Gerald Matt lectures on Amal Kenawy's work at the Darat on
28/1/2007
Amal Kenawy talks to Gerald Matt
Q:
“The
Room,” a video animation you presented as part of the show “Some
Stories” in Vienna in 2005, shows a beating heart of white
fabric and lace-gloved hands slowly and mechanically sewing
ornaments on it; the body remains invisible. Unfolding intense
contexts, you shock people with ultimate views of the interior –
they find themselves in places oscillating between spaces of
remembrance and imaginary spheres where the familiar and the
everyday give way to the irrational. Defamiliarization, the
transition from the real to the imaginary, and the visualization
of the invisible imply a surrealist aspect. – Would you say that
your works or your artistic practice is related to a surrealist
dialectics?
A:
Although I do not follow a particular school of thought when
working, one could link my art to surrealism because of my heavy
reliance on symbols. I use signs and imagery to represent the
remembered, the dreamt, and the imaginary. Portraying the inner
and the invisible through tangible/recognizable forms, my works
sometimes takes on a surreal character. However, I would say
that only certain aspects of my work are surreal; other parts of
it can be better described as expressive. In fact, I believe
that my work is more the latter than the former. My primary
concern is not the styles and/or techniques that I use to
express my ideas but rather the ideas themselves. I chose my
technique and style based on which forms of them allow me to
best articulate my subject. In terms of style, I sometimes find
that the most suitable way to depict my thoughts is through
taking a symbolic/metaphoric direction, but this is not always
the case.
Q:
In an
essay on surrealist art, Octavio Paz noted that “what matters is
to get rid of these fictitious personalities which the world
forces upon us or which we have created ourselves […].
Smothering us, the self hides our real being from us.” The body
as an area of activities, its boundaries, its fragmentation, or
even its dissolution may be seen as a central subject of your
work as an artist. In the animation video “The Purple Artificial
Forest,”(2006) you break down the body into its component parts.
With a few strokes, you create a one-point perspective space by
connecting the mostly crimson parts of the body with the white
of the pictorial surface – while the suggested room sometimes
presents itself as a cage, the unordered net-like structures
form dreamlike intricate beings. Being magically attracted by a
mirror, the body fragments are devoured by an ethereal creature.
– Could you describe the symbolism you rely on here?
A:
My main
goal in “The Purple Artificial Forest” was to present a world
that appears unreal but is made up of realistic elements and is
in fact a reflection of the actual/physical world. The piece’s
title is directly related to this concept; it simultaneously
establishes the artificiality of the strange, dreamlike world
that the work depicts yet at the same time sets up a link
between the world I have created and reality. I tried to create
such an unreal world by placing humans body parts – legs, hands,
and decapitated heads - in intimate, domestic spaces, using an
open landscape as a background, in turn, depriving these spaces
of their sense of security/comfort. The detached body parts are
like plants, violently sprouting branches that grow and
multiply. These body parts and the imagined, hostile space that
they lie in, have interchangeable roles, one devouring the other
and vice-versa in an endless cycle of consumption/destruction.
Q:
Recurring motifs such as high-voltage poles, shells, water
basins, draped curtains, tree structures, animal creatures, and
body extremities constitute a visual repertoire of forms which,
reminding us of the return of unconscious dream pictures, keep
overlapping themselves with always new contents. – Are these
motifs to be seen as specific signifiers, or do their contents
vary depending on the context? Why the reduced range of colors
you use in your drawings?
A:
To
begin with, my use of symbols and motifs is conscious. I
purposely employ recurring images that are loaded with
premeditated meanings, meanings which are nonetheless
subjective. Sometimes, I use a specific motif to express the
same idea in many different contexts/places; other times, I use
different motifs to express the same idea. One motif that I have
used in my latest work, and which I have not used previously, is
the rat; in my video, a rat ferociously bites a female figure,
causing her to bleed profusely. I intentionally used a small and
weak animal here so as to emphasize the fragility of humans. In
my other works, this idea, the vulnerability of humankind, is
present and is expressed, however, through distinct forms. In
contrast, a motif that I have used in many of my works is the
tree. In the multiple contexts in which I have utilized this
image, the tree stands for the cycle of life. I use imagery and
symbolism in many of my works because they allow me to better
explore the conscious and the unconscious. In my earlier
artworks, I sometimes used imagery so that I could maneuver
around censorship laws; through symbolism, I was able to express
myself and my thoughts in a more discreet but still
powerful/effective manner. My two newest works however do not
rely on symbolism for censorship purposes; symbolism is used in
them for purely expressive reasons.
As for my
choice to use a limited range of colors, this stems from my
belief that color serves a function in art and that its
employment or method of employment do not have to do with just
aesthetics or technique. I think of drawing and painting as the
visual equivalent of writing, their principle function being to
convey an idea or explore a subject. Within this framework of
thought, each color, when it is used, is given a specific
meaning. I use a lot of purple in my work because I find that it
suggests the liveliness of man and captures his vivacity; this
is due to the color’s likeness to that of blood. At the same
time, the purple that is used does not stir feelings of disgust
in my viewer because it is not exactly the color of
blood. This resemblance yet difference allows for the color to
evoke feelings that are more central to my work than revulsion,
feelings such as fear and apprehension. I use a lot of black as
well. Black allows me to draw lines and define my forms. It also
enables me obliterate details when I want to and to convey a
sense of ending/non-existence.
Q:
We have
talked about boundaries; behavioral patterns and social
structures informed by the cultural environment and the
restriction and loss of self-determination in an increasingly
complex world determine the discourse on the relationship
between the individual and a globalized world in which different
cultures still define different frontiers. Your video “Frozen
Memory” fathoms the socio-cultural codifications of marriage and
death – two events that mark breaks or transitions especially in
Muslim culture; although the work exposes a central ganglion of
collective clichés by focusing on emotions hidden beneath the
surface and the visual recollections resulting from them, it
deals with identity as a product and as a mirror of one’s
immediate vicinity. – Do Islamic traditions and their social and
religious codes provide a direct or indirect frame of reference
for your practice as an artist?
A:
Events
such as birth, marriage, and death mark significant times in the
cycle of life of all humans and are loaded with/involve many
emotions. For this reason, they are given importance in most
cultures and consequently are assigned socio-cultural
codifications. Their significance then is not exclusive or
unique to Muslim culture. As an individual cannot remove or
separate himself from his social and cultural environment, his
perception of these events is no doubt tied to them. Thus, my
exploration of the subjects of birth, marriage, and death is
influenced by my society’s/culture’s views on them.
While it
would be dismissive to deny or underplay the influence of
Islamic traditions and codes of behavior on the customs and
rules of a given Muslim society, it must be recognized that
Islam is only one determining factor in this society’s social
regulations. Thus, to say that Islamic traditions or
codes provide a direct or indirect frame for my work would be to
lump Islamic countries/societies into one extremely simplified
and generalized category, overlooking the diversity of Muslim
societies. Even Arab societies differ greatly, with Algeria, for
instance, bearing little resemblance to Syria. My work then is
not an expression of Islam or the Muslim world or even the Arab
world; rather, my art reflects Egyptian society, as a product of
its socio-cultural, political, and economic climate as well as
its cultural heritage and history.
Q:
According to Jacques Lacan, an identity has to be recognized and
confirmed by its social environs, i.e. is subject to a
continuous fight for qualification and has to be reinforced by
rituals, symbols, and myths. – Does the subjective,
autobiographic symbolism you draw on employ forms of pain and
injury?
A:
I would
like to start off by clarifying that I do not use autobiography
or subjective symbolism to present myself or who I am in my
work. My goal is not to create a self-portrait; it is not to use
personal signs to communicate something important about me
specifically. Rather, I use these symbols to convey my views on
topics that are relevant to all people. I treat myself as a
figure or an agent through which I can talk about universal
feelings and experiences. The emotions and incidents that I deal
with in particular include fear, desire, insecurity, and hope as
well as violence, injury, and pain.
I think of
artistic creation as a means for expressing life; I envision the
course of art as running parallel to the track of life. My
artwork does not focus on the tracks of my life, my memory, or
my dreams but rather looks at life, memory, and dreams in
general, along with their relationships to one another.
Q:
The
complexity of the female identity and the intense, intimate
exploration of dialectical parallel emotional and intellectual
spaces constitute a central field of your artistic practice.
Reviews of your work relate it to that of various feminist
artists such as Louise Bourgeois, Eva Hesse, or Carolee
Schneemann. – Are there certain artistic positions you feel near
to? Which artists and traditions are important for you?
A:
I would
not say that my work has a conscious feminist direction. It is
pertinent to all human beings; its main concern is to explore
the emotions that are felt by humans, including love and pain,
as well as how humans perceive their experiences in life. My
art, as mentioned above, deals with the influence of society on
humans, on how society affects their understanding of certain
events or feelings. Most societies have ideas about gender
differences that are incorporated into their values and codes of
conduct. This is one of the reasons why one could say that there
are differences between the way women tend to emotionally
respond to or perceive their experiences and the way men do.
Thus gender may be said to play an indirect and unconscious role
in my work. My views on my inner world and the world that
surrounds me, which are expressed through my artwork, may be
affected by my identity as a woman, however, gender is
definitely not a central theme or concern in my art.
With
regards to my work being compared to that of the female artists
mentioned above, I see this comparison as being drawn for mainly
two reasons. Firstly, a connection has been made because of what
has been perceived as our shared use of certain symbols or
imagery. However our use of these symbols, the contexts we place
them in, and what they signify differ. One can not talk about a
similarity in our use of certain images because doing so would
be like talking about a part of our work and ignoring how this
part fits into the whole. Secondly, I believe that this link can
be largely attributed to my being a woman. In 2006, I
participated in an exhibition entitled “Nafas,” which, it was
stressed, provided its viewers with a look at the work of 8
female artists from the Islamic World. If the
exhibition had featured the work of 8 male artists, the gender
of the participating artists would have been considered a
subsidiary detail and not a definitive feature of the
exhibition.
Q:
The
space of your early works is an abstract space of imagination.
Your recent work “You will be killed” is the first for which
structures and recollections of a real space are the point of
departure. The rooms you show in your video were used as a
hospital in colonial times: you tell us about the place and your
dismay at the traces of violence to be felt even after 30 years.
In the video, these rooms dissolve to reveal or are superimposed
with abstract drawings, symbolic archaic motifs, and your
portrait. The sequence of metaphoric pictures sketches a
self-portrait by inscribing the connotations onto the hospital
walls. – You show the social space as a network of more or less
anonymous relations of power: are you alluding to certain
political events here?
A:
First
off, “You will be killed” is not the only piece in which I
depict/work on a real space. This was also done in “The Room.”
“The Room” encompasses two spaces, one that is the abstract
space of a person’s inner being and the other that gives us a
look at this person’s interaction/relationship with the outer
world. The existence of two such spaces side-by-side represents
the separation of the self. The inner, it is shown, is unrelated
to the outer. Furthermore, the outer is just a static image, a
cover, a surface. The non-abstract space in which man’s
interaction with the physical world is featured provides a
commentary on society’s influence on man; this space is a real
place.
“You will
be killed” is set in a real place/location - a military
hospital. Fantastic images and spaces are projected onto the
walls of this actual space, converting the hospital into a
gallery. The location has an undeniably intense history; it is a
place that has witnessed conflicts/relations of power and
violence. The superimposition of a picture of myself on the
walls of the hospital emphasizes that this is my understanding
of the place. The work however is not about a particular place
or a specific event, it is about violence in general, whether on
a personal or political level. It deals with instances of
violence, locations that have witnessed these instances, and the
effect that these instances and locations have had on those who
have lived through the violence.
Q:
How
would you describe your attitude towards violence, power, and
politics?
A:
I find
that these three concepts are intricately tied together. Power
is what defines the relationship between individuals as well as
nations. Power structures are based on the ability of one side
to do harm onto the other, on the potential of the former to
treat the latter violently. Most importantly, the link between
violence and power can be explained through their relationships
to security and insecurity. If a person feels secure or self
confident, he sees less of a need to use violence to prove
himself or to exert himself on others; he is truly powerful. If
an individual is insecure, he is always on the defensive, trying
to protect himself or to demonstrate his strength/ability.
However, this overcompensation is not a show of actual power but
of fake power, beneath which lies weakness. In short, violence
and power determine both personal and political relationships.
Q:
Compared to other countries of the Near East, Egypt seems to be
more aware of the continuity of its culture and its deeply
rooted tradition. Nevertheless, the development of a modernist
movement was blocked by structural limitations in academic
education, insufficient institutions for artistic exchange, as
well as a repressive attitude concerning the establishment of a
theoretic critical discourse for a long time. Since the
mid-1990s, private initiatives by the Town House Gallery, the
Mashrabia Gallery, and others have created a public interest in
contemporary art. This entailed an unheard-of dynamic change for
the younger generation. – How do you position yourself within
these local structures? What about your forms of networking with
regional and international artists, curators, and cultural
institutions?
A:
Up
until now, and even now, most galleries and art institutes in
Egypt are nationally supported by the Ministry of Culture. I am
against this centralization in the field of art, against the
control of education, resources, opportunities, and even
ideas, that produces artwork made with a purpose/agenda in mind.
Since the mid-1990s, a number of independent galleries
have opened and private and individual efforts are being made.
Artists are no longer linked to a certain gallery. These rising
independent galleries, which serve different purposes, give
artists more freedom to move between them as well as to choose
the direction in which they would like to move forward or the
aspect(s) of their art or artistic career that they would like
to develop. A number of art related institutions have also
emerged, offering artists greater opportunities and more choice
as well as complementing the activities of up-and-coming
galleries. Recently, there has been an increase in global
interest in the Middle East and Muslim societies. Some of this
interest has been channeled into endeavors that look beyond the
stereotypes and images produced by mass media and attempt to
discover the reality of these societies. This has had a positive
effect on Egyptian artists as well as artists from the region as
whole. It is the combination of the local developments and
international interest mentioned above that has led art in Egypt
to increasingly become on an international level, a change that
bears on all Egyptian artists, including myself.
Q:
Your
work has been shown in numerous exhibitions. You have not only
participated in the Biennials of Singapore, Dakar, Cairo, and
Alexandria, but also in thematic group exhibitions such as
“Africa Remix,” “Nafas” in Berlin in 2006, and “Some Stories” in
Vienna in 2005. These approaches are primarily determined by
cultural attributions or are presentations focusing on cultural
dialogue. – How do tendencies towards generalization or
geographic standardizations affect the perception and
positioning of your work? Do you see Egypt as a country which is
still dissociated from mainstream international art?
A:
There
are certain criteria which I use when making a decision as to
whether or not to participate in these thematic exhibitions.
First and foremost, I look at the title and theme of the
exhibition and see if they are too stereotypical or if their
approach is overly simplistic. As I mentioned in my answer to
your previous question, topics related to the Middle East and
Muslim societies have become extremely fashionable/trendy. I
have used the many thematic exhibitions, which often times tend
to make generalizations and geographic standardizations, that
have resulted from this fad to exhibit my work. I make a point
however of presenting something contrary to what is expected, to
clichés. I do so by focusing my work on a personal/subjective
level, by producing art that looks at the intimate. I believe
that this is an effective way of changing existing perceptions
and misconceptions.
As for your
question on Egypt’s disassociation from mainstream international
art, this is once again due to the large amount of control that
national institutions exert over the art scene. This monopoly
has led to their being no serious research, very few
international artists working or exhibiting in Egypt, as well as
a small number of exhibitions of international art being mounted
in the country. This is further exacerbated by the weakness of
Egyptian art education programs; art schools mainly focus on the
academic aspects of art and do not cover/teach many modern
styles and techniques. As I have mentioned earlier, there are
private and independent efforts at change being made but they
are just not enough.
Q:
Your
means of expression as an artist comprise an enormous range of
different media: you have been director, scriptwriter, and
actress rolled into one. Drawing, sculpture, photography,
animation, video, installation, and performance seem to be part
of a continuing unending multiple project which resists the
categorizing grid of Western norms. You first studied design in
Cairo, and it was only later that your education also included
film and painting. – How has this diversified focus determined
your language as an artist?
A:
When I
was three years old, I started designing clothes. When I grew a
little older, I came to realize that I wanted to work in and
combine drawing and design. I eventually studied film and
design. The program was very academically focused and was not
very strong. From there, I moved onto painting but I encountered
the same problems in my study of it. I was always working and
researching alongside my studies, beginning with my first year
of training and up until I left school. This was an attempt on
my behalf to reinforce my education. For these efforts, I
received the UNESCO Grand Prize at the International Cairo
Biennale and the First Prize in Sculpture at the Salon of Youth
in 1997. The study of many disciplines/techniques was not meant
to lead me to a different or special perspective but rather to
increase my ways for expressing myself, to allow me greater
freedom of expression.
Q:
What do
you think about the education for artists in Egypt in general?
Which options or kinds of support are there for teachers and
students? Video is a very young medium in contemporary Egyptian
art: which are the difficulties you were or are confronted with
concerning the technically intricate production of your works?
A:
I have
already touched upon this question in previous answers.
Expanding on what has been said, with an emphasis on education,
I believe that a greater importance should be placed on art
educators/teachers. Formerly, teachers were sent abroad so that
they could keep up-do-date with the developments of the
international art scene and maintain a link between Egypt and
the rest of the world. This is no longer the case. Another
change that is required is an adjustment of the admission
policies of Egyptian art schools, whereby admission becomes
based on talent and artistic standards rather than on grades.
With
regards to my working in the time-consuming and
technically-demanding medium of video in Egypt, I find that the
biggest challenge to my work is that there are not enough sides
that support independent films and cinema. I prefer to produce
independent films in a setting such as this, without support,
than to be controlled or censored by a backing institution.
Q:
Since
1997, you have realized 11 projects together with your brother
Abdel Ghany, projects for which you have received numerous
awards like the Pro Helvetica grant (2004) and the Leonardo
Global Crossings Award (2005). Though your approach is based on
a decidedly subjective autobiographical symbolism, you describe
the collaboration with your brother as a creative process
encompassing all phases from the development of the concept and
structural visual considerations to the production of the work
itself. – Could you tell us what this common work was like? How
can an introspective and intimate form of expression be realized
together with somebody else? In what way has your method of work
changed since you have developed and realized your projects
without your brother?
A:
My
collaboration work began with Abdel Ghany in 1997. This was
actually at the beginning of my career as an artist. We started
off wanting to leave an impression; we collaborated on
everything, in producing our work as well as in exhibiting it.
Our collaboration was not limited to technical cooperation; we
even collaborated on the ideas and concepts expressed through
our art. Such cooperation was novel at the time. Since then,
there have been many artists in Egypt who have collaborated
together. Our art focused on the relationship between man and
his surroundings or nature. We received numerous awards for the
work that we did jointly.
The last
work that I created with Abdel Ghany was "Frozen Memory."
It was the first work which I felt treated a personal
subject and even then, its subject
was only personal to a certain extent; "Frozen Memory"
looks at how humans reflect their society, or what their
relationship is to their surroundings, and not at their inner
being. This topic was an extension from the subjects we had
previously dealt with, but it took a small step in a more
intimate direction. My brother and I approached the subject
separately, from our own perspective. We each created a video
that explored our views on the subject through a topic that
interested us. Abdel Ghany looked at how a person can feel
alienated despite living amongst others in society as well as
how we are all part of a turning wheel, representative of
society, a wheel that keeps moving, that never stops. My part of
the work explored what I call the "real life" of a person, as
recorded in/by his memory, and not his life as measured in time.
After completing our separate parts, we combined them to create
"Frozen Memory." My work has changed since then, but I would not
say that that has to do with our separation.
After
making "Frozen Memory," I began to seriously question the
purpose of my art. I realized then that art is a tool for
expression not a final project to be exhibited whenever and
wherever possible. I also became aware that I wanted to explore
more personal topics such as how experiences or surroundings
affect an individual and how an individual perceives them. Since
then, this is the direction that my art has moved in.
Q:
You will be showing the works described here in short (“Frozen
Memory,” “The Room,” “The Purple Artificial Forest,” “You will
be killed”) at the Darat al Funun in Amman. – Would you outline
your concept for the presentation? Most of your works are
fragmentary – both the dramaturgical organization and the time
structure make us think of a finger repeatedly pushing the STOP
button “at random”: what role do narration and narrative
structures play when you prepare a presentation?
A:
My work does not fall under different subjects; there are
definitely clear ties between my pieces. These links include
their shared treatment of the subjects of history, memory, and
abstract spaces. The presentation of my work in this solo
exhibition outlines its development and transformation. It
displays how my works have affected one another. Their
exhibition in one location is similar to the act of combining my
diaries to make a story of them.
As for the
question on narrative structure, the chosen progression of
narrative and the rhythm of time in a work most certainly have a
function. I edit my tapes in a way to make a story out of my
footage, to bring across a message to my viewer, or invoke in
him a certain emotion. Not all of my works are fragmentary. For
example, “The Room” has an organized narrative; it also conveys
a message. My last two projects however have moved in a more
fragmentary direction. They are both cut up to disturb; they are
especially carefully edited, with their scenes and music
meticulously arranged, to leave the viewer with a sense of
visual and aural discomfort. In “You Will Be Killed,” there is
not even a specific melody. This technique of cutting produces a
sense of anxiety in the viewer, a sense that is fitting for
videos that deal with such disturbing subjects as violence,
pain, and fear. |
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