Hamama Tul Bushra’s journey into art doesn’t follow a straight line, it moves between Lahore and the United States and between archives and studios.
Trained as a graphic designer at the National College of Arts (NCA) in Lahore, she went on to pursue a Master’s in Art History at the University of Missouri, Kansas City, where her research brought her close to the intricate world of Mughal manuscripts. Her thesis explored pages from the Gulshan Muraqqa (a richly illustrated 17th-century Mughal album combining portraiture, calligraphy, and miniature painting) at the Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art, and she worked alongside curators on exhibitions such as Echoes: Islamic Art and Contemporary Artists and Roads of Arabia: Archaeology and History of the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia.
But while her academic path deepened, something else began unfolding in parallel. During the early Covid years, Bushra returned to painting with renewed urgency. What emerged wasn’t a departure from her training, but a distillation of it, a visual language shaped by design, history, and memory.
At the centre of her practice is the woman, reimagined not as symbol or subject, but as presence. Her figures are bold, stylised, and unapologetic, rendered in vibrant colour that feels less like decoration and more like declaration. In Bushra’s world, femininity is not softened for interpretation; it is amplified, self-possessed, and fully in charge of its own narrative.
Her work has appeared in publications such as Epiphany, Homegrown, and BornnBrewed, and she has participated in exhibitions and workshops across Pakistan, the United States, and Europe, including a South Asian unity workshop in Stockholm in 2025 exploring Partition narratives through a contemporary lens. And yet, her relationship with art began long before all of this, not in galleries, but at home in Lahore, where creativity was an everyday conversation…
Bushra, your academic work focused on Mughal manuscripts, particularly the Gulshan Muraqqa. Did engaging so closely with historical works influence your visual language or way of thinking about art?
My research on Mughal paintings opened up an entirely new world for me. It grounded me in my roots and helped me re-establish my identity as a South Asian artist. It also shifted my focus away from Western art toward Asian aesthetics. Gaining a deeper understanding of our material culture and the processes behind it broadened my perspective and created new possibilities for exploration and expression in my work.
You returned to painting during the isolation of 2020. What did that moment uncover for you?
Before the pandemic, I was primarily focused on my academic work, but Covid became a life-changing period for me, both personally and creatively. The isolation allowed me to turn inward, to better understand myself, hear my own voice more clearly, and rediscover who I am. It helped me form a new relationship with myself.
At the same time, the immediacy of social media exposed me to global events, and I developed a growing interest in politics. However, the divisive narratives and social injustices I witnessed began to affect my mental well-being. I found myself trying to process a complex and often devastating reality. Art became the most immediate and accessible way for me to make sense of these emotions.
Your work centres women as powerful, complex, and unapologetic figures. What drew you to make women your primary subject?
During my isolation, I was deeply moved by women taking to the streets in the US for the Women’s March, and at the same time, the Aurat March in Pakistan gave me a profound sense of hope. Seeing Pakistani women raise their voices for equality was powerful and reassuring. Having grown up during the years shaped by Zia-ul-Haq’s dictatorship, I witnessed its lasting impact, particularly on women. It became clear to me that, across cultures, those perceived as “weaker” are often controlled by those in power. So, seeing women stand together, brave, unapologetic, and united was extraordinary. These women became my heroes, embodying a strength that I deeply admire and seek to represent in my work.
There’s a strong sense of ownership and identity in your work. How do you explore these ideas through form, colour, and composition?
I embrace my identity as a woman and celebrate it openly. Living abroad expanded my understanding of culture and heritage, allowing me to observe my own society from a distance. The Covid period gave me the space to process these observations more deeply. Historically, we have had women who were leaders, fighters, and heroes, figures who maintained their femininity while asserting their strength, but we have often failed to fully acknowledge them. I aim to reclaim and highlight that legacy.
My approach to form and colour is informed by my background in graphic design, where both elements are equally important. Through them, I express a strong sense of ownership and the assertion of identity, which remains central to my work.
Your use of bold, bright colour feels like a statement in itself. What role does colour play in expressing freedom and defiance in your paintings?
Colour, for me, carries its own language and emotional weight. The bold, bright, and primary colours in my work act as metaphors for freedom, autonomy, and identity. They serve as a visual declaration, asserting individuality while rejecting societal expectations and constraints. These striking hues also celebrate women’s resilience and independence. At the same time, the flat and direct application of primary colours connects my work to traditional South Asian art, bringing it closer to our cultural roots and ancestral practices.
Your work also challenges traditional representations of women. What kinds of narratives are you most interested in questioning or dismantling?
My work challenges conventional representations of women, those confined to roles such as mother, sister, wife, daughter, or lover, as defined by society, religion, and culture. I question these limitations and assert that women are individuals with the right to live and express themselves freely.
My subjects often resist social norms, it is reflected in their body language, emphasized by the way they sit or stand with confidence and self-assurance or through unconventional dress. They often express contentment in solitude, challenging the idea that fulfillment depends on partnership. As a mother of two daughters, I am deeply invested in imagining a safer, more progressive future, one in which women are represented in their full potential and complexity.
Your art has been featured across journals, magazines, and exhibitions. How do you see your practice evolving at this stage in your career?
Art, for me, is a continuous process of evolution. An artist should always remain open to learning and growth. My experiences will naturally guide me into the next phase of my practice. As long as I remain aware, receptive, and sensitive to both myself and my surroundings, that evolution will continue even if I cannot predict exactly where it will lead.
What does success look like to you as an artist today?
Success, to me, is freedom…the freedom to paint and express without fear or expectation. Reaching a place where I am no longer constrained by doubt or external pressures is, in itself, success.
Header image: Hamama Tul Bushra