. Sanam’s father was a Sufi singer and is a devout fakeer of Hazrat Shah Abdul Bhitai. Growing up in Hyderabad, Sanam Ji accompanied her father to the darbars of Sufi saints and attended the performances of very talented and spiritually powerful Sufi musicians. She got classical training from Ustad Fateh Ali Khan of the Gwalior gharaana and began singing at the age of seven. She serenely told me, “I pray for Pakistan, and I pray for our people. I urge more are more people to read Sufi kaalam and to read books by Sufi mystics and there will be more peace and calm in their lives.”
When Sehwan Sharif calls, Sanam goes. She works hard to give a performance that resonates with love and respect
At a UNESCO summit that took place recently in Tashkent, out of 80 singers from 80 different countries, Sanam ji won the first prize. It was a great moment of pride for her as the flag of Pakistan was hoisted high. Sanam is fluent in Siraiki, Sindhi and Punjabi. When you meet her, she appears to be a genuinely humble woman, true to the values of the long-standing Sufi tradition of peer and fakeer. She told me, for example, that she is not worthy of the knowledge she has gained, and has much more to learn. Spoken like a true Sufi gulukaara.
Sanam attributes her appearances in the PTV’s Virsa Heritage program as the moment when her career started. Virsa Heritage has been instrumental in the promotion of Pakistan’s Sufi poetry and has been able to portray the verse in such a way that young and old listeners alike enjoy it. It is because of shows like this, and Coke Studio, that we are beginning to see aspiring musicians come to the fore.
‘I do not know understand why ustaads nowadays do not pass on their education? When they have the honour of being the caretakers of this treasure, why would they take it with them to the grave?’
“Mian Yusuf Salahuddin is like a father, like a murshid,” Sanam ji told me. It was with the support and encouragement of Mian Salli, coupled with the exposure Sanam received from the Heritage program that she branched out to bigger ventures. Her performances at Coke Studio are beloved of Pakistan’s youth. Her Sufi-qawwal music has earned her vocal appearances in Bollywood films such as London Paris New York and The Dirty Picture. She is routinely invited to Sufi festivals and has toured France and Morocco as well.
Sanam joined Coke Studio in 2009 when they were producing their third season, and her powerful, rich voice was an immediate hit. She will appear in the much-anticipated sixth season that features musicians trained in both contemporary and traditional instrumentation. When asked about Coke Studio and the dynamic between everyone, she says that it is much like a family; everyone is caring, there is education and input and a back-and-forth that is quite magical. The improvisational nature of the performances has led the musicians to evolve and work together. Sanam ji told me she admires and respects the founder of Coke Studio, Rohail Hyatt. “He is always keen to listen and suggest ways of improving,” she says. “He treats me like a younger sister.”
Riaz, or practice, is something that Sanam is diligent about. Being a mother of two, as well as staying true to her musical talent, is not easy. She says she has immense support from her husband and her children. “If they weren’t with me, I would not have reached where I am today.”
She cooks, maintains her household (very nicely I might add), and is a loving wife and a national musical sensation. “To keep a good home and to give my children a good life is my duty.”
And then she must perform at the darbars. Sachal Sarmast’s shrine holds ‘Sufi Mela,’ where Sanam has an obligatory performance every year at the urs. For her it is part of her religion and of her worship. Shah Abdul Bhitai’s shrine holds a similar mela every year where Sanam sings the sacred verses of the Sufi saints. She also goes to the urs of Bedil and Bekas, a father and son from the pious family of Rohri who have upheld the Sufi traditions of the generations before them. And when Sehwan Sharif calls, she goes. Her attendance at the Lal Shahbaz Qalander urs is mandatory, she says. She works hard and meditates in order to give a performance that resonates with love and respect.
‘In 2009, when I had only just gotten started, Yusuf Sahib gave me the most shocking of surprises: I found out I was to be singing alongside Rahat Fateh Ali Khan’
When asked about artists she has most enjoyed working with, Sajjad Ali’s name crops up. “It was such a dream to have worked with him. He is a kind-hearted person who gave me respect and knowledge as one would to a shaagird.” The same way, she mentions working with Rahat Fateh Ali Khan as a wonderful experience. “In 2009, when I had only just gotten started Yusuf Sahib gave me the most shocking of surprises: I found out I was to be singing alongside Rahat bhai.” Of course, she has sung alongside Shafqat Amanat Ali, Arif Lohar and many others.
When asked if she would venture into pop music or perhaps the likes of Noor Jehan covers, she responded no. “I have the voice for Sufi poetry and it is my wish to continue to sing our Sufi kalaam.” Currently, Sanam is working on an album in India featuring Reshma ji’s songs. “Roots2Roots is a company in India that I have signed with and it is through them that I am recording the album featuring all of Reshma Ji’s classic songs with some improvisation of my own.”
With regards to the state of education of classical music in our region, she says musicians from the most knowledgeable gharaanas say that this art must die with them. “Knowledge only grows by passing it on” she says. “I do not know understand why ustaads nowadays do not pass on their education? If you are teaching Raag Aimen, you have to teach everything about it — what are the waadhi and samwaadhi surs, when is it sung? When they have the honour of being the caretakers of this treasure that has been passed down, why would they take it with them to the grave?” More power to Sanam ji for asking these questions.
“You’re never too fat for a new purseâ€
A good handbag does many things: your small valuables (moisturizer, shades, wallet) stay with you where ever you go, it completes a “look,†and it allows you to move around with a beautiful accessory, held in your hand, slung on your shoulder or arm. With so many colors, shapes and sizes to choose from, selecting different bags for different occasions is exciting. Remember that a good handbag doesn’t have to leave a dent in your wallet. Here are a range of looks — from edgy to classic — that we’ve seen around town.
—Nia VardalosÂ
Komail at his desk, with one of his pieces from last year in the background
For Komail Aijazuddin, a deep affinity with art was something he had been born with. Developing a relationship with painting, however, came later in his life. Growing up, Komail’s parents were quick to see that he demonstrated extraordinary ability as an artist. When they first saw his drawings at age four, it was instantaneously decided that Komail would be enrolled in art classes. During vacations, the family would take trips to museums — when other upper-class Pakistani families were taking their kids to Hamley’s, the biggest toy store in London. In his summer vacations, he studied with Colin David. But art was still a distant and seemingly obscure idea to Komail. It wasn’t until he went to college — in Canada and later in the US — that he began to see art as a profession. “My parents are art historians and collectors, so I grew up with a lot of paintings around the house,†he tells me when I meet him in his studio in Lahore’s St. John’s Park. There are oil paints all over the main room where he works, with motivating inscriptions on the wall. His gorgeous red-and-gold-leaf paintings are stacked against the wall (Komail will show his new work, which includes a stunning jharoka, at Khaas gallery in Islamabad from September 17 to 28).
Komail with his newest work, most recently exhibited in a solo show, “Red & Gold,” at Khaas Gallery in Islamabad
After Komail received his distinction in Art in the O Levels, he received two gifts from his father. The first was a sketch of Colin David, from the artists days at Slade. The second was a trip to Italy. His father took him to Rome to see the Vatican and the Sistine Chapel, with its iconic ceiling painted by Michelangelo.
During their vacations, the family would take trips to museums when other upper-class Pakistani families were taking their kids to Hamley’s, the biggest toy store in London
At college, Komail began in the liberal arts, but quickly made a switch to art history when he transferred from McGill to New York University. “The more I studied Art History, the more I realized that artists think differently and happen to be good at being able to read the history of art and distill information in a way that is different from most people,†he tells me. He studied Art History as a rigorous program that constituted mainly Greek and Roman art. Thus, in following, he began a string of stints in art and other creative pursuits.
After a year of having worked for Amnesty International, he tested the waters and worked briefly at a magazine. “Writing was also something I really wanted to do because I write as much as I paint.†Komail was 21, in New York, and couldn’t see what it was that he really wanted to do. He worked at a gallery, an auction house, wrote about art, in addition to working as a theatre critic. At the age of 22, after having done a whole host of desk jobs, he had an epiphany: “If 9-to-5 is a very large part of your day, for the rest of your life, it is imperative you do something you really, really enjoy doing. And it seems arrogant, but whatever someone else will pay you to do something you don’t like is not often worth it.†Komail bit the bullet and enrolled in an MFA program at Pratt University in New York.
He realized that he became more and more interested in painting. “I started including the application of gold-leaf to my painting process and I started doing it as therapy almost,†he says. “I had stopped painting for a long time between 18 and 21, which for a painter is a long time. I felt this great betrayal for some reason. And the only way to rationalize that betrayal was to paint about it.â€
As one of the highlights of his career, at the end of grad school, Komail spent a year dealing in art and working in an Israeli gallery. It was a fun time in his life but for Komail it was clear that the microcosm of the art world would continue to exist in Brooklyn or in Chelsea. In other words, it was not relevant to him. The strength of his identity and earliest influences made him see that the art world and market in New York were self referential, academic and deeply rooted in American and Western Art History.
I probed Komail to tell me more about Pakistani Art. “I don’t know about Pakistani Art or artists, I think about Art in Pakistan,†he says. “I don’t know if we’ve developed a definition for Pakistani Art and what that is,†he says, with his classic mix of skepticism and intelligence. “The — isms of the west came and influenced our part of the world later, like reruns of old TV shows, but also in a way that was interpreted by local artists that resulted in distinctly different formal elements from the — isms from which they were derived.†He traces a lack of indigenous movements in Pakistani art as a problem. “The followers of influential artists are what make an art movement. Colin David doesn’t have followers right now in the way he should. I have adored his work and I will be a big proponent of it for the rest of my life.â€
‘I’m wary of the fact that Pakistani Art is topical right now because the country is war-torn, and as long as that continues, there will be an interest in it’
The strongest and oldest painting tradition of our region, to date, is that of miniature painting. With eastern techniques, the work is measured and thoughtful and skilled. “You try and imbibe something from whatever community you’re in but at the same time, painting is not a team sport,†says Komail. “It’s important to be aware of how you are considered and what other people are doing in this country, yet it is not a team sport,†he says, outlining the inherent contradictions of being an artist — a fundamentally solitary process, with years of history stretching behind you.
Komail attributes the dearth of more groundbreaking movements in Pakistani art to the sheer lack of painters. “Creative people from different industries can get grouped together under the same banner if they aren’t enough of them in their respective fields to advance individual schools of thought. The local Pakistani scene has little or no presence in the international Art world when it comes to galleries and curatorial prowess. If you go to Art Dubai or the Venice Biennale or Art Istanbul, you won’t find a Pakistani gallery there. There may be dozens of Pakistani artists, but almost no galleries from Pakistan, which speaks volumes.â€
 He has spent time understanding his relationship with Pakistan to solidify his own appreciation of creating work in the country. He uses traditional techniques that could only be made by local Pakistani craftspeople. The jharoka stands out in his most recent work as a distinctly South Asian element.
‘I have adored Colin David’s work and I will be a big proponent of it for the rest of my life’
After finishing up a show, Komail takes a breather, a small vacation or a short stint of doing absolutely nothing. It’s the well-deserved reward for someone who has bared their soul, creating art in a studio alone, day in and day out, with only one’s own thoughts and routine load-shedding as accompaniments! Later, once the work is out, “to defend and market your work can really churn your insides — from the time of the creation of the pieces till when they are sold,†he laughs. The good news is that Komail takes his painting seriously. It is a profession. “The risk of failure is high and truthfully and simply, artists should know where their strength lies. The other great thing about art, he says, is that “it’s a platform from which you can attack lots of different things. But I’m wary of the fact that Pakistani art is topical right now because the country is war-torn and as long as that continues, there will be an interest in it.â€
Komail walks GT through his various processes
“The jharoka,†he continues, “is craft, but art here in Pakistan it is not only on a wall, it’s utilitarian. There is use to it. There is a tremendous amount of philosophy behind Islamic Art for example that is not based on craft.â€
I leave the studio in a bit of daze, having just been given a frighteningly intelligent and considered tour of Art History, and particularly the place and development of Pakistani Art in it. “You do what you do and if you do it well, your work will do well because at the end of the day, you have to defend yourself. My advice for painters is to tell the truth in their work. The closer you get to the truth, the better people respond to it. It is a brave thing to do, and it is not an easy thing to do in a country like Pakistan.â€
The roaring twenties gave birth to the modern woman. As women entered the workforce in record numbers, fashion trends became more accessible, its wearers more sophisticated and discerning. Fun, sexy, and chic, the fashions of the 1920s mark one of the most exciting decades for clothes and accessories. We’ve spotted some of our favourite movers and shakers incorporating elements from this decade into their ensembles. Have a look, and be inspired.