Ali Shams El-Din's exhibition in Beirut: Hope clashes with violence in a bleeding dialogue
BEIRUT, Sept 26 (Reuters) - The scars of urban warfare and the tragedies of its citizens are reflected in the paintings of Lebanese artist Ali Shams El-Din in his exhibition "Light in the Shadow of Destruction," which he opened in Beirut, declaring through it "raising light and hope over darkness."
In an exhibition hall in Gemmayzeh, paintings are displayed, some of which are black and intertwined with pink colors.
Shams El-Din began painting his paintings two years ago, when the war in Gaza invaded and occupied some of its titles, and the suffering of other countries and peoples, including Lebanon, accumulated with it.
Shams El-Din considered that the loss of hope and intense sadness that dominated his previous paintings, which he described as "depressing," but today he has added "hope despite the vastness of the tragedy, the spilled blood, and the hell opening over the heads of the living."
Shams El-Din's pen doesn't distinguish between one hell and another, whether in Lebanon, Syria, Sudan, or Palestine. "At the heart of it is Gaza. The tragedy of Gaza needs no explanation, but I insisted on approaching the subject from a different angle."
In an interview with Reuters during the opening of his exhibition yesterday, Thursday, Shams El Din believes that violence, pain and great evil cannot be described or embodied in expressionist paintings because their reality is beyond description. He chose to focus on "the details we notice in people's eyes as they are exposed to this pain and violence. We notice the fear there, but we also sense the determination to continue and survive. We find scattered souls that are not completely broken. We see the wounded bodies that were exposed to all this violence and are still standing on their feet. It is true that some people have died, but there are still people standing, and hope is more beautiful. Violence will not be able to destroy people's dreams."
Shams El-Din (69 years old) is a native of southern Lebanon. He won the Sharjah International Book Fair Award in 1996 for his book “My Friend Who Loves Me Very Much,” and he won the Picture Book Award from the UNESCO Institute for East Asian Cultural Studies in Japan for his illustrations and production of “The Newborn” in 1994.
An introductory brochure for the exhibition stated that the artist in these paintings "does not approach evil as it truly is—dark, murderous, and violent. Rather, it is an attempt to approach, with shame and respect, those who endure wars with their fragile bodies and unbroken spirits. In the dust of this great devastation, color clashes with violence in a bleeding and hidden dialogue, leaving its scars on the surface of the white canvas."
Some of Shams El-Din's paintings were created in his hometown of Arabsalim in southern Lebanon, when the war was raging and the smoke reflected its color onto the murals, making the sky appear black.
He says, "The bombing was close to us, but I didn't reflect the violence, I reflected hope. I didn't want the painting to be gloomy. This is clear. When we look at the paintings from a distance, we see the beautiful, soothing colors, but when we get closer, we see this dialectical relationship between tragedy and joy."
And into the depths of this tragedy, a fabric seeps into the paintings, taking on the color and shape of the Palestinian keffiyeh, joining tragedy and hope together.
The exhibition was attended by a number of art, drawing and media pioneers.
Maher Al-Attar, owner of the Art District gallery where the exhibition was held, told Reuters he was amazed when he saw Shams El-Din's paintings because of the message they conveyed, which addresses violence with joy. He added, "Through these colorful cubes and sculptures, Shams El-Din is trying to convey a message that concerns us all, as Lebanese and Arab peoples living through this period of pain, and that we should read it in a positive way."
Journalist Hanan Issa, of Palestinian origin, said that what caught her attention in Shams El-Din's exhibition was "the Palestinian flag and its keffiyeh. I saw the keffiyeh clearly visible in the painting. On the one hand, it gives us hope, and on the other hand, it shows great sadness, and thus a strange feeling enters your heart."
On the walls of the exhibition is a painting titled "If Your Hand Falls, Pick It Up," a phrase from a poem by the late Palestinian poet Mahmoud Darwish that depicts a tumultuous battle involving color, the hand, birds, and the desire for birth and survival.
Poet and TV presenter Zahi Wehbe commented on the paintings, saying, “The darkness, violence, war and destruction are not just in places. There is destruction in the soul, conscience and humanity because of the brutality today that rules the entire world and everything around us, from Gaza to Lebanon to Syria to Yemen to Libya. I mean, unfortunately, great Arab devastation. But we see the treatment of the issue here through cheerful and happy colors, as if it were a window, meaning that we must not lose hope. It is like a ray of light at the end of the tunnel.”
What caught the attention of sculptor Carol Anja when she saw the paintings was that the painter Shams El Din took his idea and embodied it and gave it titles. “He has colors that we think are unbelievable to go together, but he doesn’t know how to combine them and make it all work. This is how we see that he treats the harsh subjects in this attractive way so that one can receive them and understand them more.”
His son, journalist Adam Shams El-Din, explained to Reuters how his father sits on Jabal al-Rafi' in the south, which is constantly subjected to Israeli airstrikes, painting from deep within the ground, fully aware of the war and destruction taking place around him, his artistic reality inseparable from his surroundings.
He says, "I could sense it even while he was executing the painting, depending on the circumstances and environment he was going through, whether from the war we were living through or its personal effects on him. I could sense a pattern changing, meaning colors were beginning to dominate other colors. For me, this was the greatest proof that he was transforming all the anger, all the love, and all the feelings that surrounded him and affected him into a color translation in his paintings. That's why he refused to withdraw from his village and wanted to experience the war as others do."
This is Shams El-Din's second exhibition, after holding an exhibition two years ago titled "No Place and Lost Time," in which he simulated the crises of collapse, displacement, and migration with a talking brush, launching what he called a "color revolution."
The exhibition "Light in the Shadows of Desolation" continues until October 11.
(Prepared by Laila Bassam for the Arabic edition - Edited by Suha Jado)
