The fourth Luxor International Painting Symposium brought together 10 Egyptian artists and 15 from other parts of Africa. Venus Fouad writes from Luxor The setting was perfect: a series of bedsit/workrooms overlooking the Nile, all connected by a veranda. The 25 artists taking part in the fourth Luxor International Painting Symposium -- which this year took "Africa, Expressions of Identity" as its theme -- were taken on excursions to nearby islands and ancient ruins and used the trips as a time to bond and exchange more than just artistic skills. In lectures and presentations held on the sidelines of the symposium, they discussed topics ranging from city planning and capitalism to euro-centricity and the need to resist the temptations and exigencies of globalisation. The result of their work was rather unusual. Never before have so many attempts at blending African art with Egyptian motifs been conducted on such a scale. Artists offered their own interpretations of Egyptian culture, blending the old with the new, the folkloric with the historical, and infusing it all with the scents and texture of their own countries. South Africa's Sandy Esau's work was energetic, full of action and exploding with colour. He cites his father's career as a maker of wooden children's toys as an influence on his approach to form and texture. And yet it is hard not to see a touch of Claude Monet and Van Gogh in his work. In one painting, he seemed able to fuse his vision of Luxor with scenes from his country; even the crowds looked African, but the street celebrations felt totally Egyptian. Then he ventured into dancing, depicting a woman wearing an Egyptian dancing costume. She too seemed to inhabit two worlds, with something in her posture looking Egyptian while the general air of the painting was definitely African. Egypt's Assem Abdel-Fattah is clearly a fan of local folklore and the rituals of Egyptian entertainment, which he portrayed in a triptych involving street processions accompanied by song and dance. Using the sparkling touches of gold and silver to enhance an energetic palette, Abdel-Fattah employed ancient Egyptian symbols as a way of commentating on current events and contemporary politics. In one haunting image we saw the throne of the deities standing empty, a hint of Egypt's current transitional phase. Mali's Mamadou Diane also exhibited an infatuation with things folkloric. Dayan, who is known for the collection of murals he created for his country for the Olympics, has actually developed his own painting material which includes a blend of sand and oxides that he has copyrighted. Dayan's abstract geometric formations turn natural phenomena such as the sun and the sunset into larger-than-life occurrences. In his work there is a hint of mythology deigning to mimic the reality of everyday life. His depiction of a pyramid, abstract and yet multilayered, is an attempt to push the boundaries of folkloric expression. African artists were particularly impressed by the work of Egypt's veteran painter Essmat Dawstashi, whose dexterity in blending historic and folk tradition is nothing short of legendary. Dawstashi offers a dazzling view of boats, obelisks, cats and Horus-like birds, all inhabiting a word of dreams, ritually appealing to the unfathomable nature of Egypt's mythological past. In one of his paintings we see a praying woman kneeling beside a man who is carrying a mummy, with a serpent drawing closer. A Horus-like falcon observes the scene with interest, as if to signal that ancient beliefs die hard. Egyptian artists Samir Fouad, Ahmad Shiha, Helmi El-Tuni and Effat Hosni enriched the event with paintings blending modern and ancient art. With his extraordinary manipulation of texture and colour, Hosni produced multi-layered compositions of mythical proportions. His painting of a horse and horseman is packed with references to folk traditions, and yet there is something of the freedom of post-revolutionary Egypt in the air, and not a small dose of anticipation. This is particularly noticeable in his depiction of a two-faced woman. One of the faces is old and haggard, the other young and hopeful. Horus, or a bird symbolising him, spreads his wings over the woman, or the two women to offer protection. Which way is the future? The viewers have to guess. Nigeria's Abiodun Ogunfowodu reproduced the famous image of three women musicians performing in an enchanting manner, with earth colours and a mosaic-like composition. In another painting, Oginefudu drew on the art of ancient Egyptian jewellery to produce enchanting decorative formations. Morocco's Ahlam Al-Messeffer mimicked the texture of the stones of ancient temples to produce haunting river scenes in abstract styles. Looking at his paintings, one could see the modern lines of ancient Egyptian art and architecture emerging from beneath the surface, the trip from past to present shortened through the repeated assertion of linearity. Egypt's Ahmad Khalil used fish to symbolise, as the ancients did, plenty and prosperity. His unusual use of the fish motif in the depiction of an ancient Egyptian trinity adds an interesting twist on the thematic fusion of past and present. Another home-grown artst, Fathi Afifi, underscored the serenity of the river and the magic of the Avenue of the Sphinxes with a contemporary touch. In one painting we saw canopic jars exposed to viewers rather than hidden in the bowels of subterranean tombs. The jars were arranged in rows in the manner of the Avenue of the Sphinxes; death paraded, past disembowelled. Afifi's commentary on Egyptian past, or current, psyche did not end here. In "Statue's Guard" he depicted a man standing beside a giant statue in a temple. The man, supposedly the guard, is dwarfed by the sheer mass of the ancient stone creation. Egypt's Tharwat El-Bahr was also interested in giving his own interpretation of the blend of river and temple life. He painted a wall around the river, but there was something about the wall that was ancient and temple-inspired. On the edge of the wall, was a standing falcon, watching, waiting to see what would happen next. Morocco's Ahlam Lemsaffer used horizontal formations in her depiction of ancient nature to create a calming feeling of stability. There was a serenity in her images, part reference to the past, and part hope for the future. Tunisia's Ahlam Al-Messeffer took a choreographic approach to Egyptian symbolism, offering something that transcended art into ritual, while Egypt's Ahmad Shiha used sand and oxides to create compositions of unusual texture, replicating the joviality of ancient art through subtle, and uninterrupted, play of light and shadow. Mohamed Talaat, also Egyptian, revived the interest in old Gourna, the village that was closer to the ancient world than any other and remains a symbol of the link between man and mountain. In a painting called African Mummies, Algeria's Abdelhadi Boudouaya depicted a mummy-shaped women wrapped, shroud-like, in black sheets. The strength in their posture was not diminished by their shrouds, as if their life was not ending but was just beginning. Aichatou Dieng from Senegal used glass panels, acrylic and pen and ink to produce the rhythmic scenery of African themes, reflections on life and culture in various parts of the continent. The symposium was a rare opportunity for interaction among African artists, who are usually more drawn to the West than to each other. They share similar concerns, similar economic and social worries, and much of the attitude to life and society. In this sense the symposium was not just about art but about artists finding their way together and exploring what they had in common. In my view, such encounters were worthy of being documented and, one hopes, being taught in our art schools, where few students know anything about African art. I was thrilled when the Luxor College of Fine Arts, now run by Mohamed El-Orabi, sent some of its students to help out with the organisation of the symposium. This is the kind of life-enhancing experience I should like to see repeated in the future, since our students deserve to be exposed to their counterparts in other parts of the world, but above all in Africa. In the panel debates moderated by art critic Osama Afifi, African artists mentioned how they helped decorate their towns. This is something that we could learn from, and it is not the only one. So let us take seriously the recommendation made at the end of the symposium to hold an African international biennale. It is a simple idea, but it could create a momentum in the right direction. The African artists made it clear that they were willing for a closer exchange of experience with their counterparts on the continent. In the panel discussion more than one artist made the point that artists must be at the forefront of defending the local identity against the encroachment of globalisation. If identity really matters in this country, then perhaps it is wise to start looking southwards.
