A new beginning, or a dying trade? Samia Youssef explores the future of stone sculpting at the village of Al-Gurna It would never have occurred to the sculptors of Ramses II that their descendants would still be recreating their ancestors' handiwork, some 3,000 years down the line. Sitting in his shop, Badawi Abul-Komsan, an inhabitant of Luxor, spoke proudly of his trade. He boasted that the Alabaster stones quarried in his hometown of Luxor were superior to those found anywhere in the world. Abul-Komsan is one of the few artists who have not yet been dislocated from Al-Gurna village of Luxor, and, he is still holding on to his home there. Relocating the residents of Al-Gurna to a the new Gurna -- five kilometers away -- came as part of a plan implemented last month to clear the houses of the residents, which had been built over tombs of the ancient Egyptians. Some of the shops won't be relocated, however. The workshops-usually located inside the houses- will be moved to the new Gurna, away from the tombs. The announcement was made last week by the head of the Luxor Supreme City Council.by Samir Farag, the Al-Gurna is still home to skilled artists whose talents are naturally aqcuired. "Look at the colour," Abul-Komsan proudly holds up one of his pieces. Abul-Komsan shops carefully for his raw material, selecting pieces of the right size and colour for the statue that he intends to make. He then buries the stone in the ground, secures it safely in its place, then starts to shape it with a drill that rests on his shoulders. He ultimately shapes it into a statue, or, perhaps a vase or a candle holder. Abul-Komsan uses a variety of stones in his craft. Limestone is best for stelae, while alabaster is for vases and ashtrays. Sandstone is best for sculpting scarabs. "Basalt is the hardest of all the stones I make, but it is perfect for making black pharaonic cats," Abul-Komsan says. Sayyid Ramadan, another local craftsman from Al-Gurna, has been making busts of ancient kings for nearly a half century. "This stone wishes to become a bust of Ramses II," he announces, having spent a moment or two contemplating a small chunk of stone. "Stones have their own secrets, and they don't share them except with those who speak their language." From his kit, he procures a sharp tool. Minutes later, the stone takes on the form of a human face. Later on, he will chisel the features, then paint them, with the same colours used by his predecessors during ancient times. A nearby sign advertises the workshop of Sahri Abdel-Baset, which has also been his home for the past 20 years. The place is covered with large murals, very reminiscent of a pharaonic tomb. This is actually a gimmick that Abdel-Baset uses to attract his clients, and, it is one that works. Much of Abdel-Baset's ouvre is a reproduction of ancient reliefs that were sculpted in limestone. He starts out with a drawing, then proceeds to carve around it until the images appear in relief. The colouring then begins. The place is quite popular. Tourists come here not only to buy, but to admire the work in progress. Sahri is likely to lose his home soon, as part of the renovation plan for the ancient sites that has been going on for months now. He is worried because the homes that will be given to Al-Gouna inhabitants don't come with title deeds. "We have a promise of future ownership ( takhsis ), but the authorities retain the right to terminate the contract, should the inhabitants alter the shape of the residential units. The move is also costly in other ways. "We are being asked to pay what they keep referring to as 'the usual costs'. We don't know what these usual costs are, but if we fail to pay them, we'll get evicted," he says. Sayyid Ramadan's grievances are of a professional nature. "I can live anywhere, so long as transport is available. But this is my workshop, and it is hard to leave it. Tourists, tourist guides, and bus companies know where we are now, and they come to us. Once we move, we would be too far away. If tourists don't come to us, the whole craft could just die."
