The Great Reveal: Spectral Imprints Pt 1, Raed Yassin and Taysir Batniji

The projects from the 2012 Abraaj Capital Art Prize winners have been revealed at Art Dubai.  Since I couldn’t make it, I’m reliant upon what’s coming up online to feed my curiosity.  Thankfully, there are some great resources this year and I have been able to find some information and images.  I will be sharing these works over the next week as I try to find more images and context to the works.

Spectral Imprints

Curator Nat Muller had a vision of  curatorial unification of the collective works of the winning ACAP artists for the first time in ACAP history.   Spectral Imprints focuses “on the preoccupations the five projects share with narrating the past and the difficulties of representing something tangible of a moment in time.” (ACAP)  I’m looking forward to seeing the catalog produced by Muller in collaboration with renowned designer Huda Abi Smitshuijzen Fares, Director of the Khatt Foundation, Center for Arabic Typography, The Netherlands.  I’m sure it will explore this connection more deeply.

Raed Yassin, China

Now, everything we use is produced in China, it’s the place you produce everything for the whole world, so why not reproduce my Lebanese Civil War there too? And then it will be like a mass-produced item that everybody could have in their homes and then maybe we could come to a point where we are fine with the issue. (Disposable Memories)

Like Ibn Battuta before him, Yassin traveled to China to explore, examine, and document, and the end result is China.    In the city Jingdezhen (China’s capital of porcelain) he worked with master artists to render key battles of the Lebanese civil war, amongst  them, War of the Hotels (1975-1976), the Battle for Tal al-Zaatar (1976), the Israeli invasion of Beirut (1982) and the so-called War of Liberation (1989), creating 7 vases in total.   The battles were all monumental in shaping the Lebanon of today in more ways than one, and that ongoing element, no beginning or perhaps more importantly to Yassin, no end-point, is reflected in the infinite roundness of the objects.

After extensive research and interviewing, as well as viewing archives of historical photographs, Yassin commissioned Beirut artist and cartoonist Omar Khoury to create the initial depictions of the battle scenes that would later be  interpreted and executed on porcelain by Chinese master artists.  The name of each battle is written on each vase in Chinese, along the with the name of the master and his stamp.

Image Source: Ibraaz interview Disposable Memories. Click the image to see more images and read the full interview with Raed Yassin and Nat Muller.

As usual, this project has strong elements of collaboration and exploration of the boundaries of creativity/creation/thought:

“Another layer of the project was that I didn’t want to do it myself. I wanted to commission [craftsmen] to do it, to work with masters of different cultures to see how they perceived an idea that they have nothing to do with, a war that’s not theirs, a country that they really don’t know.”

Read more about the ideas, design, and production of these pieces in Lebanon’s The Daily Star’s Reducing Civil War to Porcelain.

I find it quite interesting to mix history, craftmanship, collaboration, and collective memory with mass production, consumption, and decorative items to think through what it might take to smash through the past, freeing up that energy to tackle other issues that could shape a much different future.

Taysir Batniji, To My Brother

In 1987,  Taysir Batniji’s brother was killed by a sniper in the First Palestinian Intifada.  Just two years earlier, he had celebrated this same brother’s wedding in Gaza.  These images, 60 inkless prints,  depict those happier times.   While discussing his work in an interview with the UAE’s Art In the City, he shared that his work revolves around themes of disappearance and displacement, fluctuating between global/big picture issues while staying close to his heart and personal experiences.

To My Brother is a fragile and poetic work which requires an intimate relationship with the viewer: stand too far away and the drawings appear as blank sheets of paper, stand closer and you will be able to trace the contours of the human shapes inhabiting these drawings, the artist’s memories, and the thin lines between an ephemeral presence and a permanent absence. Stand closer and you will be able to discern that Batniji has left out certain details, or has emphasized others. As the title indicates, this series is a dedication to Batniji’s late brother Mayssara and a commemoration of his untimely death. However, this very personal history ties into a wider political context of strife in the Middle East, and shows how personal experiences ultimately, in some way or other, become part of a collective narrative.”  (Abraaj Capital Art Prize)

‘Speaking about his inspiration for the execution project, Batniji refers back to the fact that hours before his death, his brother had made some drawings on a sketch pad of Batniji’s which had then been erased.  The faint impressions remained though, as a last trace of his brother.  Much of the artist’s work has dealt with the idea of disappearance and how we can relate this ephemeral experience, and this is perhaps his most intimate artistic exploration of this concern.’  (Art in the City)

Images:  Abraaj Captial Art Prize

Up Next

Projects by Risham Syed, Wael Shawky, and Khalil Joreige and Joana Hadjithomas.

Art Dubai Dispatch #1: Be A Know-It-All With The Daily Canvas Guide

If you think you can’t enjoy Art Dubai because you couldn’t make it to Dubai this year, think again.  Thanks to social media and prolific publishing, we can all participate in one of Gulf’s most exciting art events.

My favorite published piece coming out of Dubai is Canvas Daily.  These mini-magazines are great reading with high quality images of select art works, summations of daily art sales, interviews with persons-of-interest, and short stories related to participants, events, and artists.

With so many things going on at Art Dubai and for Art Week, the Canvas Guide makes it all a bit more accessible by wrapping it up in a neat little consumable package, enabling visitors and spectators alike to get a mental grip on a massive event with many moving parts.

The guide is posted online daily throughout the event.

Note:  Images are links to the downloadable PDF

Daily Canvas  One

Highlights Include:  Interviews with Art Dubai director Antonia Carver and Global Art Forum 6 leader, Shumon Basar.   It also includes overviews of some other Dubai Art Week events like Design Days and the Sikka Art Fair.

Daily Canvas Two

Highlights:   Overview of Indonesian Art in the Marker programming, a look at Art Dubai’s Artists in Residence, an interview with gallerist Chantal Crousel on her video art exhibition, and an overview of Performance Art at Art Dubai, including Carlos Celdran’s work Livin la vida Imelda.

Daily Canvas Three

Highlights:  Wow!  This is a GOOD one…I found the reading brief, but meaty and substantial.    Great reading on the India art market, including insights on the museums, contemporary and modern master artists, and art fairs of India,  a spotlight on Saudi Art, an interview with the super awesome Chinese artist Zhang Huan (love his work!) and curatorial insight on select works by Curators Sam Bardaouil and Till Fellrath.

Daily Canvas Four

Highlights:  Art and the Arab Spring.

Canvas guides are available in print at Art Dubai, or online, in both Arabic and English:

http://www.canvasonline.com/canvasdaily.htm

 Happy Reading!

We Must….

International Women’s (Week) at Art Luvah: Women of the Middle Eastern Art World….#3 Negar Azimi

I’ve been following Negar Azimi since 2006, one year after I returned home from a three-week driving tour of  the Islamic Republic of Iran with a group of 13 other students and travelers.

During one of our long bus rides from one city to the next, my professor/our guide and Iran expert Jerry Dekker, regaled us with stories about his time in Iran, and history beyond the history books.  He told us about the Shah’s extravagant 2,500-year anniversary party at Persepolis in 1971, celebrating the long history of  the Persian empire.  Professor Dekker also mentioned that Persepolis had been the site for an annual avant-garde art and performance event, Shiraz Festival of the Arts created by Empress Farah Diba Pahlavi, in 1966.

Upon my return to the USA, and in the comfort of my own home, I started googling  Shiraz Festival of the Arts, but I found very little in English that I could go on.  I’m sure it comes as no surprise that it is difficult, even in the best Public Library, to find relevant and timely information on Middle Eastern artists/movements/history, which is why I believe publishing on the web is so important.

Almost a year later, I met an Iranian friend for coffee when I noticed the book he was reading, “My Sister, Guard Your Veil;  My Brother, Guard Your Eyes. Uncensored Iranian Voices“.  Inside, I found an essay by Negar Azimi, Don’t Cry For Me America, an essay on art in Iran, and the concept of “poornography“:

“…the circulation of images and ideas that tend to perpetuate the image of a victimized people.  Prominent amongst these ideas is the notion that Iran is sealed in a vaccum of repression, and therefore, that any art production emanating from within its bounds is a hysterical reaction to that reality, in other words, cry for us because our fates are so bad.”

Outside of Bidoun Magazine, where she is a senior editor, I had never seen a piece of writing like that.  Not only had she armed me with names, dates, and projects that yielded results from search engines, she alerted me to a way of thinking about Iran that seems to be a reflex among foreigners…oh, poor Iran!  I honestly believe that exposure to that idea really changed the way I think and opened my mind to the possibility of  seeing artistic production from the Middle East in a more unfettered way.  (The reflex doesn’t go away, but my awareness of it is a critical component of transcending past/present socialization that embed the poornographic perspective in my psyche.)

Azimi has studied at a Stanford, Harvard, and Columbia universities. She has been published in The New York Times/Magazine, The Nation, Harper’s, Frieze, and of course, Bidoun.  Whenever I see a fresh, witty perspective on the Middle East surface in the mainstream media, it is often Azizi’s work.  She has been prolifically using her fancy education, sharp prose, and images from the Middle East to get something much needed in the mainstream media:  perspective.

Projects

In addition to her writing work, she is also a curator, frequent speaker on Middle Eastern art and politics, and is a member of the Arab Image Foundation.

The Arab Image Foundation is a non-profit organization established in Beirut in 1997. The Foundation’s mission is to collect, preserve and study photographs from the Middle East, North Africa and the Arab diaspora. The Foundation’s expanding collection is generated through artist and scholar-led projects. The Foundation makes its collection accessible to the public through a wide spectrum of activities, including exhibitions, publications, videos, a website and an online image database.  The ongoing research and acquisition of photographs include so far Lebanon, Syria, Palestine, Jordan, Egypt, Morocco, Iraq, Iran, Mexico, Argentina and Senegal. To date, the collection holds more than 400,000 photographs. (Source: Arab Image Foundation)

Becoming Van Leo:  a work in progress

In conjunction with the Arab Image Foundation, Azimi curated the photography exhibition Becoming Van Leo, on the work of the  Armenian/Egyptian photographer Van Leo, a work in progress since at least 2002, when it showed at the Townhouse Gallery in Cairo.   The last exhibition, in November 2011, was organized as a part of the International Art Programme in Amsterdam of the Prince Claus Fund and the Amsterdam Fund for the Arts, curated by Azimi and Karl Bassil, Arab Image Foundation.

Image Credit: T is for Trout

Bidoun Library

Map of the Bidoun Library at Tensta Konsthall


The Bidoun Library, founded in 2009 by Bidoun Projects, is a mobile library consisting of books, magazines and other printed matter.  If you ever have the chance to see this, I highly recommend it!

Since the turn of the last century, the term “Middle East,” which was coined in the West, has existed more as a subject for discussion and study than a geographical area. Bidoun Library is an attempt to survey this territory through its printed matter. Books, magazines and other materials are treated as objects in which complex and historical facts and ambitions meet. They are not amongst the most representative or refined objects from the Middle East—they are cheaper and more perishable. Bidoun Library acquires a new form everywhere it stops. (Source:  Bidoun Projects)

Here, Negar Azimi and fellow Bidoun-er Babak Radboy discuss with CNN collecting materials for the library, and the latest issue of Bidoun (#25-a special report about the revolution)  in Cairo over the summer of 2011.

Writings

To put it simply, Negar Azimi writes things that I want to read.  She’s highly intelligent, obviously clever, knowledgeable on art and politics, and she wraps it up with outstanding storytelling.  It’s understandable why her work is published in the world’s leading publications, and I’m so thankful that it is.

 Introduction to the article: The Egyptian revolution is over, the army wields power and the new government is in disarray. Tensions between Christians and Muslims are ascendant and members of the elite are leaving the country in droves while those who remain bemoan the masses as ignorant ideologues. This is the Egypt of Waguih Ghali’s “Beer in the Snooker Club,” a coming-of-age novel set in 1952 that, much like “The Catcher in the Rye” in America, articulated the identity crisis of a generation. Ghali’s characters — young, precocious, cosmopolitan — are lost in the bewildering aftermath of the military coup that overthrew the pliant boy-king Farouk. They pine for the easeful gambling, womanizing and drinking of the past even as they scorn both the ancien régime’s sordid pretensions and the new regime’s inability to deliver on its vaulted promises; “We have the worst of both systems,” one of them declares, exasperated. Ghali, who published his novel in 1964 and committed suicide five years later in the bathtub of his British editor’s Primrose Hill apartment, took the fall of the monarchy as his subject. Still, his tale presents uncanny parallels to today’s Egypt, where artists, intellectuals and youth at large are beginning to fashion a new cultural republic of sorts even as they also struggle to find their bearings.  Keep reading……

Introduction to the article: The first time I met Ayman, he insisted on picking me up in his shiny black Chevrolet sedan outside the King of Shrimp, a popular fish restaurant in the Cairo neighborhood of Shobra. It was April, and he had just returned from Berlin, where he attended a conference on tourism (“the world’s biggest”) for his job. A brand new “I Love Berlin” key chain dangled from his rearview mirror. Also dangling was a small metallic cross, along with “I Love London” and, of course, “I Love New York.” As a procurement manager at a multinational company, he travels a great deal. “I have a busy passport,” he told me during that first meeting, handing me his overfull visa pages to inspect. Keeping reading…..

Introduction to the article:  The Egyptian entrepreneur Ahmed Abu Haiba isn’t having a good day. A Saudi columnist has accused him of corrupting the country’s youth. A music video he has been working on for months is behind schedule. He hasn’t had time to prepare for his weekly talk show, an Islamo-Egyptian version of “Dr. Phil.” Worse, one of the program’s financiers has become upset because there was to be a woman on the show — unchaste behavior, to some. We’re driving along Sheik Zayed Road in the desert outside Cairo on a bright day as the radio plays Sami Yusuf, a saccharine-sweet Muslim pop star based in London. Abu Haiba theatrically throws his arms in the air to perform his frustration. At the age of 42 he is tubby and, as a sign of his deep faith, has a large zabiba — a dark smudge on his forehead born of rubbing his head repeatedly on a prayer mat. And yet he is not a conventional man and certainly not a conventional Muslim. Today he looks more like a hip-hop mogul, with a black knit golf cap on backward and a suit of all black. And a pink tie.  Keep Reading…..

Teaser from the article: Like many Iranians of his generation, Ganji was at one time an ardent follower of the late Ali Shariati, a fiery and charismatic figure who put forward a reading of Shiism that evoked Marxism and shades of revolutionary Third Worldism. Shariati flourished in the heady climate of early 1960s Paris, as France’s turbulent war with its Algerian colony raged. He collaborated with the Algerian National Liberation Front in its revolutionary struggle, was coddled by Marxist scholars, translated Sartre into Farsi and cavorted with Frantz Fanon. He returned to Iran in 1965 and soon thereafter began delivering rousing lectures to budding revolutionaries at Husseinieh-e Ershad, a blue-domed religious institute in central Tehran that has since become inextricably tied to Shariati’s image. Shiism, Shariati told his listeners, has a core set of values that stands to resolve many of society’s ills. He distinguished this original Shiism from the pernicious faith he saw propagated by the clerics around him, what he contemptuously referred to as “Safavid Shiism,” after the Safavids, who established Shiism as Iran’s state religion in the sixteenth century. Cassettes of Shariati’s lectures were distributed en masse, and Shariati, inadvertently or not, became a primary intellectual architect of the Islamic revolution to come.  Keep reading…..

Teaser from the article:  But still, something has changed when it comes to contemporary art’s preoccupation with the political – especially when it is produced in the West. It is more topically driven, more blithely anti-hegemonic and more consensus-driven. It is often borne of an idea rather than a lived reality. The stakes have changed, too; there is no draft now in most countries, or (again, in the West), no war and destruction at home or no aids crisis for that matter (if you’re able to afford antiretrovirals). This has managed to create a comfortable distance between politics as manifest in social relations involving authority and power – as a site of real, live action – and politics as a site of performance. Instead of marching to war or even marching in a demonstration, we perform our political credentials in a variety of ways: by how we vote (Democrat), what we wear (green ribbons in solidarity with Iranians), how we shop (Fair Trade), the causes we write cheques for (gay rights in Zimbabwe?) – and by the kind of art we consume (‘engaged’).  Keep reading…..


Negar Azimi: Brooklyn or Manhattan?

Maya Arulpragasam:  Brooklyn.

NA:  Bill Cosby or Yasser Arafat?

M.I.A.: Yasser Arafat.

NA: Dodi or Princess Di?

M.I.A.: Princess Di. You know, I predicted her death.

NA: No!

M.I.A.: On the day she died, I went to this party and fell asleep at my friend’s house. I woke up at four in the morning and I’d dreamt that I was on a motorbike and I was getting chased by all these people and then I crashed, and it was, like, loads of people trying to take photos of me and stuff. The whole thing was the same except for—instead of Princess Diana, it was me. And I woke up and I said, “Oh, my God, I just had a dream that I died!” And we were, like, well that’s crazy, and I told my sister, she was there, too, and then we all went back to sleep. Four or five hours later we woke up and the first thing we heard on the radio was about Princess Di.

NA: That’s insane.

Keep reading….

Teaser from the article:  Like Bon Jovi, Margaret Thatcher, and Don Johnson, the Iron Sheik is a product of the 1980s. The 80s were his decade, his coming out, his alpha and his omega. On December 26, 1983, not three years after the release of the last of the American hostages in Tehran, an Iranian would take home the crown jewel of the wrestling world in a title bout that would change the sport of wrestling forever. It took all of ten minutes. The Sheik slammed, suplexed, clotheslined, pinned, washed and dried six-time reigning world champion Bob “Howdy Doody” Backlund until his manager threw in the towel, leaving the former champion splayed out motionless on the sweat-drenched mat. “Victory!” cried the Sheik’s manager, “Classy” Freddie Blassie, as he leapt up into the ring. The audience was aghast. It was the dawning of a weird and occasionally twisted age that wrestling’s most ardent fans still refer to as “the golden era.”  Keep reading…..

Note:  Though this interview is from 2006, it still provides useful insight on Negar Azimi and Bidoun Magazine.  Keeping reading…..

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