Everything in the world exists in order to end up as a book,” Stéphane Mallarmé once wrote, imagining the book as a spiritual instrument—an ultimate resting place for thought and matter. In jo gayab hai, aur hazir bhi (that which is absent but also present), at the KNMA, artist Saba Hasan carries that thought forward. The exhibition unfolds at an unhurried pace. Before the spectators are books that feel uncannily familiar: volumes dulled by time, their pages yellowed, spines softened, edges frayed from years of touch. These are not pristine carriers of knowledge but lived objects—handled, shelved, misplaced, remembered. “Coming from a family of academics, books have always been in abundance at my home. They were a natural choice of art material,” says Hasan, adding that she feels comfortable working with books because of her familiarity with the content, “as well as a certain ability, I think, to abstract from it”.
Her sculptural gestures are at once radical and tender. Pages fold inward like guarded thoughts. Covers are cut open to reveal hollowed interiors. Books are layered with wire, metal, leaves, ash. In some works, fire passes through the pages deliberately. The burn is controlled, patient. Language blackens. Meaning flakes. What remains is smell, residue, weight, silence. “I burnt my first book in 2003, and originally at that time it was in the category of questioning the validity of the text. I use the technique of burning as an act of resistance. In the current world, you can clearly see a relevance of my work and my rebellion to the situation all around the world and in India,” says the 63-year-old Delhi artist.
The exhibition’s title is drawn from Faiz Ahmed Faiz’s revolutionary nazm Hum Dekhenge (We Shall Bear Witness), where Truth—An-al-Haq (“I Am Truth”)—exists in contradiction and plurality: jo mai bhi hun, aur tum bhi ho. Curator Neha Zooni Tickoo says, “Resonating with the timeless nazm, Hasan hints at breaking free from the hegemony of the written word and searching for one’s own alphabet—the ultimate truth.” Books are scaled, distorted, restrained, opened, wounded. Text fades with time: sometimes barely legible, sometimes gone entirely. Meaning is not erased in one violent act; it recedes gradually, leaving behind impressions, shadows, and traces.
Does Hasan see her practice shifting towards new materials or forms in the future? “I am like a Renaissance person. I’m always doing multiple things—drawing, painting, writing, shooting, filming, playing music, recording it, making films. I do different media because, in a short period of time, they can catalyse my work. So it is an ongoing stream in the studio. And as I travel, on the go, I join studios around the world. But I am certainly, after this show, picking up paints again—just leaving Delhi and going somewhere far away and trying out colours again. I think I will not be working in the way that you have seen in this exhibition now for some time,” she smiles, and adds as an afterthought, “Artists are like an open book. If you look at our works, you have met us.”
When & Where
jo gayab hai, aur hazir bhi; Till January 10, 2026; KNMA, Saket, Delhi