Gamal Nkrumah on a four-woman exhibition that showcases Sudanese handicrafts in non-Western terms Heba Al-Bashir rejects the notion that tribal handicrafts are exotic treats that spice up the curio shops in the boutiques and five-star hotels of Khartoum and Cairo. Her calligraphic textiles are infused with Sufi mysticism and layered with traditional Sudanese household utensils. "Sudanese art is surging in status," Bashir tells Al-Ahram Weekly. "I don't necessarily believe in hierarchies between high and low art, sophisticated and folk art." There is something doubly poignant about her art, her handicrafts. Like much of what passes for Sudanese art, the expression is simultaneously and profoundly African and Arab, an eclectic combination of the two worlds. In Sudanese culture, Arab and African are not necessarily mutually exclusive. There is a hint of India, too. There are fewer odd blends of style and motif in the African continent. Sudan, after all, is the largest country in Africa. The four Sudanese women artists are all from northern Sudan -- an immense region in its own right. Bashir's show is a confident beginning. "First Cairo then Khartoum," she smiles. The fantasy escapist quality inherent to her style is an integral aspect of the Sudanese character. She selects fabrics traditionally worn by men for use in women's clothing. Then she adds bits and pieces that accentuate the Sudanese feel. The stiffened, handspun cotton of Sudan, the damour, is her fabric of choice. Bashir moves deftly from one dress to another, mimicking the Sudanese dancers who strut like doves with their breasts thrust out and their necks thrown back. Yet there is no hype in her collection. She reaches for a cassock-like dress with patches of soft tan leather, then turns to the symbolic significance of the inscriptions on another gown. Appliquéd Arabic inscriptions in purple and burgundy against the cream damour handspun cotton background. They all tell a story. The Four Feathers, the 1902 novel by A E W Mason adapted for the 1966 film Khartoum starring Charlton Heston as Lord Kitchener and Laurence Olivier as Mohamed Ahmed Al-Mahdi, sprung to mind. Bashir points to a tunic leaning against the wall. It is reminiscent of the patched jibba talismanic tunics of the warriors of the Mahdi, the celebrated historic leader of the Mahdist Movement of Sudan. The quilted and exquisite embroidery outlining the neck and sleeves, and the flared skirts, are typically Sudanese. This time it is held at Al-Sawy Cultural Wheel in Zamalek, Cairo; the next exhibition will be in Khartoum. The military garb, jibba, sported by the warriors of the celebrated Mahdi, the so- called Dervishes, with a scrolled pocket patch here and a tapestry weave there, sharply contrasts with the traditional yards of colourful fabric wrapped around Sudanese women. In Bashir's suitcases are trusty necessities and myriad accessories. An ankle-length safari tunic; belted, off-white smocks -- her work is simple yet eye- catching. "I would like to see damour garments become an indispensable part of a Sudanese lady's wardrobe," she says provocatively. The damour is her iconic signature. Men favoured the fabric in olden days and women rarely wore it. It is a material for the outdoors, strong and sturdy and yet comfortable and cooling in Sudan's scorching heat. Damour is softer than linen, and is cool in summer and warm in winter. "Men enjoyed the luxury in the past, and I believe it's time for women to feel the cool touch of the damour." You name it, she is doing it with a range and variety that is extraordinary. The damour cloth can be dyed but it is far more attractive in its rich, creamy natural state. Bashir combines it with other fabrics such as crochet for sleeves and collar, or even sackcloth. Another artist approaches. Rufaida Mekki of the Jaiyalin tribe hails from the historic town of Berber, which once stood at the heart of the caravan routes running to Arabia and the Hejaz. A daughter of the Jaiyalin, she is proud of these roots. Her grandfather was Amir Al-Alf, Prince of the Thousand Souls, and she proudly displays her array of beautiful artefacts. The Jaiyalin came from the Arabian Peninsula to settle in the Nile Valley and intermarried with the indigenous peoples, including Nubians. Communicating ideas visually is very important to Mekki. She points out the vividly- coloured containers where women store dry perfumes and bokhour (incense). She toys with the dalooka drum, played when the girls sing. The Rashaida, on the other hand, are of pure Arab stock and have resided in Sudan for centuries, roaming the savannah in nomadic tribes and not intermingling with the local Sudanese. Their wares are bead and metal necklaces in intricate designs more suggestive of Arabia and India than Africa, although the bangles and anklets are African. Mekki, an interior designer, is fascinated by accessories and utensils that she dexterously transforms into works of art. Jerteg is an indispensable item of a Sudanese wedding and takes pride of place in a bride's conjugal ensemble. The tray of the jerteg is piled with vases of aromatic oils, sandalwood paste, myrrh and frankincense, and even a glass of frothy camel's milk that the bride and groom sip in turn and then shower each other playfully. The so-called bakhat al-laban (milk-sputtering) is denotative of their new life together. The henna of the groom is called al-gaydonia, but it is far from the stag party of many Western societies. The groom's relatives apply the henna to his hands and feet, but usually avoid the intricate designs of the bride. The event is accompanied with drumming and singing. The bride is not present, but enjoys her own henna party with her girlfriends. The firka, a resplendent and vivacious piece of cloth that both bride and groom wear, is the raw material that the artist uses to accentuate certain elements in her repertoire. Some traditional appurtenances are no longer in vogue, but she is determined to make them fashionable for a modern clientele, as, for instance the grandmother's purse placed inside the copious folds of her thoub, traditional dress. Grandmothers are called habbouba (beloved). Jedla, the gold headgear worn by a bride, is another wonderful work of art that can be turned into a modern accessory. Others pass it down to their daughters, and those without a family heirloom are reduced to renting a jedla for the occasion. Today the Sudanese bride wears a wig and tops it with the jedla. The kharaza wards off the evil eye. Usually it is blue or green, sometimes navy blue, and at times it can be turquoise or aquamarine. The beadwork is South Sudanese inspiration, but the distinctive belts are those of tribal Arab Rashaida women. They wear colourful bead and metallic necklaces, bangles and anklets that are supposed to have therapeutic properties and ward off the evil eye. Jinja material with rough sleeves and pockets complete the picture. While the bridal gold and red are emblematic Sudanese conjugal colours, they are used as decorative features by the Four Feathers. Thuweiba, the artist, is besotted with paint and decorative arts. Her paintings are evocative of her native Sudan. Ancient Nubian symbols and modern acrylic blend naturally in her work. She is also a photographer and has travelled along the Nile to photograph the pyramids of Nubia. The four shows fold into one another. With new dams being constructed in Old Nubia, we reflected on what a disruptive time of profound change this was. "Just look at these monuments," says Thuweiba. Yet it is a thrilling time to be a Sudanese artist. The old is being submerged beneath man-made lakes, and everyone is much taken with the new. At the same time a sparkling revival of Sudanese culture is unfolding. It leaves the onlooker elated and enlivened. The four feathers are indescribably entertaining.
