Montreal-based artist Shireen Kamran’s paintings, shown recently at Canvas Gallery, rejoice in the sheer abstraction of form.

Aptly titled,‘A Search for Meaning’, this exhibition continues Kamran’s artistic journey, which has been tied to the intuitive processes of mark-making with the paintbrush, imprint of the hand and textured materials, and scraps of flat paper surfaces collaged on to the canvas.

The viewing was accompanied by the faint sound of Samuel Barber’s ‘Adagio for Strings’ and ‘Volin Concerto.’ In music, adagio means ‘played slowly.’ If a string has an adagio movement, it’s a selection that’s played at a slow tempo. Similarly, viewing Kamran’s paintings is an emotionally and physically immersive experience, only if we allow ourselves to be open to it by not trying to locate recognisable objects or physical forms.

The work demands a mindfulness and presence to savour the forms that layer one upon the other, regardless of the association to representational elements. The rhythm of music neither reflects nor translates into the imagery, but rather what Kamran has been listening to while painting.

Shireen Kamran’s abstract art forms are meditative in nature and deeply introspective

Shireen Kamran’s abstract art forms are meditative in nature and deeply introspective

Abstraction allows artists to delve into the subconscious mind to guide their brushstrokes and mark-making. The liberated form enables them to tap into their innermost thoughts, resulting in works that are deeply personal and emotionally charged. There may be as many pathways to experience and interpret Kamran’s art as there are viewers, as her imagery allows introspection on a deeply personal level. The stoic stillness in the imagery suggests that she painted in the quiet of the studio. Also apparent is the light in the work, which appears to be a winter light.

The predominant yellow as an under layer in much of this body of work comes from a drive through a flaming yellow forest during autumn in eastern Canada. The colour becomes the form and determines the progression, setting a chain of aesthetic propositions, arguments and counter arguments. Kamran talks about moments where she feels lost and puts aside the canvas to work on another one, or resolves it by rotating it upside down or sideways, to explore new problems until she knows that she must move on to the next canvas.

I instantly think of my favourite artist, the abstract expressionist Willem de Kooning, who worked on his Women Series of paintings for six years in the 1950s. De Kooning’s broad brush strokes merged the figure and landscape — the surface pulsating with life and often tumultuous rhythm. Shapes shift and dissolve before the eyes. Kamran’s is much like a syncopated rhythm in music, which involves a variety of rhythms that are in some ways unexpected, or off-beat.

Pathways connect and disconnect, leading to an endless trail of what the artist refers to as “mistakes”. Mistakes, or irregularities that she says she enjoys. This is perhaps the core of her creative magic. She opens herself to emotions that find expression through the painterly. The ‘process’ becomes the subject. She progresses to finding depth through receding angular and linear elements, with the balance constantly tipping.

A recurring pictorial element in Kamran’s imagery is the division of space, where one side is off-centred. There is no central focus, but rather the residue of ongoing conversations. Kamran’s space conveys angst, with moments of stillness as well as a lyrical line that meanders as a connecting element. Much like the untrimmed edges of her attire that she stitches herself, her unframed canvases expose an endearing rawness. The memory of sewing goes back to her mother, who always used her needle to crochet or embroider.

There is this bare earthiness and weave of the canvas on which she opens her heart, her intuition, her dreams. There are moments of stillness akin to a meditative force and therein she finds solace in the music of Barber and Robert Schumann.

The representational appears as a parallel thread, as illusion, such as in the work My Soul is a Woman (2025), where the faint figure appears in the form of a light, but merges with the layers of paint. It reappears in the form of a chair, alluding to a seated figure. Parts of human and animal limbs surface, entangled within a web of strokes and drips of paint.

On the other hand, the way colour arrangements and shapes visually relate to one another can be the sole concern of the abstract painter and that is where I would look for meaning in Kamran’s art.

‘A Search for Meaning’ was on display at Canvas Gallery in Karachi from February 3-12, 2026

The writer is an independent art critic, researcher and curator based in Karachi

Published in Dawn, EOS, February 15th, 2026

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