By Mina Malik-Hussain for Architectural Digest
On the wall facing the large artwork by Qureshi is a Syed Sadequain calligraphy work. On the adjacent wall, the topmost artwork is by Jamil Baloch; the two artworks below it are by Zahoor ul Akhlaq.
Providing directions to the house he and his wife and fellow artist Aisha Khalid share, Imran Qureshi says: “It’s a white house with a neem tree and a mango tree.” He is right on the money: the sleek white house is like a jewel nestled amongst the grand old trees. The imposing triple-height Burmese teak doors open into a foyer lit by two windows that reach up to the ceiling; the left has a view of the lush garden, and the right looks into the sitting room. You can’t really tell where one begins and the other ends, and the house is meant to do just that. “We didn’t want the house to feel like a showroom,” Khalid explains. “It should feel like a home.”
Left: Artists Imran Qureshi and Aisha Khalid; on the wall is a work by Qureshi titled This Leprous Brightness; the terracotta pot on the console is by ceramicist Sheherezade Alam. Right: The dining room has custom-made furniture designed by Khalid; the two large blue-and-black calligraphy paintings are by her as well. The two smaller canvases on the left are by Qureshi, and are titled Opening Word Of This New Scripture and All Are The Colour Of My Heart respectively. The calligraphy artwork below them is by Australian contemporary artist Hossein Valamanesh. Seen here is one of two pink-glass chandeliers specially comissioned in Murano.
Built by architect Raza Ali Dada—the son of the celebrated architect Nayyar Ali Dada—the five-bedroom house with a semi-detached studio was completed this year. From the way things are placed, with each object perfectly at home, it’s hard to believe that Qureshi and Khalid have been living here for just a few months. Their art, lovingly collected on their travels around the world, is scattered all over the house. Two pale-pink Murano chandeliers, bought on a quest in Venice, hang frond-like from the distressed concrete slabs of the kitchen ceiling; a narrow Syed Sadequain piece—it was Khalid’s dream to get one—reaches up alongside a window; an antique Multani-inlay box shaped like the Kaaba sits beneath an enormous four-panelled piece by Qureshi.
They planned it this way, Qureshi explains, so that the house and their art would harmonize. The fact that Dada is a friend from their National College of Arts days made it easier, because he understood what Qureshi and Khalid wanted: a minimalist space with huge windows, lots of light and a place for all their treasures.
But this is not your ordinary white house with big windows; it is the house of artists trained in the art of miniature, and the details are everything. It represents that rare symbiosis between client, architect and contractor. “Everyone was owning the project,” Qureshi laughs, recalling how he would lend his contractor books on architecture and interiors, telling him to study the photographs so he understood what Qureshi wanted.
Left: The front of the house leading to the entrance is sheltered by a neem tree; the Vespa is a working scooter that was restored by Khalid’s brother, Adeel. Right: The master bedroom has original antique almirahs from Khalid’s ancestral home in Shikarpur, Sindh; the headboard of the bed was originally part of a balcony railing from the same house; both were gifts from her father.
The floors are burnished grey marble, one huge slab leading into the other, seamlessly. Qureshi calls it the chaal—meaning ‘walk’. It is a deliberately crafted unity, a flow that leads your eye forward, taking it through the ground floor. You may stop, but only to admire the ceramic plates that flank the stairwell wall—a collection that began with two plates bought in Morocco from a trip in 2004, and now includes additions from Italy, Turkey and the Netherlands.
The stairwell itself is a perfect example of how Qureshi and Khalid’s home reflects their propensity for creative subversion. The fact that it’s their favourite part of the house speaks volumes too. The walls of the narrow staircase are terrazzo-clad; a material only ever used for flooring. “It’s probably the first house to ever have terrazzo on the walls,” Qureshi muses. Polishing it was a Herculean task in itself. The machine is incredibly heavy and had to be winched up so it could reach the top of the 28-foot-high walls, which culminate in a three-pane skylight. We crane our necks upwards, and a few birds fly past. Qureshi smiles. “You can see and hear the rain, too.”
Left: The staircase features the couples’ collection of ceramic plates from Turkey, the Netherlands, Morocco and Tuscany. Right: On this wall in the double-height living room is a 2016 triptych by Qureshi titled Midnight Garden.FROM NATURE
It’s easy to see how much Qureshi and Khalid treasure their interaction with nature. Khalid knows the name of each plant in their lush courtyard garden, which separates the house from her three-storey studio. As we walk through, she pauses to rapturously smell the blossoms on a marwa (marjoram) bush. The master-bedroom windows look out onto blooming frangipani, and a papaya tree laden with promising green fruit, while fronds of lemon grass wave from planters outside. “We wanted to bring the exterior inside,” Qureshi says, “and create a weave.” That’s why they wanted an inner courtyard, haveli-style, and the reason why all the windows in the house, wherever they are, look to a wall of green.Khalid is the force behind all the magnificent Burmese teak furniture in the house, including the swing in their little veranda, where she likes to sit. Each piece has a story, from how the dining table, with its single long slab of grey-white Italian marble and accompanying squat chairs, was devised by the couple; to how the takht in the living room, a nod to Qureshi’s childhood, was designed to accommodate a specific Persian carpet. The master bedroom features two built-in wardrobes with antique doors from Khalid’s ancestral home; the headboard of the bed displays a lovingly restored teak filigree from a balcony of the same house. The ceiling of the powder room is a cheeky panel of colourful Multani mirror-work, and Qureshi has plans for a video installation to amuse guests using the amenities. It’s evident that, for this couple, home is a thoughtful mix of past and present, open and private, measured and playful.
The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author(s) and do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of Muslim World Today.