ﴪب /ﻃﻘﻮس ﺗ ﱡ
as if it were a scene made-up by the mind, that is not mine, but is a made place, that is mine, it is so near to the heart, an eternal pasture folded in all thought so that there is a hall therein that is a made place, created by light wherefrom the shadows that are forms fall. — Robert Duncan, ‘Often I am permitted to Return to a Meadow’, 1960
The Abraaj Group Art Prize 2017
Rana Begum Sarah Abu Abdullah Doa Aly Raha Raissnia Curated by Omar Berrada
seepage / ritual is published on the occasion of The Abraaj Group Art Prize 2017 Art Dubai, Madinat Jumeirah, Dubai, 14-18 March 2017 Curator Omar Berrada Curatorial team Emily Charles, Huda Elawad The book is published by Sternberg Press and the Abraaj Group. Sternberg Press Caroline Schneider Karl-Marx-Allee 78 D-10243 Berlin www.sternberg-press.com Š the artists, the editor, the authors, Abraaj Group, Sternberg Press All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without written permission from the publishers. ISBN 978-3-95679-325-7 Editor Omar Berrada Authors Omar Berrada, Sarah Abu Abdallah, Doa Aly, Amino Belyamani, Milton Cruz Translation Abu Bakr Al Ani Design Omar Mismar Printing Musumeci S.P.A. Special thanks Mighel Abreu gallery, The Third Line Gallery, Ab/Anbar Gallery, Gypsum gallery, Stuart Comer, Benedetta Ghione, Simina Neagu, Firas AbuAbdallah, Karam Natour, Caspar Jade Hieneman, Bruno Zhu, Josh Bitelli, Ab6al Al Dijital. www.abraajgroupartprize.com
Works in the exhibition Winning commission Rana Begum No.695 Abraaj, 2016 Coloured glass panels, W 9 x L 10.4 x H 1.2 m Courtesy of the artist and Abraaj Group Art Prize Additional works Sarah Abu Abdallah Mornings of Hope, 2017 Video projection on circular panels, 5’ Courtesy of the artist Doa Aly House of Rumor Four-channel audio-video installation, 2016, 19’11’’ Courtesy of the artist and Gypsum Gallery Drawing #110, #111, #112, and #113, 2017 Pencil on cotton paper, 70 x 57 cm each Courtesy of the artist and Gypsum Gallery I Am Alone, 2016 18 K gold Commissioned by Nile Sunset Annex and Mophradat Rana Begum No. 714 Painting, 2017 Acrylic paint on MDF, 54 panels, H 200 x W 258 x D 4 cm Courtesy of the artist and The Third Line Gallery No. 711 Perspex, 2017 Paint on MDF and Perspex, L 60 x W 60 x H 9 cm Courtesy of the artist and The Third Line Gallery No. 718 Perspex, 2017 Perspex sheets, number variable, L 50 x W 50 x H 50 cm each Courtesy of the artist and The Third Line Gallery Raha Raissnia Mneme, 2015-2017 Hand-painted 35mm slides and 16 mm film, color, optical sound by Panagiotis Mavridis, 10’ loop Courtesy of the artist, Miguel Abreu Gallery, and Ab/Anbar Gallery Series in Fugue, 2013 8 paintings, oil and gesso on wood, 24 x 32 and 24 x 34 inches Courtesy of the artist and Miguel Abreu Gallery Alluvius, 2016 3 out of a series of 12 mixed media drawings, 12 x 19 inches Courtesy of the artist and Miguel Abreu Gallery
مقدمة يطيــب ملجموعــة أبـراج أن تقــدم ضمــن فعاليــات آرت ديب 2017 النســخة التاســعة مــن جائــزة أب ـراج للفنــون للفنانــة الفائــزة رنــا بيغــم حيــث ســيعرض عملهــا الفائــز ضمــن معــرض جامعــي تحت عنــوان «تــرب /طقــوس» مبشــاركة الفنانــات الثالثــة الــايئ ترشــحن لنفــس الجائــزة وهــن ســارة أبــو عبداللــه ودعــاء عــي ورهــا رئيــس نيــا تحــت إدارة القيّــم الضيــف ،الكاتــب واملرتجــم عمــر بـرادة .وتفخــر مجموعــة أبـراج بجائزتهــا التــي ال تقترص عىل توفــر املســاحة الفنية للفنانــن املتميزيــن لتحقيق أعاملهــم الفنية الطموحــة فحســب ولكنهــا توفــر للق ّيمــن كذلــك فرصــة فريــدة للتعــرف والتعــاون مــع الفنانــن املوهوبــن مــن منطقــة الــرق األوســط وشــال أفريقيــا وجنــوب آســيا إلنتــاج معــارض وكتــب مه ّمــة وذلــك انطالقـاً مــن حــرص جائــزة أبـراج للفنــون عــى توفري الفــرص الفنيــة املتميــزة للفنانــن والقيّمــن يف املنطقــة خصوص ـاً مــع قــرب احتفــال الجائــزة بعامهــا العــارش. ونتقــدم بالشــكر الجزيــل ألعضــاء اللجنــة التحكيميــة املوقــرة والذيــن شــاركوا يف عمليــات االختيــار والرتشــيح حيــث كان إلســهاماتهم وتوجيهاتهــم األثــر العميــق يف إثـراء النقاشــات البناءة للجائــزة مــع اق ـراب الذكــرى العــارشة لتأسيســها وهــم كل مــن هانــز أولريــش أوبريســت ،املديــر املشــارك للمعــارض والربامــج يف معــرض ســربنتني ودفنــة أيــاس ،مديــرة وقيّمــة ملركــز ويــت دو ويــذ للفــن املعــارص وســانديني بــودار الق ّيمــة واملؤرخــة الفنيــة الذيــن انضمــوا إلينــا مــع فايــزة نقفــي وفريدريــك ســيكر وأنتونيــا كارفــر ،مديــرة مؤسســة الفــن جميــل وعمــر بــرادة ليكتمــل نصــاب اللجنــة التحكيميــة كــا نتقــدم بجزيــل الشــكر ملجموعــة املستشــارين الذيــن ســاعدونا يف ترشــيح األعــال وعملــوا عــى تشــجيع أفضــل املواهــب املتميــزة مــن القيّمــن والفنانــن عــى التقديــم عــى هــذه الجائــزة .ويف الختــام ال نغفــل املجهــود الرائــع الــذي يقدمــه فريــق عملنــا يف آرت ديب طــوال العــام دون كلــل أو ملــل لنتمكــن مــن قطــف مثــار هــذه الجهــود اليــوم. دانا فاروقي رئيسة اللجنة التحكيمية لجائزة أبراج للفنون
Foreword In 2017, The Abraaj Group is delighted to present the ninth edition of The Abraaj Group Art Prize to Rana Begum at Art Dubai. The winning commission is accompanied by seepage / ritual, an exhibition featuring the three short-listed artists, Sarah Abu Abdullah, Doa Aly and Raha Raissnia organised by Guest Curator, writer and translator Omar Berrada. The Abraaj Group Art Prize not only provides a platform for great artists to make new, important and ambitious work, but also allows exceptional curators to connect with talented artists from the MENASA region to produce a meaningful exhibition and catalogue. The Abraaj Group Art Prize is intent on providing transformative opportunities to artists and curators from around the region and is looking forward to marking a decade of the Prize next year with programming. We are grateful to the esteemed jury who thoughtfully participated in the selection process for a second year and whose insight informed a productive discussion about the prize nearly 10 years after it was established. Hans Ulrich Obrist, Co-Director of Exhibitions and Programmes at the Serpentine Gallery; Defne Ayas, Director and Curator of the Witte de With Center for Contemporary Art; and Sandhini Poddar, Art Historian and Independent Curator joined Fayeeza Naqvi, Frederic Sicre, Antonia Carver, former Director of Art Dubai, Omar and myself to make up the Selection Committee. Many thanks also go to the trusted group of advisors who act as nominators and help us to encourage the brightest curators and artists to apply. Finally, we must recognize the wonderful team at Art Dubai who work hard all year long to bring the prize to fruition. Dana Farouki Chair, The Abraaj Group Art Prize
رسب /طقوس ت ُّ عمر برادة «كام هو حال النوتات املوسيقية ،كذلك هي األلوان – التباين مرغوب بقدر معكوسه» — جوزيف ألربز« :تفاعل األلوان» كيــف ميكنــك أن تبتكــر أشــكاال ف ّنيــة كــر ّد عــى االضطرابــات اإلجتامعيــة أو السياســية أو التاريخيــة؟ كيــف ميكنك رب – فهــو يتهــرب مــن قبضتنــا أن تواجــه فوائــض الواقــع أو مراقبــة صموتــه؟ الواقــع سـ ٌ ـائل محتــوم عليــه التـ ّ ليعــود إلينــا بأشــكال وأبعــاد جديــدة كل يــوم. يــروي جــون بريجــر يف مجموعــة قصصيــة بعنــوان «هنــا حيــث نلتقــي» زيــارات إىل مــدن مختلفــة مــن خــال كبسـ ٍ ـوالت خطابيــة تختــزن الفكــرة والذاكــرة والعاطفــة .وهنــا يف ديب حيــث هـ ّن يلتقــن :أربعــة فنانــات جمعهــن حــب العــارة والفضــاءات املدنيــة وجامليــة التسلســل حيــث تستكشــف كل منهــن األطــوار الجامليــة ملطاوعــة الواقــع وإعــادة تشــكيله مــن خــال التكـرار وتغيــر األمنــاط واإليقــاع .هنــاك حيــث يلتقــن. املعــرض مبثابــة سلســلة مــن االقرتاحــات التــي تتنــاول جدليــة اإلفـراط والســيطرة – التــرب والطقــوس .هنــاك محــاوالت موســيقية يف وقــت مكظــوم ،محــاوالت إلعــادة تكويــن هندســة اهتامماتنــا مــن خــال التفاعــل اللعوب بالهندســة الجامديــة .كيــف تبــدو الحيــاة إذا أردت متثيلهــا بدوائــر ملونــة؟ كيــف ســيكون األمــر لــو فكــرت مــن خــال أشــكال مثلثيــة؟ يقــول جــون كيــج« :الهيــكل بــا حيــاة ميــوت .ولكــن الحيــاة بــا هيــكل تتــوارى عــن األنظــار» وهنــا ننظــر للحيــاة مــن خــال موشــورات مهندَســة. تحــرص الفنانــة رنــا بيغــم يف عملهــا الجديــد عــى اســتغالل تغـ ّـرات ضــوء الشــمس يف أعاملهــا لتحيــل املنحوتــة إىل تركيبــة فنيــة ذات بعــد زمنــي حيــث تقــدم للناظــر تحـ ّوالً يف املقيــاس مــن خــال تكـرار منطــي لشــكل هنديس بســيط وهــو املثلّــت لتنتقــل مــن الهندســة املجســمة إىل املســطحات املرئيــة ومــن التكـرار إىل الطقوس. تقــدم الفنانــة رهــا رئيــس نيــا رســومات ولوحــات وعــروض فيلميــة تطمــح إىل الوصــول إىل البعــد الزمــاين والتجريبــي للموســيقى وذلــك مــن خــال اتبــاع منطــق مــريئ لفــن الطبــاق املتناغــم والصــور بح ـ ّد ذاتهــا تُبــن أشــكاالً معامريــة منيعــة ســوداء تظهــر فيهــا بــن الفينــة واألخــرى بقــع مضيئــة كأنهــا معج ـزات صغــرة. تقـدّم الفنانــة دعــاء عــي تركيبــة فيديويــة ذات أربعــة قنــوات مســتوحاة مــن حلقة «بيــت الشــائعات» ألوفيد ومــن فائــض الخطابــات واملناقشــات التــي تلــت الثــورات املرصيــة فالحــركات املدروســة امل ُحكمــة التــي تنفّذهــا أجســاد املمثلــن ينافســها مزيــج مع ّقــد مــن األصــوات اآلتيــة مــن أفواههــم. نجــد يف عمــل الفنانــة ســارة أبــو عبداللــه طابعـاً شــخصياً خاصـاً يتمثــل يف جامليــة االحتجــاز ومعانقــة املألــوف وذلــك مــن خــال املراقبــة األزليــة للتفاصيــل اليوميــة التــي تــؤدي إىل تش ـتّت الواقــع واتخــاذه شــكل مجموعــة مــن الدوائــر املنفصلــة رغــم العالقــات املبهمــة التــي تربــط بينهــا. ليــس هــذا الكتــاب وثيقــة مرئيــة تفصيليــة للمعــرض كام أنــه ال يقدم رشحـاً ألعــال الفنانــات أو تعليقـاً عليها. ولكــن ميكــن اعتبــاره عــى أنــه معــرض مص ّغــر يف حــد ذاتــه يحتــوي عــى تد ّخــات جديــدة ســواء مبــارشة مــن طــرف الفنانــات أو بالتعــاون معهــن.
seepage / ritual by Omar Berrada “as with tones in music, so with color – dissonance is as desirable as its opposite.” — Joseph Albers: Interaction of Color How do you elaborate forms in response to social, political or historical tumult? How do you face up to the excesses of the real, or attend to its silences? Reality is fluid; seepage is its middle name – it evades our grasp, constantly revealing new, unheeded dimensions. In a short story collection by the title Here Is Where We Meet, John Berger captures encounters with multiple cities through narrative capsules of thought, memory and emotion. Here, in Dubai, is where they meet: four artists with a strong interest in architecture, urban space, and seriality. Through repetition and variation of pattern and rhythm, each in her own way explores aesthetic modes of coaxing reality into form. There is where they meet. This exhibition consists of a series of propositions on how to stage a dialectics of excess and control – of seepage and ritual. These are attempts at musicality in a time of restraint, at reconfiguring our geometries of attention through playful engagement with literal geometry. What does life look like when you contemplate it on painted circles? What might thinking in triangles involve? John Cage once said: “Structure without life is dead. But life without structure is un-seen.” Here we consider life through shapely prisms. By integrating variations of daylight into her work, Rana Begum turns sculpture into a timebased art form. Through monumental patterning of a simple motif, she introduces a shift in scale, moving from geometry to landscape and from repetition to ritual. Raha Raissnia’s paintings, drawings, and film projections aspire to the temporal and experiential condition of music. They follow a logic of visual counterpoint while foregrounding dark, forbidding architectures in which occasional openings appears as small miracles. Doa Aly’s four-channel video installation takes inspiration both from Ovid’s “house of rumor” episode and from the chattery aftermath of the Egyptian uprisings. Strictly choreographed movements of bodies are offset by the competing layers of an intricate soundtrack. Sarah Abu Abdallah develops a very personal aesthetics of confinement through an embrace of the domestic. By virtue of endlessly observing quotidian minutiae, reality breaks into a map of separate circles enigmatically linked. The present volume is not meant as a thorough visual documentation of the exhibition, nor does it provide any commentary on or explanation of the artists’ works. Rather, it is best seen as a parallel exhibition in book form that strongly echoes the actual show even as it presents entirely original interventions by and in collaboration with the artists.
----------- Triangles Rows of triangles Nothing but triangles Repetition begets infinity ---------------------------------Light Light is not interacting with the work Light is effectively a part of the work The sculpture is not reducible to its physical composition It is the sum of its configurations at different times of day & in different seasons This is a sculpture that absorbs its immediate environment. This is a sculpture that encompasses time.
Take a language and make it exceed itself Minimalist abstraction makes peace with Islamic art & architecture A calm & meditative space Light filtering through latticed windows “Let no one enter here who is ignorant of geometry” is the inscription over the door of Plato’s Academy. The vibrant ways of contrasting colors, with shadows over the lake
oil paint gesso ink canvas wood paper 8/16/35mm innovation is not in the materials scratching – fading – applying ink it is not in the techniques but in their combination it is in the way the same shapes hand manipulation of the celluloid surface motifs gestures of the hand or brush are transferred across media be it drawings
what details can the eye parse
paintings slides film loops every image is more than one image the works are always out of the multiple layers of paint? mediated they are not a result of perception they are a meditation on perception to take an image / to make an image they examine the conditions of vision they require immersion they draw you closer “there is no film missing from my drawings” they are a concentrated force they are passages for you to reach beyond they have passageways that lead nowhere window on a wall ladder on a roof train track on a façade dot dot dot opening think of piranesi’s carceri d’invenzione intricate stairways to hell fragile is the light e v e n t u a l l y t h e f a c e s o l i d i f i e s but this blackness is not a darkness it is an image of human vulnerability we pass the phenomenon of reappearance sometimes occurring in the ceaseless flux of disappearance
like a flicker among multiple tonalities of black and white a sedimentary process pa i nt i n gs i n a ser ies a re l i ke scenes f rom t he sa me fi l m t hey lay ba re colors find their way more easily into the films the workings of a mov ie to be made or a re they the mov ie itself unmade making and unmaking sites of potential unraveled revealing its structure its literal architecture what if the improbable meaning and movement circulation buildings and passageways were narrative arcs conflicting narrative models the act of drawing proposes of a non narrative construction music provides a direction the fugue and its the simultaneity of a multitude of moments counterpoints the images are all surface complicated surface tactile presences tactile presences complicated tactile surface the screening method is just as contrapuntal the doubling of the screen the layers upon layers an opacity in which to see your future reflected differential pacing of slides and 16mm the projectors are raha’s instruments layered, poeticized, abstracted, permutational a fugue in psychiatry is a loss of awareness of one’s own identity the time of THE IMAGE ANALYZED BY IT PROJECTORS, EVEN the viewer a time for seeing fugue is flight the starting point was documentary
You are more beautiful than anyone and yet your body had a flaw: your small hands were not beautiful. Perfection of the body as an impasse of language. Repetition ensues. Restricted vocabulary meets unnatural movement. Sensuous minimalism and the unshapely rhetoric of struggle. ‘I am always writing.’ Do you want to escape historicity? Do you want to be irrelevant?
The girl splendid in walking has walked away. The characters are aggravated by their lack of agency. Complex yet not forbidding. That peace you make by merely walking in a room. Ritual movement Brimming soundtrack The hypnosis of uninterrupted discourse in rambling talk with an image of air Like meaning perceived through the haze of intense emotion
Do you acquire movement the way you would acquire a language? “Exact resemblance to exact resemblance the exact resemblance as exact as resemblance, exactly as resembling, exactly resembling...” Words are organized excess. The question is, can you unlearn movement, language, intonation? Can you willingly forget embodied repetition, putting on burdensome beauty?
“…exactly in resemblance exactly a resemblance, exactly and resemblance. For this is so. Because” in insistence of movement is metamorphosis. Leave unchanged the hands that I have kissed. Give me the ghosts of former movements. “Now actively repeat at all.” It is good to be constantly frustrated. “Have hold and hear, actively repeat at all.” Vague memories, nothing but memories
will you really watch actively undisturbed that is by your own thoughts like a kid sees cockroaches approaching or a goldfish aimlessly drifting in a bowl let the domestic be a digestive organ may the ordinary be transcendental as people demand fluffier carpets the camera is rolling by mistake I love my bedroom boredom vous les entendez sure
& before me floats an image film or paint – a moving image on the painted screen incomplete mirrors of emotion projected on a panel primed for texture among riddles puzzles you insist on putting together a mind map a constellation meaning lose yourself in that rashly ascribed addiction in frantic hindsight mourning hurls the script itself calls for story requires into alignment with narrative mourning the living a scripted self in and the dead hopeful ways to be sad distress she covered him with eighteen blankets his nose nothing but his nose can be seen change the soundtrack make it more bleak lavender is a very good remedy for anxiety the logic of hoping for and despairing over something larger than your mortal body you just lost something in the stream of everything – try remembering mapping out re-membering all the separate parts of a ghost
Rana Begum
Photos by Andy Humber, White Wall Company
We do not see any of the colors pure as they really are, but all are mixed with others; or if not mixed with any other color they are mixed with rays of light and with shadows, and so they appear different and not as they are. (…) For when light falls on something, and, being tinted by it, becomes reddish or greenish, and then the reflected light falls on another color, being again mixed with it, it takes on still another mixture of color. And by being affected in this way, continually but imperceptibly, it sometimes reaches the eyes as a mixture of many colors, (…). So that all colors are a mixture of three things, the light, the medium through which the light is seen, such as water and air, and thirdly, the colors forming the ground from which the light happens to be reflected. — Aristotle, de Coloribus [On Colors], 4th Century B.C.
Sarah Abu Abdallah
YES. YES. NO by Sarah Abu Abdallah
My power of gravity doesn’t include them, I’m afraid
I think I will only nap a little, like max 2 hours or so So, there are boxes And also paintings? And also sculptures So, it is an installation combining all? IT IS A THING
It was a good sleep
Once I spilled boiling water on my hand I covered it in flour and slept And dreamt that there are deep cracks appearing in my hand‌ it hurt so much I woke up and looked at my hand and it was like it never happened I read it on the internet Very useful
Time Time is good
I still can cry about it, I often did throughout the years It’s weirdly not about her, but there is this well of sadness within me pouring out I keep regretting that which never happened but never that which did
I feel dizzy after having a cup of milk‌ is that normal?
If you were given a choice to go anywhere in the world. Where would you go?
What is your Skype?
It was enough It was more than anything I wanted And the thought of not wanting things scared me I need to go take out trash and tidy my room, I feel I’m such a mess You talk like if you were me But I am ;*
I heard everything before It was a matter of seeing
1 sec internet is slow
I made my brother go buy stuff, I shaved my legs in the shower and played video games A lot of the many things I ran by you before But also many of these things I already knew We discovered how much of a big cynic I am
It is not easy. It is not easy. It is not easy.
It is not easy.
Not fun to do dishes, but I’m cooking tomorrow A guy starts clashing with the police and they start arresting people
What about the ones you finished? What about them? @_@ Tell me about them, maybe?
Sure
Hehe I’m watching you I’m grinning but you don’t see me I’m putting it on my TV Why are you awake? Because I’m having a certain kind of day where I am in a certain kind of mood
Will you perform in any way?
No
I’ll just show art works that I love, talk about them Listen to people Damn I wish you were here
Clean people here are rare
It is not interesting to stalk me anymoe Don’t say waste I hate that word :@ Wasted my day Wasted my life :@ :@ Look at your life in the eyes of death I don’t know how to feel about that
After the introduction of glass architecture, the whole of nature in all cultural regions will appear to us in quite a different light. The wealth of coloured glass is bound to give nature another hue, as if a new light were shed over the entire natural world. There will be no need to look at nature through a coloured piece of glass. With all this coloured glass everywhere in buildings, and in speeding cars and air- and water-craft, so much new light will undoubtedly emanate from the glass colours that we may well be able to claim that nature appears in another light. — Paul Scheerbart, Glass Architecture, 1914
I don’t forgive, might as well accept that about myself too
Did you see the photos he put on instagram? Leave aside what you “can” do based on logic Maybe in this transitional space it is necessary to live in your future dreams
What do you want?
I’m getting real cold and sleepy
I hope you understand and acknowledge All that’s passing through It’s constantly been there and throwing all that wasn’t good
I hope we both find the place Where maybe someday we will find our strength
My doctor laughs at me every time I say I have something -,A girl who loves being in the hospital A girl who loves libraries because she’s looking for a book that doesn’t exist
eh you have every reason to be a hypochondriac Dizziness attacks since I know I can’t separate myself from the consequences of proximity, I know the only solution is to physically move away
Bye!!!!!!!!!!!!
I put chili flakes in my coffee My spirit was dead till yesterday Then it died again then it got alive Too alive So it needs to die Because I have no clean clothes
I don’t belong anywhere
I noticed that I lost my glove though So I circled the dead quiet parking lot looking for it
And then once I found it I heard chants and I saw like 500 people coming my way Half an hour later, no sign of her
My life is so funny
I stayed in bed all day, didn’t go to school as promised and stuff
The show can take place in a warehouse or a forest.
Nobody cares
Yesterday I tried writing It does work What did you write? That I am angry Today I don’t know what I want to be asking There is this question whose answer, no matter what it is, will sadden me deeply.
Slowly I find more friends, the whole town was there
If I am not upset about this tonight, I will find another matter to be upset about I think I can reheat the tea for later
I will put you in my eyes >> Arabic to English translation But seriously, I will *.*
I’m so dizzy Why? How many hours did you get to sleep? I slept plenty It’s my iron I believe I downloaded 10 heavy films to watch I will watch them all today Maybe I should write my last words
Everything I can do within my ability, I’ll do it and beyond, to take care of you
Yeah, it is a common thing Anyway if you fear you’re losing it Spinning is a successful method Focus on spinning, and you’ll stay in the dream I just dropped the coffee all over I got an FB alert saying I’ll be blocked if I add any more people I don’t know I also was in Canada and freaked out that I missed the very day of me traveling back
I think I’m sorta tired too and probably should take a nap IT IS ALL POSSIBLE CRAZY BUT POSSIBLE So, I pulled an all nighter So, I have so much on my plate I’m not a great multitasker Right now I’m looking at nursing videos like tutorials for nursing students
He said he was hungry so we went to the kitchen to eat yogurt and we performed a very strange social play where I kept saying “I’m eating yogurt” and he kept circling around the table
I reached the point where I’m fine not to go I did everything I can at this point The movie we were watching I thought I watched it in real life It stung my mouth… I left it to cook more… but the thing with midnight cooking is that it is not exactly patient It was very sad
Tell him I miss him No\
I am somewhere alright Something is not right with me… I’m dizzy and been high on pikachu song… I almost fainted I dreamt I was in New York, I have never been to New York Museum of Science Don’t ask But it was like a homemade museum, very tiny and empty and filled with little vintage inventions
It’s amazing how effortless biking feels now, like I space out when I do it Rain drops on my eyelashes is something to treasure
I gained weight in New York
They arrive at an interior balance like there shouldn’t need to be anything added People see a color that’s not there our responses are stimulated I’m painting them for direct light — Agnes Martin, ‘The Untroubled Mind’, 1972
Personal approach to reality - the ambivalence between dreams/desires and the harsh reality around us But I know it will make me angry at some point
I don’t care though I have the attention span of a goldfish
And I’m super glad and happy we’re this close
Today I feel very proud of the person I am/I am becoming I dreamt I was lost in my neighborhood I dreamt I was sitting on the toilet talking to ***** If he has a cancer moon IT EXPLAINS A LOT In fear and despair I decided I’m sleeping and I can control this shit and came up with a door to myself I knew it wasn’t ethical But I did I dreamt I did
The beginning is brilliant to the point I want to steal
I stand to look at them and a friend shouts at me to join and we march the streets and I feel silly but then I feel silly for feeling silly then it becomes this cycle that is my life
The Death of the Ego or the Death of the Deity??? The most complex decision of your life or what?
I walked in the bookstore towards the very spot the new translated harry potter book should be! and when it was in my hands I felt so useless because I knew it was just a dream and I can’t actually have the thing back with me nor was I able to read it (A year later I was able to read them all in English finally).
I dreamt I was in Sri Lanka
Doa Aly
At the world’s center is a place between the land and seas and the celestial regions where the tripartite universe is joined, from this point everything that’s anywhere (no matter how far off) can be observed, and every voice goes right into its ears. Rumor lives here; she chose this home herself, well situated on a mountaintop, and added on some features of her own; it has innumerable entrances and a thousand apertures—but not one door: by day and night it lies completely open. It is constructed of resounding brass that murmurs constantly and carries back all that it hears, which it reiterates; there is no quiet anywhere within, and not a part of it is free from noise; no clamor here, just whispered murmurings, as of the ocean heard from far away, or like the rumbling of thunder when great Jupiter has made the dark clouds speak. Crowds fill the entryway, a fickle mob that comes and goes; and rumors everywhere, thousands of fabrications mixed with fact, wander the premises, while false reports flit all about. Some fill their idle ears with others’ words, and some go bearing tales elsewhere, while everywhere the fictions grow, as everyone adds on to what he’s heard. Here are Credulity and Heedless Error with Empty Joy and Fearless Consternation; and here, with Unexpected Treachery, are Whispers of Uncertain Origin; nothing that happens, whether here on earth or in the heavens or the seas below, is missed by Rumor as she sweeps the world.
Ovid. ‘House of Rumor’, Metamorphoses: A New Translation, tr. Charles Martin. W. W. Norton & Company, 2005
The House of Rumor
Alaa Abdullatif Prehan Moataz Kane, Sarah. 4.48 Psychosis (Modern Plays), Bloomsbury Methuen Drama, 2000 Sounds Karim Kamel Ahmed Maher Assem Tag Eddine Google translations of: Arabic prose by Assem Tag Eddine, 2015 Kane, Sarah. 4.48 Psychosis (Modern Plays), Bloomsbury Methuen Drama, 2000 Ashour, Noha. (The final forensic report on the victims of Rabaa and Nahda Massacre). Abd El Fattah, Wael. 'Moftaraq Torok' (Crossroads), unpublished newspaper article, 2015
Nariman El Bakry Noura Seif Alaa Abdullatif Malak Mansour Noura Seif Laboria Cuboniks. ‘Manifesto on Xenofeminism: A Politics for Alienation’, 2015 Martyrs. Dir. Pascal Laugier. Bir Film, 2008 Artaud, Antonin. The Theatre http://www.laboriacuboniks.net Artaud, Antonin. The Theatre and its Double, tr. Mary Caroline Richards. Grove Press, 1994 Martyrs. Dir. Pascal Laugier. Bir Film, 2008 Karim Kamel Google translations of: Kane, Sarah. 4.48 Psychosis (Modern Plays), Bloomsbury Methuen Drama, 2000 Abd El-Fattah, Wael. 'Moftaraq Torok' (Crossroads), unpublished newspaper article, 2015
Sara El Adl Apology Letter by Sara El Adl, 2015
Omar Foda Land, Nick. The Thirst for Annihilation: Georges Bataille and Virulent Nihilism. Routledge, 1992
Samy Ahmed El Adl Asser El Badrawy Kane, Sarah. Crave (Modern Plays), Bloomsbury Methuen Drama, 1998 Ovid. ‘Salmacis and Hermaphroditus’, Metamorphoses: A New Translation, tr. Charles Martin. W. W. Norton & Company, 2005 Shorouk News, 10 December 2013. Rilke, Rainer Maria. Auguste Rodin, tr. Jessie Lemont and Hans Trausil. New York, Sunwise turn inc., 1919 Kraepelin, Emil. Dementia Praecox and Paraphrenia. Chicago Medical Book Co., [1919?] Laing, R.D. The Divided Self: The Divided Self: An Existential Study in Sanity and Madness. Penguin Books, 1965
and its Double, tr. Mary Caroline Richards. Grove Press, 1994
Assem Tag Eddine Arabic prose
Malak Mansour [Singing] Cohen, Leonard. ‘Unbecoming’, Book of Longing, McClelland & Stewart, 2008
Samy Ahmed El Adl Kane, Sarah. Crave (Modern Plays), Bloomsbury Methuen Drama, 1998
We always dream in colour. This is part of the history of surfaces. (…) Colour marks exchange. It is border-work. Mixture is our calling. — Lisa Robertson, ‘How to Colour’, 2002
With the sense of color-time, the transformation of structure became essential. (…). Structure rotates, then, in space, becoming itself also temporal: ‘structure time’. Structure and color are inseparable here, as are time and space, and the fusion of these four elements, which I consider dimensions of a single phenomenon, comes about in the work. — Hélio Oiticica, in Jornal do brasil, 1960
Profane Ascension String quartet composed in response to Doa Aly’s four-channel video work, House of Rumor by Amino Belyamani
C-Lizards a small play in four acts by Doa Aly
J: mid-twenties, sanguine S: mid-forties, cynic C3: the third cyber mediator C4: the fourth cyber mediator
Act 1 J: Are we not absolutely incorruptible? When we practice little doses of fascism, doesn’t the most naive amongst us still know better than a hundred tyrants put together? S: The democratic work is not political in the strict sense of the word, it doesn’t sense of the word, it doesn’t
C3: The democratic work is not political in the strict
question injustice as much as normalize it, it’s loaded with possibilities. question injustice as much as normalize it, it’s loaded with possibilities. J: I want freedom in my practice, the autonomous pursuit of truth. C4: A r t i s n o p l a c e f o r h a r m o n y a n d j u s t i c e S: I’m confused by the interchangeable use of freedom and justice. They are quite different terms historically speaking. J: When I’m drawn to a certain subject I should be able to trust my instinct, even if it’s bad conscience. C3: G o o d w i l l p r e v a i l a n d e v i l w i l l b e p u n i s h e d S: Between artworks I hate and ones I love there is a huge waste of lukewarm gestures, they make me think about my body, the days it brings me nothing but grief. J: Let’s go save tortoises, they’re killing them in Alexandria, drink their blood. S: It won’t bring you any closer to a modernist ethos.
C4: HIT ME UP FUN LOVING GUY
J: F*** art, f*** culture, let’s make one turtle happy.
C4: HIT ME UP NO FAKE ALLOWED
S: They’ll laugh at your aimless wandering, call you a f*****. C4: HIT ME UP SEIZE THE DAY J: I want to touch her carapace, watch her crawl happily into the sea. C4: HIT ME UP I’M BORED S: F*****.
Act 2 Every time I’m on an airplane and it’s about to land, that moment the wheels touch the earth I dream of an explosion. Not starting from under my seat, but in the cockpit and shooting up a gigantic ball of fire across the aisle before my eyes. I imagine death to be this vision of death before inevitable death. What if it never came and that moment remained forever, if all life was one protracted instant in the realization of imminent death. Remember! How we really loved each other, and what constituted our happiness. We always met through the creations of others, a pseudo-intellectual field which rose to a fever and filled the space between us like a ball of fire. Doomed algorithms coded in names of demons morphing every utterance into the lingering moan of a cremated culture. We boxed around it in pagan decadence. The swoon of mutual blindness. Our saccadic gravity-defying rituals. Your implosive semi-squares. Your great liberation from Voodoo. Die then if you’re dead, just die! My reason fumbles as cats decipher my thoughts with six laser beams of different colors projecting from massive heads, their bodies atrophying into the past. The metaphysical is here, God-like in cruelty. I grab the metaphysical and bite its ear. It squirms. William J. Perry says the next war is a nuclear war. The next war is a terrorist war. Fear? No. Anger. Deep, slow, poisonous, a repetitive neural oscillator sending messages to the laryngeal muscles, causing them to twitch at a rate of 25 to 150 vibrations per second. A whirr. Not going anywhere. I’ve waited this wait before. The stars won’t collide. I remember them
never colliding. I lied when I said it was OK and it was a dewy opaline morning which it never was. Had narcissus fallen in love with echo he would have spend his life listening to his own words being spoken back at him. It seems to me a much crueler punishment than death.
Act 3 I need friends that know what’s happening everyday you come in last the war man I go to bed whole and wake up in fragments swallowed and racked in my sleep. Does that sound strange? I’m all alone against whole gangs of hostiles I’m not equipped with a damn thing it must be all the Pluto contacts we have. They will kill my family or something fluorescent a moon meme and something else old enough to kill a terrorist elbowed in the knees How can I help? ‘Could we just…?’ Are you a Chinese journalist? Oh well! At least I have you to paddle through this with in the olive green bathtub in the dimly lit bathroom over a decade in nylon petticoats the scrubbing hands most dutiful.
Act 4 S Dreams of artist X: X is drawing a honeycomb pattern on a big sheet of paper; it’s made of circles and stars. C3 Dream of artist A: A is dead and hugs C3 warmly and goes up a ladder to a suspended swimming pool. J Dreams of artist Y: Y has a clarinet and when it plays it says: ‘the confinement sense in Melvin’s music pits construction against structure.’ C4 Dreams of artist B: B has a big fluorescent blue tortoise and asks S, J and C3 if they want to trade it for a cat.
House of Rumor Four-channel audio-video installation, 2016, 19 min 11 sec Director of photography Abdelsalam Moussa Sound engineer Hussein El Sherbini (Epic 101 Studios) Colorist Mahmoud El Touny (Pixel Post House) Production manager Nariman El Bakry Texts taken from The Manifesto on Xenofeminism: A Politics for Alienation by Laboria Cuboniks (2014), Crave (1998) and 4.48 Psychosis (2000) plays by Sarah Kane, ‘Crossroads’ (Moftarak Torok) article by Wael Abd El-Fattah (2015), google translations of 4.48 Psychosis and ‘Crossroads’, The Thirst for Annihilation: Georges Bataille and Virulent Nihilism by Nick Land (1992), the story of ‘Salmacis and Hermaphroditus’ from the Metamorphoses by Ovid, Auguste Rodin by Rainer Maria Rilke (1919), Dementia Praecox and Paraphrenia by Emil Kraepelin (1916), The Divided Self by R. D. Laing (1959), The Theatre and its Double by Antonin Artaud (1938), ‘A Mujahid’s letter to his wife’ found on YouTube (2010), a dialogue from the French film Martyrs (2008). Original writing by Assem Tag Eddine Sara El Adl Produced by The Arab Fund for Arts and Culture Special thanks Judita Salem Tamer Eissa Assistant Director Ola Abulshalashel Directed and edited by Doa Aly All images are courtesy of Doa Aly and Gypsum Gallery.
Raha Raissnia
Images from Mneme (drawings, 2013) and Series in Fugue (paintings, 2015) Texts by Milton Cruz
Mneme 4, 2015. Mixed media drawing. 12 x 19 inches
2353 2352 2351 2348 2543 2342 2339 ----
Mneme 5, 2015. Mixed media drawing. 12 x 19 inches
The stories were never about the stories themselves, but about the room where your voice sounded telling them.
Mneme 6, 2015. Mixed media drawing. 12 x 19 inches
It took only a half tilt of the ear, and the scandalous motet began to reveal itself.
Mneme 7, 2015. Mixed media drawing. 12 x 19 inches
It was a question asked of the frozen ocean. And the asymptote responded:
Mneme 8, 2015. Mixed media drawing. 12 x 19 inches
He sings in regret of the sad life of things.
Mneme 2, 2015. Mixed media drawing. 12 x 19 inches
Inward down, forward slowly, masking closure, rent through the middle, closing again, clenching again at the last tear of the last stone.
Mneme 10, 2015. Mixed media drawing. 12 x 19 inches
A pause, as Philip said of Piero. The combination of things having reached a place, an equilibrium. Then it moves on.
Mneme 11, 2015. Mixed media drawing. 12 x 19 inches
Andante favori: mememormee.
Nombre Nombre. ¿Qué se llama cuanto heriza nos? Se llama Lomismo que padece Nombre nombre nombre nombrE.
O Beloved Build the palace to the eye sets And let me brace the eyeless cup O Rain Pare the golden sun Down the hatch of bright recoil Build a monument to the hollow Follow the lines Fall in and weep Weep on Little Lethe Draw your curlicues on this blue tin immensity Scrape a little song for us all O black mire O Great One O black mire
Mneme 13, 2015. Mixed media drawing. 12 x 19 inches
Mneme 12, 2015. Mixed media drawing. 12 x 19 inches
— Cesar Vallejo, Trilce
My beloved
In the palace of wisdom
“More heavenly than those glittering stars we hold the eternal eyes which the Night hath opened within us.” — Novalis, Hymns to the Night
Concord (Series in Fugue), 2013. Oil and gesso on wood. 24 x 34 inches
Weeping
Breach (Series in Fugue), 2013. Oil and gesso on wood. 24 x 34 inches
Draped in coal
— Sadegh Hedayat, The Blind Owl
Dielink (Series in Fugue), 2013. Oil and gesso on wood. 24 x 34 inches
“The sun, like a golden knife, was steadily paring away the edge of the shade beside the walls.”
Aniso (Series in Fugue), 2013. Oil and gesso on wood. 24 x 34 inches
Pare away the light set before the sun sets. Pair and prudence was a well made well.
Mire (Series in Fugue), 2013. Oil and gesso on wood. 24 x 34 inches
The floorboards, a piano, water boiling for tea, a bit of sand brought in by Lethe.
Parallax (Series in Fugue), 2013. Oil and gesso on wood. 24 x 34 inches
The creak of iron in the hollow distance and a near way into the rain.
as if it were a scene made-up by the mind, that is not mine, but is a made place, that is mine, it is so near to the heart, an eternal pasture folded in all thought so that there is a hall therein that is a made place, created by light wherefrom the shadows that are forms fall. — Robert Duncan, ‘Often I am permitted to Return to a Meadow’, 1960
ﴪب /ﻃﻘﻮس ﺗ ﱡ
as if it were a scene made-up by the mind, that is not mine, but is a made place, that is mine, it is so near to the heart, an eternal pasture folded in all thought so that there is a hall therein that is a made place, created by light wherefrom the shadows that are forms fall. — Robert Duncan, ‘Often I am permitted to Return to a Meadow’, 1960