Artist's Statement

The art work in this website was divided into six categories: Orientalism, People of the Book / The Wandering Ishmael, Lebanese Linen, Semites, Stripes and Stars and Kul Shay/All Things. Click on the individual categories as they appear in the text below to get an overall view of the paintings.

New Works in Progress

Semites

Semites is a compilation of narrative portraits of Jews and Arabs hung in an installation setting. The life size portraits are done in pastels and charcoal that sit on scrolls against the wall. The narratives hang about 30 inches in front of the drawings on sheer fabric. The figures appear as ghosts speaking through a veil. When moving side to side the viewer gets a glimpse of the figure sans veil and will notice that they are showing off something related to their story as if it is show and tell time. Although the figures are covered, the texts act as confrontational barriers that shroud the figures. The relationship between the text and figure becomes a visual dance as we move back and forth to see from the position of affronted concealment to the position of revealed intimacy.

Stripes and Stars

Initially, I planned to layer various non-iconographic patterns to form conversation between cultural voices. This continues to be part of the plan but the events of September 11 gave me pause and I began to focus on two cultural designs in particular: the American flag and Islamic patterns. For me these two designs merged seamlessly in the aftermath of that tragedy. These abstract images both angered me and at the same time I felt bound to them. The Islamic design is a filter, a window or a screen with which to contextualize my view and experience of being an Arab American. The flag at times is expressing itself, too, feeling confined and moody as it ripples or is in shadow.

Painting Series of the Past Decade

Narrative and decoration that explore Middle Eastern diasporic identities and the legacy of colonialism are among the central themes in my work. Contemporary Arabic poetry and scenes merge with nineteenth century French painting and wallpaper designs to examine colonial relationships and how they have shaped perceptions of the Middle East. The Arab voice, often inchoate or silenced in the West, is expressed through the use of Arabic figures or text that are woven into the "background" patterns or suspended above them. My formal approach to these themes has been shaped by Islamic manuscripts, where design and calligraphy are one and the same, as well as by Western traditions. The parts exchange places as they form a visual vocabulary that can go between historical context and personal evocations. In this setting I can sort and layer the cacophony of voices describing the experience of exile as it crosses boundaries between cultural terrains.

The Orientalism paintings explore the visual language of European colonialism in the 19th century. The fabrics, largely borrowed from the Ottoman Empire by the French, are a cross-pollination between the European realist painting tradition and the perception of the exotic Orient. The landscapes above which these fabrics float pertain to the idea of homeland or "baladi" (an Arabic word that means the merging of place and culture).

People of the Book is a reference to the biblical children of Abraham. In these paintings I borrow from Eugene Delacroix's nineteenth century paintings and drawings of both Arabs and Jews. These images remind us that the histories of these two groups have been tightly interwoven and that, until this century, their relationship has more often than not been harmonious . The Watching Jacob series which began at the end of 1992 culminated in a large piece titled Watching Jacob 3 which has moving panels that glide over the image. I saw this as a way of allowing the viewer to gain perspective and experience subjectivity by cropping or framing the seminal narrative of Jacob wrestling with the angel. An unexpected but significant variation completely conceals the narrative, thus rendering the painting mute. This variation to some degree reflects the reality of being an Arab in Western society. The Wandering Ishmael is a new series of work in progress that more specifically details the reality of forced migrations and immgration of Arabs throughout Europe and the United States. Ishmael was the first son of Abraham and was banished with his mother Hagar because of the jealousy of Abraham's wife. Ishmaelite is a term that loosely describes the Arabs of the Middle East. In these paintings the use of a moving panel signifies travel more than the muting of voice. The Wandering Ishmael combines elements of orientalism and personal narrative to expressing an encompassing experience of immigration and history.

Many of the images in Lebanese Linen, originated with slides my grandfather took. They capture a close-knit family at the end of the 1960's, a "golden" period in Lebanon's history. In retrospect they are harbingers of the impending war and emigration. At the same time they are loving reminders of the complexities within families. The patterns act as veils between the viewers and the images to emphasize our inability to completely know or grasp the past. As the patterns tie all the parts together they also metamorphose from objects to air; from wrought iron to lacy arabesque. These paintings carry the traces and residues of the ancient past, the colonial past and the recent past. They speak of Roman ruins, of Islamic mosaics embedded into a Phoenician history, of the French decorative style so much embraced by the Lebanese, and of the layered, intertwined lives of a family on the precipice of a civil war.

Kul Shay- All Things: Images of Lebanon, Syria & Iran catalogues and articulates my Arabic inheritance and how I negotiate between several locations and contexts within the Middle East. These photographs and shadow box constructions are culled from a wide array of subjects, places and events during six months of living in Lebanon that included the onset of its political upheaval in early 2005. Specifically, these images are from our neighborhood in Beirut, family gatherings, the Palestinian refugee camp of Borj al Barajni, visits to Syria and a visit to several cities in Iran. It may be difficult to put your arms around this exhibit, yet its title of Kul Shay – which means “All Things” in Arabic – is an apt and convenient phrase that both excuses the inclusion of experiences and describes my feeling about Middle Eastern cultures as a mix of decorum, abundance and contradiction. Promulgating variety and a compulsion toward nurturing are the Arab traits that are most familiar to me and I was surprised to see them still deeply entrenched in the culture. My own background can best be described as a blend of regional cultures. I was born in Baghdad and grew up in Beirut before immigrating to the United States. My father was born in Egypt of Lebanese and Palestinian parents and my mother is from an idyllic town in the Mount Lebanon area. The much-beleaguered South Lebanon or Jnoub is where two of my grandparents came from and it is my ancestral home complete with great-grandmother’s Jamila’s stone house. For me, the Middle East is a cradle that rocks me or it is a pillow on which to rest my head. It is not strange or exotic. It is home.

Shadow Box Photo Constructions

The shadow box photo constructions create poetic realms and are free from the constraints of documenting place as evidence. These realms refer to a myriad of influences from Byzantine and Islamic art to storytelling and random playfulness. They couple images of place with symbols of domesticity such as teacups and kitchen tables. Other images include references to historical monuments, ancient landscapes and sea glass. Within some of these images the focus varies from “scenes” to "portraits" of individuals. Layering images expresses motifs associated with Arabic culture but more importantly they attempt to negotiate the meanings between personal, social and political contexts.

Themes Within “Kul Shay”

Decorum & Hospitality: Welcoming a guest or providing an inviting ambience for your family is deeply rooted in Arabic culture. Under some of the most dire and harsh circumstances coffee was served in tiny coffee cups seated on a tray lined with lace. Fortunes were read from the coffee grounds and “all things,” all conversations became possible. A stream of subjects could flow from these settings. My family and other families in Lebanon held on to their decorous ways during the civil war, sometimes having coffee under concrete staircases bunkered with sandbags. The Palestinian refugees continued the ritual of hospitality within their homes even if the narrow and disheveled alleys of the refugee camp tightened from the physician to the sanitation driver, Arabs go home to a cup of coffee and a welcoming family.

Palestinian Refugee Camps: In 2002 we linked with friends whose origins are Palestinian and were born and raised in refugee camps in northern Lebanon. I became resolute in seeking the intimacies of domestic space within the camp. I had this mission in mind in 2005. In the Borj Al Barajni refugee camp in Southwest Beirut I found older women who invited me into their homes. Unlike the photos I took of my extended family in the mountains, my perch in the camp was at times uncomfortable because my identity was an unfamiliar blend to most, making me feel like a voyeur. The fact that outsider-do-gooders are common in the camp made it easier. A European nurse walking briskly through the alleys on her way to train hospital staff in the latest neonatal care was common. My experiences in Borj Al Barajni tempered my view of the Lebanese political turmoil outside the camp. Although I see Lebanon’s expression of nationalism as an important development for the Lebanese, it is also another chapter that ignores the plight of the Palestinians whose original trauma of exile has yet to be resolved.

Hariri’s Assassination and Lebanese Demonstrations: Upon our arrival in Beirut on the eve of the New Year, the parliament and the Syrian-backed presidency were hurling threats at each other in anticipation of coming elections. A month and a half later on Valentines Day, a powerful explosion just a mile from our neighborhood shook us. We felt an electrical surge go through us as we wondered if it was an Israeli air strike or an earthquake. The recently resigned, and much-loved Prime Minister Rafik Hariri had been assassinated. Unexpectedly, this loss united the country. Overnight, Rafik Hariris visage appeared throughout Lebanon. Banners and posters of Hariri were both expressions of mourning and a rallying cry to uncover the truth through a criminal investigation. Subsequent reactions against the Syrian occupation and control in Lebanon were realized through several demonstrations of unprecedented size. The demonstrations were peaceful and eventually united the many factions within the country. The Syrian troops left within a few months, yet the corruptions within the Lebanese government and the factional entanglements with a myriad of outsiders including the Americans, the French, the Iranians and the Israelis have yet to be resolved. Thus far, the Lebanese are methodically and courageously working through these internal corruptions without the use of violence.

Syria: Syria is a living and breathing museum that claims many “firsts” as it was a conduit into Europe for cultural advances and modernizing innovations from Byzantine Christian and Islamic cultures. It is a proud country with a population that deeply realizes their place in history and their example of diversity. In the center of Damascus, the oldest continually inhabited city in the world, the Umayed mosque stands with its layers of Roman, Byzantine and Islamic architecture. Eventually, the Umayeds founded the tolerant society of Southern Spain. In Damascus we saw the Sufism of the whirling Dervishes and we met with the leader of the Jewish community amidst the treasures of a bright and colorful synagogue. In Hama we saw the norias, giant irrigation waterwheels that were engineering marvels of the pre-machine age. In their traditional and extroverted ways, Syrians are a wonderfully friendly and hospitable people who seem to know intuitively what your needs are and how to satisfy them graciously. The food was extraordinary and in fact has a world-class reputation. It is a clean and well-administered country whose industries compete with the global economy of Lebanon. These impressions were tempered somewhat by recent political events, but my feelings toward Syria continue to be strong because of its familiarity. Of all the Arab countries, it is closest to the dialect and culture of Lebanon.

Iran: Iran’s culture comes from centuries of introspective development amidst external assault. Iran’s rugged terrain and its tortured history from ancient times to the present created a kind of interiority within the culture, manifested in amazing visual creations. Grand Islamic architecture came late to Iran compared to other Islamic cultures, but it came magnificently and with a unique flourish all its own. The architectural innovations reached an unparalleled height of sophistication that coupled the concepts of austerity and decoration in brilliantly negotiated tensions. It is a culture of pride, detachment and reflection. We found this tempered attitude of solitude and beauty to be exemplified in the social spaces of tea gardens, covered bridges and mosques where one can find a private space to eat, read or think. The Khaju Bridge or the Kashan garden exemplified this dynamic. They are spaces that welcomed social activity and private reflection. The many niches provide a modicum of privacy for a couple to quickly diaper a baby or steal an embrace, young school girls all seemed to have cameras and running shoes to flee in and out of the labyrinthine spaces, and male singers entertained their ever-changing audiences with mournful ballads and folk songs. Iran taught me how I could “manage” being an artist by guarding and nurturing my privacy.