Ambiguous Paintings That Bring Scenes of Migration to Mind

Jad's paintings incorporate cinematic techniques (Asharq Al-Awsat)
Jad's paintings incorporate cinematic techniques (Asharq Al-Awsat)
TT

Ambiguous Paintings That Bring Scenes of Migration to Mind

Jad's paintings incorporate cinematic techniques (Asharq Al-Awsat)
Jad's paintings incorporate cinematic techniques (Asharq Al-Awsat)

Egyptian artist Yasser Jad presented a conceptual vision with a degree of cinematic poetry, with shadows of people covering the paintings at his new self-entitled exhibition that will be on display in the Khan el-Maghrabi Hall for Plastic Arts until February 19.

The exhibition is part of Yasser Jad’s new project, Al Mashhad Al Akheer (The Last Scene), which is inspired by Carlos Saura’s Argentine- Spanish film Tango.

Jad tells Asharq Al-Awsat he “is indebted to this genius director whose works I am still learning a lot from.”

Tango depicts the massive wave of European migration to Argentina during the late 19th and early 20th century, which saw mostly Italians and Spaniards, but also those from other nationalities, flock to the country.

Jad builds his visual world with cinematic concepts, as though he is directing his groups inside his paintings’ cadres, incorporating cinematic elements into work by using cinematographic tools. Examining their expressions through light and shadow, he colors his cotton paper with charcoal to grant his figures and protagonists remarkable expressive capacities. He believes that art is in constant need of novel solutions and experimentation: “experimental solutions leave my works surpassing my expectations sometimes.”

The artist leaves plenty of room for his audiences’ imagination as they contemplate his works’ empty chairs. They resemble historical ghosts, but their form leaves them brimming with stories, as do his paintings’ intertwined humans, which the artist chose to draw devoid of features, lurking between the shadows and the darkness. However, in their abstractness, they continue the stories of chairs. Jad says that he creates this distance intentionally so that we may imagine ourselves to be travelers, without knowing if we are departing or returning, whether we have arrived or still have a long way to go.

Despite the immigration scenes’ apparent gloom, the artist believes his work is biased in favor of hope. “The migration scenes, on the surface, appear to deeply express disappointment, which undoubtedly pushes us to leave, but it is by no means the last scene. Emigrating is the first scene, a beginning, which manifests a genuine will to be born again, and all kinds of migrations bring about a new sunrise.”

Perhaps migration and its abundant sentiments are issues that concern Yasser Jad, who considers them to be about humanity first and foremost: “All the themes of my works are concerned with a purely human dimension, even if this human element is not directly or clearly apparent.

"All of my work touches on my being, with it is the faces I see every day as I move around, the places I have lived or whose alleys I have passed through, or in the conceptions and elements that are pitstops in my life journey."



Damascus’ Mazzeh 86 Neighborhood, Witness of The Two-Assad Era

Members of the Syrian Arab Red Crescent stand near the wreckage of a car after what the Syrian state television said was a "guided missile attack" on the car in the Mazzeh area of Damascus, Syria October 21, 2024. REUTERS/Firas Makdesi
Members of the Syrian Arab Red Crescent stand near the wreckage of a car after what the Syrian state television said was a "guided missile attack" on the car in the Mazzeh area of Damascus, Syria October 21, 2024. REUTERS/Firas Makdesi
TT

Damascus’ Mazzeh 86 Neighborhood, Witness of The Two-Assad Era

Members of the Syrian Arab Red Crescent stand near the wreckage of a car after what the Syrian state television said was a "guided missile attack" on the car in the Mazzeh area of Damascus, Syria October 21, 2024. REUTERS/Firas Makdesi
Members of the Syrian Arab Red Crescent stand near the wreckage of a car after what the Syrian state television said was a "guided missile attack" on the car in the Mazzeh area of Damascus, Syria October 21, 2024. REUTERS/Firas Makdesi

In the Mazzeh 86 neighborhood, west of the Syrian capital Damascus, the names of many shops, grocery stores, and public squares still serve as a reminder of the era of ousted Syrian President Bashar al-Assad and his late father, Hafez al-Assad.

This is evident in landmarks like the “Al-Hafez Restaurant,” one of the prominent features of this area. Squares such as “Al-Areen,” “Officers,” and “Bride of the Mountain” evoke memories of the buildings surrounding them, which once housed influential officials and high-ranking officers in intelligence and security agencies. These individuals instilled fear in Syrians for five decades until their historic escape on the night of the regime’s collapse last month.

In this neighborhood, the effects of Israeli bombing are clearly visible, as it was targeted multiple times. Meanwhile, its narrow streets and alleys were strewn with military uniforms abandoned by leaders who fled before military operations arrived and liberated the area from their grip on December 8 of last year.

Here, stark contradictions come to light during a tour by Asharq Al-Awsat in a district that, until recently, was largely loyal to the former president. Muaz, a 42-year-old resident of the area, recounts how most officers and security personnel shed their military uniforms and discarded them in the streets on the night of Assad’s escape.

He said: “Many of them brought down their weapons and military ranks in the streets and fled to their hometowns along the Syrian coast.”

Administratively part of Damascus, Mazzeh 86 consists of concrete blocks randomly built between the Mazzeh Western Villas area, the Mazzeh Highway, and the well-known Sheikh Saad commercial district. Its ownership originally belonged to the residents of the Mazzeh area in Damascus. The region was once agricultural land and rocky mountain terrain. The peaks extending toward Mount Qasioun were previously seized by the Ministry of Defense, which instructed security and army personnel to build homes there without requiring property ownership documents.

Suleiman, a 30-year-old shop owner, who sells white meat and chicken, hails from the city of Jableh in the coastal province of Latakia. His father moved to this neighborhood in the 1970s to work as an army assistant.

Suleiman says he hears the sound of gunfire every evening, while General Security patrols roam the streets “searching for remnants of the former regime and wanted individuals who refuse to surrender their weapons. We fear reprisals and just want to live in peace.”

He mentioned that prices before December 8 were exorbitant and beyond the purchasing power of Syrians, with the price of a kilogram of chicken exceeding 60,000 Syrian pounds and a carton of eggs reaching 75,000.

“A single egg was sold for 2,500 pounds, which is far beyond the purchasing power of any employee in the public or private sector,” due to low salaries and the deteriorating living conditions across the country,” Suleiman added.

On the sides of the roads, pictures of the fugitive president and his father, Hafez al-Assad, were torn down, while military vehicles were parked, awaiting instructions.

Maram, 46, who previously worked as a civilian employee in the Ministry of Defense, says she is waiting for the resolution of employment statuses for workers in army institutions. She stated: “So far, there are no instructions regarding our situation. The army forces and security personnel have been given the opportunity for settlement, but there is no talk about us.”

The neighborhood, in its current form, dates back to the 1980s when Rifaat al-Assad, the younger brother of former President Hafez al-Assad, was allowed to construct the “Defense Palace,” which was referred to as “Brigade 86.” Its location is the same area now known as Mazzeh Jabal 86.

The area is divided into two parts: Mazzeh Madrasa (School) and Mazzeh Khazan (Tank). The first takes its name from the first school built and opened in the area, while the second is named after the water tank that supplies the entire Mazzeh region.

Two sources from the Mazzeh Municipality and the Mukhtar’s office estimate the neighborhood’s current population at approximately 200,000, down from over 300,000 before Assad’s fall. Most residents originate from Syria’s coastal regions, followed by those from interior provinces like Homs and Hama. There was also a portion of Kurds who had moved from the Jazira region in northeastern Syria to live there, but most returned to their areas due to the security grip and after the “Crisis Cell” bombing that killed senior security officials in mid-2012.

Along the main street connecting Al-Huda Square to Al-Sahla Pharmacy, torn images of President Hafez al-Assad are visible for the first time in this area in five decades. On balconies and walls, traces of Bashar al-Assad’s posters remain, bearing witness to his 24-year era.