Shotoborshe Sultan: Nasir Ali Mamun’s poetic lens on a legend

"Amar Jabar Belay Kehoi Dhoriya Rakhite Paribe Na, Nasir Ali Mamun Tar Camerai Dhoriya Rakhibe"—"As the time comes for me to depart, no one can hold me back except Nasir Ali Mamun, who will capture me forever through his camera," wrote SM Sultan on a March afternoon in 1986.

Decades later, on a summer evening in Dhaka, acclaimed photographer Nasir Ali Mamun's lens fulfilled that promise, offering the public an intimate journey into the life of Bengal's undisputed Sultan.

Bengal Foundation, in collaboration with HSBC Bangladesh, inaugurated "Shotoborshe Sultan" at the Quamrul Hassan Exhibition Hall of Bengal Shilpalaya, celebrating the centenary of the artist (1924–1994). 

The exhibition presents a rare visual chronicle of one of Bangladesh's greatest treasures, Sultan, spanning from his reclusive days in his village home in Machimdia, Narail, to his later years. Photographs, letters—many never previously seen—allow viewers to step quietly into the private world of a man who preferred to live through his paintings, labour, imagination, and solitude. 

Walking through the exhibition, I felt the patient eye of Nasir Ali Mamun guiding me through Sultan's universe. Mamun befriended the introspective painter and, by blending his life with his, his pursuit was nothing short of devotion. From 1977 to 1986, he shadowed the elusive painter, often invisible, observing the rhythms of his life with patience, sensitivity, and reverence. Each photograph is a meditation: Sultan at work, brush in hand; Sultan with cats perched quietly on his lap; Sultan seated with his famous flute, contemplating the melodies of his mind; Sultan in conversation with children or moving through the bazar of Narail, his presence commanding yet intimate. The ordinary and the extraordinary coexisted seamlessly, framed by Mamun's lens.

The artist's home in Narail emerges as more than a backdrop; it is a character in itself. The lone, rundown building, dense shrubs, winding paths, the flicker of domestic animals—all coalesce into a living stage where Sultan's essence unfolds. 

Mamun's photographs never interrupt the scene with artificiality; there is no contrived lighting, no posed performance. Instead, a slow, deliberate observation captures the painter in states of quiet reverie, intoxicated not with indulgence but with the labour of creation. Each frame whispers of solitude and empathy, the silent rhythm of a life attuned to the world's smallest wonders—the gaze of a child, the curve of a cat's back, the sway of a tree in the wind.

Sultan's art was inseparable from his philosophy. The farmers in his paintings are muscular and resilient, forged in adversity yet dignified, their strength a tribute to centuries of labour. Women's labour is celebrated equally, their beauty intertwined with perseverance and survival. His love extended beyond humanity to the forests, animals, and even the smallest creatures, all deserve life, all deserve respect. Through Mamun's photographs, this universality becomes tangible. We see Sultan listening to the rustle of leaves, sharing food with hungry animals, understanding the pulse of the earth—a profound humanism quietly inscribed in every frame.

The exhibition is more than documentation; it is an intimate dialogue between the artist and photographer, the observer and the observed. 

Black-and-white silhouettes of the cloistered visionary who turned seclusion into splendour deepen this narrative, revealing Sultan's humour, his melancholy, and his contemplative gaze. It becomes clear that the revered photographer's eye was not only technical but profoundly empathetic; he sought to reveal the soul behind the brushstrokes, the humanity behind the legend. Over ten years, he captured moments that seemed almost impossible—Sultan's fleeting expressions, the subtleties of his gestures, the interplay of light and shadow in his rural sanctuary.

Among the images, I lingered on the simple yet extraordinary: Sultan at play with cats, Sultan teaching, painting amongst children and amidst croplands, as if it were the most natural thing to do; the curve of his beloved flute held in thought. 

The bazar scenes hum with the vitality of village life, the ordinary elevated into art through Mamun's lens. Each photograph radiates quiet contemplation and reverence, inviting the viewer to slow down, to breathe, to witness. Sultan's life, captured so tenderly, reminds us that true creativity thrives in solitude and devotion, that greatness does not require applause but patience, insight, and empathy.

"'Shotoborshe Sultan' is a rare privilege. It presents the painter not as a myth but as a living, breathing presence. Mamun's lens bridges the gap between the public and the private, illuminating the artist's philosophy, discipline, and joy in creation. The exhibition offers an immersive experience, a visual poetry in which labour, imagination, and love intersect. Here, we encounter a man whose world is intimate yet universal, whose vision was at once personal and enduringly human," said HSBC Bangladesh CEO Mahbub ur Rahman.

As I exited the hall, the images lingered: the serenity of Narail fields, the quiet dignity of the farmers, the small domestic rituals, the painter immersed in thought and work. Mamun's decade-long endeavour has preserved these ephemeral moments for eternity, reminding us that the power of art is not only in the creation but in the eye that sees and the heart that understands.

Nasir Ali Mamun reflected on his own journey at the exhibition. "I am grateful to both the Bengal Foundation and Mahbubur Rahman for this opportunity. Welcome to Sultan's life and garden. In many ways, this exhibition is my autobiography. This bohemian painter was elusive—capturing SM Sultan in my camera was nearly impossible. I spent more than ten years pursuing glimpses of him, moments that unfolded like fiction, like drama. Today, we celebrate the centenary of this enigmatic bohemian."

Through Mamun's lens, Sultan's silent genius and vast humanity unfurl like whispered secrets of the world, each frame a meditation on patience, empathy, and unwavering devotion. "Shotoborshe Sultan" lingers in the soul, a quiet testament that true art blooms not in spectacle, but in the hushed intimacy of witnessing, echoing eternally long after the applause has faded.

The exhibition will be open to the public from Monday to Saturday, 4 pm to 8 pm, continuing until September 27 at Bengal Shilpalaya.