If you want to travel in time as well as space, all you need to do is pay a visit to sculptor Gamal Abdel-Nasser's exhibition at the Zamalek Art Gallery. Born in 1957, Abdel-Nasser graduated from the sculpture department of the Faculty of Fine Arts in 1981; he was a student of the late sculptor Sobhi Gerguis, one of the greats, who passed away in 2013. His sculptures in wood and bronze present a unique postmodern vision. The characters Abdel-Nasser creates speak an international language; their fresh and cheerful colours transport you to a land of beauty. Yet Abdel-Nasser refuses to acknowledge the global register in which he works. “Most people actually see my characters as very local,” he says. “But the point is — all art is international.” What he does acknowledge is that his first major career shift took place following a six-month scholarship in Switzerland. “When I was a student, I rebelled against the repetition and the classic forms we were taught. I was not encouraged, I was even hated by my professors, just because I was different. I remember once asking my professor's permission to paint one of my plaster pieces — he said no. I later worked in an expressionist style in terra cotta but I still didn't paint my sculptures. Then I received a scholarship from Switzerland in 1991, almost ten years after my graduation. “It was in Switzerland that I discovered the beauty of colours. I breathed freedom after I started painting my painting my sculptures. There is no limit to creativity. I had the chance to see exhibitions and art festivals that liberated me even more. I started using scrap metal: the remains of a bicycle, a stool, and I would insert those into my terra cotta sculptures. I also found myself as a painter, finishing a number of paintings in different styles in acrylic. “Another unique experience in 1995 was participating in the Yorkshire African Sculpture Festival, organised by the Delifina Studio Gallery in England especially for African sculptors. I learned a lot from African sculptors. They have peerless skill in merging stone with wood, and they are very passionate. After the workshop ended, I happened to meet a Serbian musician at a music festival held simultaneously. We moved to London and worked together on an exceptional experimental project, which was converting musical instruments into other objects, turning a violin into a chair for example, which we showed at the London Musical Sculpture Performance in the same year. On coming back I was charged with experience, and I started working in different materials.” Perhaps because his father was a violinist —”his career has influenced me a great deal” — musical instruments are a recurrent theme in Abdel-Nasser's work. The present exhibition is dedicated to the late sculptors Girguis and Abdel-Hady El-Weshahy, two major influences besides his father. “El-Weshahy saved me from falling in the trap of chaotic art teaching methods, which was spreading like a virus in Egypt's art schools. I learned a lot from him and Gerguis, who presented a unique example of breaking the rules of classic sculpture, and this is why he established sculptors did not like him much. I had a good relationship with him until he passed away last year. I remember we once participated in the same exhibition, held at the American University in Cairo. I was chosen because, like him, I broke the rules.” Abdel-Nasser has produced sculptures since childhood. “I had the chance to practice my talent at the Garden City Child Cultural Centre, the place where I worked as a civil servant after my graduation.” He also held a number of exhibitions before 1991, at the Spanish Cultural Centre in in 1983 and the Akhnaton Gallery in 1990. In 1991 he exhibited at the Arles Heim Hause in Basel-Switzerland and the Leistal Gallery, and the next year he exhibited at the Egyptian Academy in Rome. In 1999 Abdel-Nasser participated in the Venice Biennale. Two characteristics come across in Abdel-Nasser's work: cheerfulness, and movement. He makes swings, clowns and dancers in motion, sometimes upside down, recalling the bittersweet brilliance of Salah Jahin's vernacular verses. His is not influenced by ancient Egyptian sculpture, which is static and law-abiding. “I believe that the frenzied movement in my works is a sign of rebellion against classic sculpture. I also like reading sarcastic literature and vernacular poetry, let alone watching cartoons. I am infatuated with theatre. I even want to show sculpture figures on stage in a theatrical context, but no one has shown enthusiasm for the idea...” This is intensely mixed-media work, and it makes a pretty good case for the genre. One androgynous figure in orange and green, for example, has sad yet cheerful eyes — a look that pleads for compassion even as it stands proud. Here as elsewhere the warm colours prevail along with swathes of blue, creating an almost Pop Art palette. The happy, peaceful figures are inspired by neighbours and relatives in the middle-class Cairo district of Abdine. “I remember the warmth of these people, part of me misses the spirit of being among them.” Yet the theme of this exhibition is hardly nostalgia. It is rather a response to the the last few years of turmoil: the political contradictions and disappointments of the revolution, though only one piece makes explicit reference to the fact. It features a king on a mobile throne. “This was made in a reference to changing Egypt's presidents in the aftermath of the 25 of January revolution,” Abdel-Nasser says quickly. “I just wanted to deliver the message that Egyptians now have the power to overthrow any undesirable ruler.”
