The works on display at Christie's show the vitality of art in the Arabic-speaking world. But Westerners might have some difficulty seeing them for what they are.
Bryn Haworth
'Ten Fatigued Horses Converse with Nothing' painted by Iraqi artist Kadhim Hayder.
Over the years, I’ve come to think of the big auction houses in London as opulent art galleries. Perhaps that’s inevitable if you can’t hope to afford the merchandise.
Now Christie’s has decided to suspend its usual business and dedicate its walls to an actual exhibition of art.
The works belong to Emirati researcher Sultan Sooud Al-Qassemi — a passionate advocate of art from the Arab world. He is fond of telling a story about being caught out by time zones once and having to wait around for an hour with Bill Clinton.
“If you love something,” the president told him, “you must share it.”
These words encapsulate the purpose behind sharing one’s art collection with the public.
Sultan Al-Qassemi prefers not to think of himself as the owner, but rather the ‘guardian’ of these works. The result is a chance to see a sample – over a hundred pieces – of what his Barjeel Foundation has brought together.
The works on display at Christie’s amply demonstrate the vitality of art in the Arabic-speaking world. They also exemplify some of the difficulties that Western eyes might have in seeing them for what they are.
The works on display at Christie's show the vitality of art in the Arabic-speaking world. But Westerners might have some difficulty seeing them for what they are.
As one enters Christie's from King Street, the first thing you see is a gorgeously decorated stairway flanked by possibly the most sumptuous flower arrangements I've ever seen. The hydrangeas pick up the blue on the stairs.
The picture spliced between the steps is called 'Formative Radiation', by Samia Osseiran Joumblat. This joyous, vibrant picture is supposed to represent the sun and the circularity of energy in the organic world.
Formative Radiation
The fact that it's painted by a woman, and is used as a kind of emblem of the exhibition, highlights the Foundation's commitment to owning equal amounts of pictures by men and women.
Once you have climbed the stairs, in the room usually devoted to auctions you find some of the best pictures, notably a vast canvas by Marwan Kassab-Bachi — a Syrian artist who lived in Germany.
As I stood looking at this picture, a young woman came up to gaze at it too. I asked her what she thought. She said it looked like the dust clouds of the universe revealed by the Hubble telescope. When I pointed out the face among the swirling astral clouds, she was surprised. "I didn't see that!" she said, adding "but I'm a scientist."
The excuse was unnecessary — it's a difficult face to make out, heavily painted, with a forlorn eye.
Further into the room, one comes across 'Nation and Leader' by the self-taught artist, Said Tahsin. This is a fairly unrestrained piece of political hero-worship, showing at its centre a confident Nasser striding before a sea of adoring faces, an olive branch in hand, stamping on a serpent. In the background, above the horizon, mythical white horses, the cavalry of peace, gallop through the air.
On the wall opposite, however, we see the other side of the story. 'Dreams of the Detainee' was painted by Inji Aflatoun.
In an ingenious way, the frame of the picture seems organically continuous with the painting it contains. Everything is held in place.
Although imprisoned by his regime, she later claimed Abdel Nasser was a good patriot. Such ambivalence is not entirely surprising.
Nearby the theme of imprisonment also appears in 'The Visit' by Samir Rafi, an Egyptian artist. The influence of Pharaonic iconography is unmistakable.
Connotations lost on Westerners
But the painting entitled 'Ten Fatigued Horses Converse with Nothing' (1965) illustrates more clearly than a subject like Abdel Nasser or the victims of repressive governments the difficulty of reading Arab art for a Western viewer.
'Ten Fatigued Horses Converse with Nothing' painted by Iraqi artist Kadhim Hayder.
This picture is often identified with the Foundation, but how many in the West would pick up on the depth of its connotations?
Painted by Kadhim Hayder, an Iraqi artist, the horses are part of the 'Epic of the Martyr', which was based on his own poem and followed the coup in Iraq commonly referred to as the Ramadan Revolution, which happened in 1963.
In 'Ten Fatigued Horses Converse with Nothing' painted by Kadhim Hayder, an Iraqi artist, the horses are part of the 'Epic of the Martyr', which followed the 1963 coup in Iraq commonly referred to as the Ramadan Revolution. But how many in the West would pick up on the depth of its connotations?
It also alludes, however, to the grief, particularly among Shiite Muslims, over the death of the Prophet Mohammed's grandson, Hussein.
The mythical white horses are this time not associated with peace, but war. They have just endured a battle and have collapsed in grief. To their right, an isolated green horse is separated from the group and turns its body in the opposite direction, exiled under a blood-red moon. The battle of Karbala is referenced here — a scene of a conflict that led to the early schism in Islam.
Other pictures, though eye-catching, can be equally opaque. Sultan Al-Qassemi confesses to having a crush on one in particular.
Eyes of the Night
Called 'Eyes of the Night', it is by another Iraqi artist, Madiha Omar, and spins graceful swirls based on Arabic letters. As one eminent Arab critic has noted, 'the letters in the painting surprise us, jumping in front of us as if testing our ability to recognise them.'
This use of script is known as Hurufiyah and does not lend itself to legibility, even among Arabs. For a Westerner, it might not even be obvious that this is script. There is also a subtle play on words that is likely to pass such a viewer by, as in Arabic the word for the letter 'ain' is identical in sound to the word for eye.
'The Last Sound'
The most important painting here, according to the head of the Foundation, is called 'The Last Sound', by the Sudanese artist Ibrahim El-Salahi.
At first sight, it is an inscrutable, rather dour painting. But the story behind it helps one see why it is so well regarded.
El-Salahi is considered one of the most important practitioners of the Khartoum School of African Modernism and the Hurufiyah art movement. These artists were intent on combining contemporary art with Islamic calligraphy.
El-Salahi was also imprisoned, for six tormenting months, and yet the experience may well have contributed to his distinctive style. 'In jail,' he has explained: "if someone was found with a pencil or paper, then something terrible would happen."
"So I used to have smaller sheets of paper and I used to draw small embryo forms. Then I added little bits and I used to bury it in the sand outside the cell, just for fear of solitary confinement for 15 days."
"When I came out, I recalled the same idea of making… Each piece (of the work) has to be framed separately because it's an embryo of an idea that I'm not aware of completely. Then when it grows together it creates a whole.'"
Something like this technique can be detected in 'The Last Sound'. It seeks to capture pictorially the final sound made by the soul as it leaves the corporeal world and enters the spiritual state.
Something like this technique can be detected in 'The Last Sound'. It seeks to capture pictorially the final sound made by the soul as it leaves the corporeal world and enters the spiritual state.
The Last Sound
It had a deeply personal significance for El-Salahi, as he painted it shortly after the death of his father, a Muslim cleric, and its muted tones lend it solemnity.
Across the canvas, the curves of letters transmute into subtly drawn animals, such as birds, symbols of the soul, scratched faintly as if they are about to disappear. Throughout, the works of Kandinsky and Juan Miro interact with the more characteristically Arab imagery.
Perhaps this one painting best exemplifies both the challenges and the rewards of bringing the Arab vision to the West. And in Sultan Al-Qassemi the world has an inspirational teacher from that region, who brings to the task of explaining these – hitherto little understood – objects both his enthusiasm and his generous sense of humour.
-Modern and Contemporary Art of the Arab World is at Christie's Headquarters in St. James's, London, till 23 August 2023.
