Where Art Meets Espresso: Picasso Art House Cafe

Sham Diyar

Right next to Pak City, amidst the bustling buildings and shops, one establishment stands out despite its small size. The House of Picasso, adorned with a wooden structure and colorful letters, captures attention. Stepping inside, one is greeted by a space adorned with abstract canvases, bathed in the warm glow of dim yellow lighting that complements the paintings. Mr. Alan, the owner of this unique coffee shop, is the artistic force behind the creative ambiance.

Upon entering the coffee shop, three elements immediately draw my attention. The subtle tones of Iranian music form a melodic backdrop, alongside Mr. Alan immersed in the creation of his latest painting, catching my eyes. Simultaneously, his distinctive outfit piques curiosity, setting the stage for my questions.

As Mr. Alan prepares espresso for us, we settle at a small, intricately painted table. Our conversation naturally gravitates toward the central theme of art. Mr. Alan eloquently ties every subject back to his profound connection with art, detailing the impact it has on him and the societal challenges he faces in pursuit of his unique lifestyle and mindset. It becomes evident that the essence of our dialogue lies in unraveling the complexities of his struggles and the profound ways in which art influences his life.

I delve into the motivations behind the fusion of art and coffee in Mr. Alan’s creative haven. His response unveils a compelling narrative, shedding light on the journey that led him to this unique combination.

His artistic endeavors faced familial resistance; his family, unsupportive of his passion, left him yearning for a space to showcase his creations and paint undisturbed. The need for solace in the pursuit of his art coincided with another aspect of his identity – a profound love for coffee. As he makes us the first shot of espresso for the day, he reveals that, in part, this was a self-serving decision. Mr. Alan, being an avid coffee enthusiast, acquired large espresso machines to cater to his own coffee cravings.

Initially, the space he cultivated was not a coffee shop; it was a personal sanctuary. The espresso machines, symbolic of his dual love for art and coffee, became an integral part of this unconventional house. Mr. Alan transformed his surroundings into an extension of his artistic expression, adorning every nook and cranny with his distinctive paintings. What began as a quest for a quiet haven to create art evolved into the House of Picasso, a realm where art and coffee seamlessly merge.

Upon perceiving Mr. Alan’s art, one is immediately struck by its predominantly abstract nature. However, delving into conversation with him unveils a fascinating layer to his creative process. He explains that the source of inspiration for almost all his works lies in people and their experiences.

This marks the intriguing origin of his coffee shop. Mr. Alan draws a connection between his need for people as a source of inspiration and the reciprocated admiration for his art and coffee from visitors. It’s at this juncture that he made an essential decision, to transform his personal sanctuary into a coffee shop, a space where both sides gain something valuable. He muses, “People always ask me why I do not make this place bigger or open other branches. I always reply the same: this is not a coffee shop; it’s a house.”

In this statement, Mr. Alan captures the essence of his establishment. It’s not merely a commercial enterprise; it’s an intimate space where art, coffee, and people converge in a symbiotic relationship. The House of Picasso, as he sees it, transcends the conventional notion of a coffee shop, embodying the warmth and familiarity of a home where people have meaningful conversations.

One notable observation during our conversation was Mr. Alan’s distinctive outfit, a departure from the conventional clothing worn by most. His fashion sense, much like the ambiance of his coffee shop, displays vibrant colors, aligning seamlessly with the personality of the place itself. Intrigued by his unique style, I inquire about his approach to fashion and how it influences him. In response, he shares, “I pick my outfits as a way for self-expression.” Mr. Alan delves into the profound connection between his style and his emotional state, emphasizing that his choice of attire serves as an external manifestation of his internal feelings. Notably, a constant in his ensemble is an empty wristwatch, a deliberate accessory that holds dual significance in his life. Explaining the perpetual presence of the watch, he remarks, “My main reason for it is because I have so much respect for time. I believe that people should be aware of time at every instance, regardless of whether they wear a watch or not.” Beyond a personal philosophy, his watch serves as a means of evaluating those around him. “Some people genuinely get irritated by my watch. They even tease me by asking for the time, assuming I wouldn’t know, I know,” he shares. For Mr. Alan, this irritation becomes a gauge, a measure of someone’s disposition towards art and time. To him, individuals who respect both art and time won’t feel the need to mock his watch and unique style.

His reflection on personal freedom and expression extends beyond fashion. “I don’t understand why people don’t have the freedom to choose what they feel like dressing. From childhood, our parents restrict the clothes we want to wear and decide on something that is supposed to be personal and unique to each individual,” he expresses. In his view, this restriction on self-expression clashes with the ethos of his establishment, which advocates for freedom of expression and the intimate connection between art and the self.

“To me, self-expression and art go hand in hand. Art is simply the act of expressing oneself,” he concludes, encapsulating the profound intersection of personal style and freedom of expression.

Delving into the realms of philosophy, a domain that Mr. Alan frequently gravitates toward in our conversations, Mr. Alan contemplated the nature of the self, offering a unique perspective on what defines it, at least according to him. “I believe the way we express and interpret art is what differentiates oneself from another.”

Initially, as he unraveled these thoughts, the connection between his musings on self-expression and his earlier discussions seemed elusive. However, upon revisiting the recordings, a cohesive message emerged to me. Mr. Alan aimed to explain that our authentic selves are distinguished by the myriad ways we express our artistic visions. This extends beyond the canvas, encompassing various facets of life: fashion, home decor, musical preferences, and even our emotional response to weather.

He eloquently expressed, “What we notice in the weather is all a different artistic vision… how it makes us feel is different and unique.” Whether it be the comforting warmth of the sun, the gentle patter of rain, or the crisp bite of a winter breeze, each weather phenomenon becomes a canvas of thoughts and ideas upon which our unique artistic visions unfold. Yet, one can sense his disappointment when discussing that matter. Mr. Alan laments the societal inclination to impose limitations on the freedom of expressing these artistic visions. It’s a sentiment born out of his belief that embracing and celebrating individuality in artistic expression fosters a richer, more vibrant society. In his view, the House of Picasso stands as a testament to the rejection of such constraints, a space where the diverse tapestry of artistic visions is not only acknowledged but celebrated.

Expanding and learning about practical art was a struggle back then in the 90s. Mr. Alan and his friends would join art groups that worked with charcoal, often resorting to taking the leftovers to secluded spots to begin drawing. He never received a formal education in art. “What I learned, I learned on my own.”

Following the completion of his second espresso for the day, Mr. Alan graciously shared insights into his early entry into the world of art, a journey that commenced during his childhood. Reflecting on the backdrop of the 90s, he vividly painted a picture of a time when art classes were a rarity and resources were scarce. “We were allotted one pencil, primarily for note-taking,” he reminisced, highlighting a stark contrast to the plethora of art supplies available today.

However, the limited pencil designated for note-taking proved insufficient to quell his burgeoning artistic inclination. “I found myself using it more for drawing than writing notes,” he chuckled, revealing a youthful defiance against conventional usage. Nevertheless, this artistic pursuit came with a caveat. His teacher, perhaps foreseeing the imminent demise of the solitary pencil, cautioned him, “This pencil won’t last you a week if you keep on drawing with it.” Undeterred, Mr. Alan persisted in his early focus primarily on sketching people. “I often found myself depicting scenes from the school, like the two boys fighting in the hall,” he recalled, a testament to his early fascination with capturing human dynamics and interactions.

The journey of learning art presented its own set of difficulties for Mr. Alan, but his challenges did not end there. “I had to sacrifice many relationships to pursue my art, including those within my own family,” he confided, revealing the painful toll his artistic passion took on his personal relationships. Unfortunately, his family did not offer the support he sought in his artistic pursuits. “But to me, it was worth it. I would choose my art over anything else, even if it meant distancing myself from my own family.”

In the subsequent years, a positive shift occurred. He added that his relationship with his family is good now, a sense of reconciliation evident in his words. Remarkably, his mother has come to appreciate his artworks. However, this newfound harmony does not erase the lingering regret. Mr. Alan reflects, “I wish that I hadn’t strained my relationship with them to pursue something that I love.”

The complexities of balancing personal passion with familial bonds encapsulate the sacrifices Mr. Alan made in the pursuit of his artistic journey. The evolving dynamics with his family serve as a testament to the resilience of both familial ties and the transformative power of art, yet it also showcases how negatively some individuals perceive artistic pursuits.

As our conversation unfolded, Mr. Alan graciously extended an offer for another shot of espresso. Despite my inclination, I had to decline, but he proceeded to indulge in his third of the day. “I drink up to 25 espressos a day. Why do you think I got this big espresso machine solely for myself?” he quipped, harking back to the origins of the House of Picasso when it was primarily a personal haven rather than a bustling coffee shop.

The interview unfolded against a backdrop of intermittent requests for coffee. Two individuals urgently sought their caffeine fix, emphasizing their time constraints. Despite their haste, Mr. Alan exhibited a deliberate pace in crafting each cup. As the last customer departed, he gestured to his empty wristwatch, a tangible reminder of his philosophy on time. “People don’t have respect for time,” he remarked.

In response to my immediate query about the urgency of the patrons, he offered a perspective colored by his reverence for time. “If they had respect for time, they would’ve woken up sooner or driven here sooner,” he asserted. He then gestured toward the espresso-making process, highlighting the meticulous nature of crafting the perfect cup. “Espressos can’t be rushed. You need the right touch, with great pressing, for a rich, not-sour taste. If I rush it, it will turn out bad, and I don’t make bad coffee.”

In this exchange, Mr. Alan’s commitment to quality, both in his craft and in the appreciation of time, becomes palpable. The House of Picasso, in its evolution from a private sanctuary to a thriving coffee shop, retains the essence of these principles, where each espresso is not just a beverage but a carefully crafted experience.

As our conversation neared its conclusion, I shifted the focus to a distinction that intrigued me: art as a hobby versus art as a part of life or a lifestyle. Mr. Alan’s response resonated with a depth that mirrored the profound insights he had shared earlier.

“People who call art a hobby aren’t real artists. In other words, they aren’t being themselves,” he asserted with a sense of conviction. His perspective crystallized the notion that art transcends the confines of a mere pastime. “If you discover the world of art, everything will become art. You won’t just do art as a hobby; art isn’t a hobby.”

In these closing remarks, Mr. Alan encapsulated the essence of his artistic philosophy. For him, art is not confined to a specific category meant for leisure; it is an immersive journey that transforms the very fabric of existence. The distinction between hobbyists and true artists, according to his perspective, lies in the all-encompassing embrace of art as an integral and inseparable part of one’s identity. As the interview concluded, the lingering resonance of his words lingered, a powerful testament to the transformative potential of art when it ceases to be a hobby and instead becomes a vibrant tapestry woven into the fabric of life.