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Kader Attia 's installation
‘Ghosts' has dominated the media's coverage of the Saatchi Gallery's latest
exhibit Unveiled: New Art from the Middle East .
It is indeed a striking piece, showing 224 Muslim women crafted entirely from
tinfoil crouching in prayer. The figures are hollow and vulnerable, yet their
metallic shimmer lights up the room. The haunting quality of ‘Ghosts' permeates
the rest of the exhibit, whose artists have used their work to express the
trauma of war and the indignity of discrimination.
The theme of gender inequality
pre-dominated the work of male and female artists alike. For instance, Ahmad
Morshedloo 's depiction of a woman at rest is an almost voyeuristic study of a
moment of intimacy and solitude. At
first glance, the piece is cold, rigid, and almost morgue like; yet the
subject's stiffly rendered figure contrasts with the movement in her mass of
hair that dominates the canvas. The painting subtly illustrates the long-standing
constraints on Middle Eastern women in the private sphere, but also comments on
the way in which tradition and custom bequeath power to women. Hair, for
example, has historically in the Middle East
been considered a potent source of female sexuality and sway over men.
A similar ambiguity is evident in
Shadi Ghadirian 's compelling photographs of fully concealed women in the
traditional Iranian chador , whose
faces have been replaced by generic kitchen utensils. The 183 x 183 prints engulf
the room with the anonymity of the shrouded, faceless figures. A current of
violence and resentment underwrites some of the photographs, as steely
cleavers, irons and cheese graters glint ominously in front of the muted,
flowery chadors . Yet there is also a
comedic and tender element to the pieces; Ghadirian manages to instill a sense
of individuality into each of her anonymous subjects, with each utensil
portrays a different facet of womanhood in all its complexity.
Equally powerful were the works
Iraqi artist Halim al-Karim. Al-Karim's photography is informed by his personal
experience with war; he evaded compulsory military service under Saddam Hussein
during the first Gulf War by hiding for three years in a hole covered by rocks.
His distorted, monochromatic print entitled ‘Hidden Prisoner' depicts harrowed,
grotesque faces and evinces the monstrous nature of authoritarianism. The
subjects' almost indistinguishable mouths contrast starkly with their eyes
- wide with terror - forcefully conveying
the political oppression of Saddam's regime.
In a recent review , the Financial
Times panned the ‘Unveiled' exhibit as providing young artists who "have barely
progressed beyond sixth-form competence" with "too much exposure, too soon". On top of their
youth, their artists are accused of portraying their cultural identity in a
"transposed and diluted" fashion and of re-ifying the West's misguided
perceptions of ‘the other'.
But the selection of young
artists based both in the Middle East and
abroad is an opportunity to highlight the way that a new generation is
experiencing and interpreting national identity, exile, and immigration in a
transnational era. It is also a valuable expose of the creativity and
imagination produced under, and by, the conditions of censorship in many Middle
Eastern countries.
‘Unveiled' is a sincere,
critical, and unpretentious examination of the political, social, and cultural
struggles that are unfolding in the region. It is also refreshing in the nuance
and complexity that it brings to issues like gender inequality, the subject of
much clumsy stereotyping in the West. The women depicted by Morshedloo and
Ghadirian are not merely victims of their environment. They are active
re-arrangers of their culture, defying clichés and demanding attention. Like
Kader Attia's ‘Ghosts' these pieces portray an honest vulnerability; but it is
outshined by a sense of strength and resolve.