Sculptor Sherine Mahmoud knows how to make materials breathe and speak, says Osama Kamal When I heard about an exhibition by Sherine Mahmoud entitled "Metamorphosis", I was intrigued. Metamorphosis is a fascinating topic. It evokes images of magic and stratagem, and it brings to my mind the book Metamorphoses by the Roman poet Ovid, as well as several of Shakespeare's sonnets. In religious lore, we hear of the people of Samaria who disobeyed Moses and as a result were turned into monkeys, while according to Sudanese folklore King Solomon gave the city of Sawakin to the Jinn, but when he died the Jinn morphed into cats that still live with us and are capable of unimaginable things. When I walked into the exhibition, which had a long run at the Cairo Atelier from 24 January to 5 March, I felt I had to revise everything I had learnt so far about metamorphosis. Mahmoud has created faces that, although freakish and weird, are beautiful and friendly -- talkative even. For the artist, mutated creatures are not abstract beings, nor extraterrestrial aliens, nor even mythological entities. Her freaks are imbued with thoughts that mirror ours, hers, and yours. Mahmoud admits that the faces she makes are disturbing as well as soothing. They crowd her, shove into her, and sometimes scare her. Often, the faces change shape as she contemplates them. Mahmoud's reaction to her creation varies from understanding to bewilderment, from calm to concern. "We have become sick and senseless freaks. Let the freak float to the surface so that the human may rise again. I have chosen the life of the beautiful freak," I can hear her say. The titles that go with the faces are symbolic: The Satirist, , The Hater, The Lover, The Absent, The Scream, The Cold, The Black. Surprisingly, I felt that had the titles been taken away, I would have been able to guess them. The freaks of Mahmoud reveal themselves to the viewers without disguise. They speak volumes of their origin and pain. I asked Mahmoud why she felt the need to give titles to the faces, although their meaning seems quite clear. She told me that she wanted her message to reach everyone, even those who did not often have the chance to enjoy art. Mahmoud likes clarity in everything. When you talk to her, she expresses herself without ambiguity or concealment. When you look at any of the faces, The Satirist for example, you will recall all the funny people you ever met, all the trenchant comments too. There is undertone of satire surrounding us, and the true artist is the one who grasps it and brings it to the surface. When I contemplated The Scream I could almost hear a long and harsh squeal that sent shivers down my spine. And yet there was something in this face that reminded me of many ordinary faces that I have come across in daily life. There is an absence of identity that exists all around us, that leaves its mark on every face and robs our life of colour, taste and scent. As I went round the exhibition, I saw how close the content of each piece was with its chosen title. Mahmoud had also placed a small black curtain behind every piece, as if presenting it on a stage. Thus she turned the exhibition space into a panoramic scene where the faces lined up, like actors, to be heard. Mahmoud studied sculpture at the Plastic Art College in Cairo, and says she doesn't belong to any particular school of sculpture. Art, for her, is a measure of her human instinct, a way of self expression. Honesty in art, she says, is the magic path to the audience's heart. But she keeps track of all the trends in sculpture, old and new. A fan of Mahmoud Mokhtar and Abdel-Hadi El-Weshahi, Mahmoud describes the two as icons of the art. Mahmoud Mokhtar was a pioneer of Egyptian art who was exceptionally adept at expressing the identity of his country and parlaying tradition into modernity. Abdel-Hadi El-Weshahi transcended the material boundaries of sculpture to create a metaphysical realm that defied gravity and reached up to the sky. After graduating in 2000 Mahmoud took part in several exhibitions, mostly about jewellery and accessories. She is infatuated by the world of jewellery and considers it a refined form of sculpture. There is magic in every material, but only the hand of the artist can bring this magic alive. Mahmoud has worked with various materials such as wood, silver, gold leaf, copper, wire, and cord. She has also created a special mix that makes mud unbreakable. The pieces in Metamorphoses are made of porcelain and another material that Mahmoud developed during six months of experimentation and which she calls "magic mix". She refused to divulge its components to me, because she wants to develop it commercially. When I insisted, she let out that one component of the "magic mix" is paper. I left the exhibition with images of weird faces still flashing in my head. A poetic experience this was, one that was turned into ceramics by a woman who knows how to make materials, a woman who knows how to make the inanimate speak.
