Marie-Thérèse Abdel-Messih finds the still life, a genre long thought outmoded, alive and well There is a difficulty in organising a still life exhibition, now that for many viewers still life is more or less a thing of the past. However, Mohammed Rizq, curator of the Gezira Arts Centre, ventured on precisely such a project. The "Still Life" exhibition Rizq has organised displays the works of 24 artists of different generations, tendencies and techniques, challenging unjustified prejudice against the genre by showing how it may still be related to our world at present. Still life, as a distinct branch of painting, developed in Egypt along with life painting, at the turn of the 20th century. Towards mid-century several artists tried to develop a still life technique in the terms of their own time, by introducing variations into the former practice in the West. Abou Bakr El-Nawawi (b. 1949) and Sayyed Saad El-Din (b.1944), who participate in this exhibition, are two among many such artists. Abou Bakr El-Nawawi makes use of classical conventions in his oil paintings that depend on linear vision; nevertheless, he adopts them to his local circumstances. The jugs and pitchers represented in his paintings are familiar to the modern viewer, and descend from an earlier tradition in which they were both aesthetic and functional. These containers seem to be accommodated in a linear perspective, but their mirrored reflections in space deflect the pyramidal angle of vision. The glaze and the unknown source of light make us uncertain as to whether the vessels are made of metal or glass. There is an exotic touch that renders them simultaneously material and immaterial. Variations on still life, in this exhibition, show that the genre is not exclusively Western. It is more appropriate, then, to regard it as a series -- rather than a genre -- that may cross national boundaries, and adapt to other cultures. In fact, this exhibition also cuts across period divisions and generation gaps, presenting artists who have started their careers in the 1970s, along with burgeoning artists. If El-Nawawi elevates household utensils from the sordid to the majestic, We'am El-Masri (b. 1976) retains the sordid reality of some empty bottles salvaged from the rubbish. Some of her exhibits represent two opened whisky bottles placed opposite each other, one positioned from a side view, the other from a rear view. Their contours remodel a male and a female human torso in silent exchange. They tell no narrative, but the obscurity of the background suggests an eerie environment. These bottles that once contained a prohibited alcoholic drink, and were repeatedly used in clandestine circumstances, configure the veiled secrecy forming part of our everyday life. Their acquired human attributes feature a drab existence stultified by subjugation and restraint. The interest in still life moves beyond the litter of the kitchen to focus on industrial debris. The daily itinerary of Ateyat Sayyed Ahmed (b. 1935 ) takes her through streets littered with the debris of repair shops. She stumbles accidentally on metal screws, shafts, and spindles. Reaching her office, she has to cope with an antiquated fan and outworn typewriter, objects surviving in a "semi-modernised" ambiance. These discarded objects that have never attracted human attention have been waiting for Ateyat to take an interest in them, and her oil paintings focus on their representation. Still, her eye does not exercise strong control, as these objects slip away from organisation to disrupt any central viewing position. Ironically, these worn out objects are ambivalent. They may be considered as rejects, but their repeated use shows that they have survived the human frailty of past generations, thus giving a sense of secure continuity. Daily use attributes to them a domestic live presence interchangeable with personal presence. In the still life paintings of (b. 1969), the material presence of obsolete objects becomes the focal point. However, unlike Ateyat's representations, the outdated telephones he represents are not met accidentally by the eye, but scrupulously laid in space. The clutter of the disordered objects is brought back to order by the technical values of painting as craft. The artist's technical mastery breaks the ties with everyday reality. There is a masculine construction of visual space similar to El-Nawawi's. Whereas El-Nawawi conveys the esoteric in familiar vessels that have withstood the vicissitudes of time, El-Desouqi's treatment conveys the sense of estrangement that comes with an outmoded machine, familiar but not-as-yet integrated. Fatma Abdel-Rahman (b. 1973) exhibits drawings in black and white representing a detail of a fishing rod or a pulley. In these drawings, the interest shifts from interior space to an engagement with form and detail. The object is viewed with scientific precision in an abstracted space, where the rod is well equilibrated without human intervention. Instead of imposing her own composition, Abdel-Rahman is allowing the form to reveal its own order. The "feminine" is conveyed in the artist's self- negation; the accuracy of detail shows that she is more engaged with discovery than with self- assertion under the pretext of creation. While Abdel-Rahman's interest is centred on the object itself, Asmaa Al-Nawawi (b. 1981) is interested in the relation of the object to the surface surroundings. Her oil paintings represent fragments of coloured design with a mug placed at the edge. The mug acts as a link between the patterned fabric and the blank space that serves as an outer boundary. Although the mug has volume, it is difficult to construct depth because the painting lacks a vanishing point. The eye moves around the contours of the fabric design and the volume of the mug. The focus is on contrasts between the line and the curves, blank space and texture. In turn the texture conveys contrasts between weight and weightlessness, between hot and cold colours, contrasts introducing motion to the composition. This vital motion arouses the viewer from the habitual gaze to tactile space by involving her/him in finding new relations between the flat surface and the three dimensional object. Conversely, Haytham Nawar (b. 1978) is keen on capturing photographic motionlessness. Ironically he uses photography and computer graphics -- in other words digital technology -- to represent an image of haphazardly piled books. For a graphic designer in the digital age of the virtual image, books have become remnants from the past, the way old earthenware pottery, or antiquated fans are to a still life painter. The titles of the books figure Duchamp, Rodin and even Coehlo. Duchamp who had once parodied the Mona Lisa, that stands for the classic par excellence, has now become a classic. Duchamp's book cover represents his famous "urinal" that had earlier disrupted the "sacredness" of the museum. The former innovator has now become a vestige from the past. The books represented in Haytham's print are precariously balanced on the surface to evoke the fragility of their status. The absence of tactile space, the feeling that these books cannot be touched, distances them all the more from the viewer. The contrast between the blank background and the realistic simulation of the books makes the scene even more detached. Inevitably, this new graphic technology eliminates texture from still life, thus dividing the tactile from the visual. These still life paintings should not be considered outside the new art movements. If the still life works of some artists, like Hanan El-Sheikh (b. 1973) and Reda Abdel-Salam (b. 1947), are only fit for decorative purposes, other artists make the viewer reflect on issues related to representational techniques, and methods of controlling vision. The fact that the exhibition ranges from the exotic to the sordid shows different visualisations of domestic space, and a spectrum of responses to the "old" and the "new", a cultural divide that constantly perturbs the viewer. The "Still Life" exhibition at the Gezira Arts Centre will close on 20 October.
