OWEN LINDSAY Has a chat with local arty type Humna Mustafa.
Humna Mustafa recently became an Australian citizen, and let me tell you: we won on that one. An intricate visual arteest who you’ve probably seen somewhere around the traps laying down henna, Humna came here from Pakistan five years ago without even knowing where Australia was on the map – and today, she’s exhibiting and generally in high demand across Adelaide. I caught up with Humna and chatted about henna (after I worked out what henna was), being an artist in SA, and why nothing beautiful can last forever.
Tell me where the henna thing started.
I’m actually a textile designer by education. And I got into henna the first time when I was two years old and my grandmother was painting everyone. And I was just one of those impatient kids at that age, and I went and started putting my finger in the bowl where the henna was. And she said “No no no, you have to wait for your turn!” By the age of 14, I had started painting henna on my neighbours.
I wanted to be a fashion designer, but [my parents] said no, it’s religiously wrong – because you have to touch the models and stuff. That wasn’t allowed. So I became a textile designer, and graduated as a textile sculptural artist. So I did that, and ran my own business back home with five people working for me.
So that was where I started. But then I got married, and my husband wanted to come to Australia. Because he had travelled around Europe and said that the best people he met were Australian, and that’s where he wanted to be!
As simple as that?
As simple as that. I didn’t even know where Australia was on the map. At maximum, you would have heard of Sydney, mayyybe Melbourne – but Adelaide? No way.
So whereabouts in Pakistan are you from?
Karachi. Do you know where that is?
(Interviewer stares blankly at Humna for several moments)
(laughs) Well I was born in Karachi, but I grew up in Abu Dhabi in the Middle East, which on the Gulf. It’s very religious, very Islamic, so you wear the scarf and all that sort
of stuff. It was very confined, and you don’t really get exposure to a lot of different other cultures. Especially because you’re in your circle and you think anyone who’s not from your religion will be
a bad influence.
Uhhu.
Anyway – that’s where I grew up. So when I came to Australia it was a huge culture shock. I didn’t understand the people. But the good thing I did was, I spent a lot of my time in the Botanic Gardens. A lot of my time. I think for about a year, I would just go and sit there.
…Just sit there?
Because I didn’t know anyone! And I was like, what do I do?? And the plants and trees were my only friends. And I was praying: I need humans! But how do you make friends? You need to go to pub, you need to drink – but I can’t, because I’m a Muslim.
I think about a year later, I got a job working at Woolworth’s as a checkout operator. That taught me English, and the confidence to talk to people. It was so good for me. And today, all my friends are my customers! They were people I served, and I would scan their groceries and say: ‘….So… would you like to come to my house?’ Because people here are really open. They’re not scared.
Um. What’s henna?
It’s a plant. It’s the leaves mainly, and it’s been used for hair dye – Did you know that?
(Interviewer stares blankly at Humna for several moments)
…Okay. I’ll go right back then. In really ancient times, henna was used by the Arabs. It was not used for beautification of the body, it was mainly used for medicine. When you apply henna to your skin and you take the paste off, it becomes like a sunscreen. So the traders that used to go into the desert used to apply it to their body – mainly the palms of their hands, the end of their feet and the top of their heads. And that would keep their blood pressure low, because it has a cooling agent in it.
Ahha.
Every region of the world that henna is part of, the patterns are totally different. The Moroccans are very angular, because it’s very mountainous there and they like to have the mountains in their art. The Indians would paint their gods, and they are extremely intricate. In the Middle East, these women were generally Muslim. So they would draw flower patterns – very big things. Very big, bold, and a lot of henna.

How do you knock together a batch of henna?
The leaves of the plants are dried – bone dry – and they crush it up really well into a very fine powder. Then you mix it in water, and… this is a very tricky bit. Every region of the world has their own recipe, so you never ask a henna artist what their recipe is.
Sorry!
It’s okay! But it’s as simple as that. It’s a personal discovery, and what they’ve connected with henna. So a lot of people look at it today and say” Oh, that’s really pretty” – but that wasn’t the ancient reason. It’s a very spiritual art. But – as everything else, it’s been polluted to the point where it’s just used for pretty things.
A lot of people come to me and say “Humna, it’s so pretty I want it to stay forever!” – and that’s a very different way of thinking to me. Because I think nothing’s forever.
And that’s part of the beauty.
Exactly. Because it’s meant to go. And again when you think about why the ancient people did it, it was to measure time. And it was just a symbolic way of not holding onto things. Letting go. So just because it’s pretty doesn’t mean it’s going to be with you forever. It has to move on. And you have to move on, too.
So what do you think about tattoos?
I knew you were going to ask that! I have started designing tattoos. After five years of saying ‘no’, I’ve decided I will design them. But because my patterns actually have a meaning, I’ll only design for people I want to have them. Not just people who say ‘Ok, I’m turning 16. I want a tattoo. Gimme a butterfly’. I wouldn’t do it.
Actually, you know what’s funny? (Often) when people would see my henna, they would think it’s a disease! They wouldn’t take money from my hand, because they think ‘Oh no, what’s wrong with you!’
Like a very pretty disease.
Yeah! Or a burn victim! But it’s not like this. Because it slowly fades away, it doesn’t go away in one go. It starts orange, and gradually goes brown-reddish colour. And then it goes backwards – to orange, then yellow… So people sometimes think I’m a smoker because my fingers look yellow.
What’s the process for your art? Do you have sketches, or go off the top of your head?
No! I’ve never planned anything in life. I choose not to ever again. I think planning is all to do with the head – whereas I choose to work with my heart. So I’ve been taught as a textile designer, but I choose to use my artist side more. Just because that gives me freedom, and there are no restrictions. The more I control, the more I spoil things. So I never plan.
What’s it like working in Adelaide?
When I landed here, I had no idea what I was doing. I didn’t know where to begin. But SALA was happening, so I got the SALA guide and got in contact with all the gallery owners. I sent about 400 or 500 emails, and one person replied. And that changed my life. She was the person who chooses people to work at WOMADedlaide – so she said ‘How about we pay you and you do henna for free?’ I worked two and a half days, starting 10 o’clock to 8 o’clock at night – no breaks at all. It was one of the most amazing experiences.
How about exhibiting in galleries?
I started going to galleries, but they wouldn’t take my work in because they didn’t understand what it was. They said, ‘Well, it’s not Australian, and it’s not European…’ It wasn’t anything they were familiar with. So I thought – well, this is ridiculous. I’ll just start exhibiting at home. So I did a whole exhibition in my backyard.
Oh yeah?
If you keep delaying it, and keep putting it off until you get in a gallery you’ll get disheartened. But now [galleries] have actually started sending me emails – they want my work.
Are you the only professional henna artist practicing in Adelaide?
I don’t know what the word professional means there. No. I think there are lot. But there is a difference. This might sound weird – I’ve taught henna before, but I found that a lot of the people I taught weren’t so interested in the artform. They were interested in how much money they could make out of it. And that is total bastardisation of my craft. So I just refused to share any more – so I stopped teaching. Only because it’s a very thin line between cultures, and it’s good that they’re becoming thinner. But I think it’s important to keep that line there because our identity is our culture – and if you lose that then you basically have no story to tell.
So I don’t know whether I’m a ‘henna artist’ or a ‘visual artist’. I just know I draw patterns, and henna is one of the mediums that I use, and I’m massively in love with it because it connects me to back home in some way.
