Painter speaks to Nader Habib about his work and recent exhibition Sometimes, you go to galleries, with an intention to get yourself involved, some way or another, with the paintings and their figures. This time, however, they are the figures; illustrated by artist , that marvellously invite you to interact with them. "I am interested in the life of society as a whole. When I oppose globalisation, it is because it hits the poor the hardest, and makes them poorer. Artists don't just work with colour and shape. The focus of their work is an idea, one that goes beyond the aesthetics and touches on shared realities," says 48-year-old El-Balshy. The names of his exhibitions offer insight into the way he regards life in general: Thirst, Hunger, Street Children, Inside Outside, and lastly Washing Line. "These are things I care about. When a factory closes down, it touches me. When workers lose their jobs, I care. I worry about the homeless, and about the waste of Nile water. I even had an exhibition about water 20 years ago," says El-Balshy. "I belong to the German expressionist school," he explains, "which means that I aim to jolt the viewer into the aspects of reality one usually overlooks. I use a bit of symbolism and coded language to get my message through." Giving a proper title for this exhibition has been a rather perplexing issue. "I was wondering, shall I call it a 'Common Law Marriage' or 'Washing Line'. Some of my friends wondered how I would present common law marriage in a painting. They believe that this was more of a literary topic, which could be true. But I found a solution. There is always a way of discussing a literary idea without being literal," he recalls. "In the main piece, you see a washing line and a boy and girl embracing across it. This is the way boys and girls used to meet in the past. The girl would take the washing to hang it upstairs and the boy would be waiting for her. It may seem clichéd, but I took it a step further, turning the washing line into a symbolic barrier, into an imaginary wall separating men and women." His paintings draw upon the experiences of his life, all the way from childhood. "The washing line may be a symbol of romance, and yet again some people steal laundry. These are all literary themes that I portray in colours. In this painting, I used red and blue to suggest conflict and a bit of grey to help the viewer find his path. I used a palette knife to apply the colours, as I always do, because it offers the intensity of emotion that I need." "The knife leaves a rough mark on the canvass, a totally different texture from that of the brush. I never use a brush, by the way," he explains. One of the paintings shows the indecision of the boy, the risks lying ahead, and the pitfalls strewn around. "I offer a dilemma with endless possibilities, leaving the rest to the viewer to figure out," he comments. Another painting, which he called "Butchered", portrays three women waiting for their turn to be slaughtered. "There is a fourth woman that you only partly see, and she's being butchered. What I am saying here is that women are being cheated out of their lives. They have fought for careers, and now they are being hit with common law marriage, a definite step backward. Women deserve better." A true, real intellectual would explore answers through his work. I can see the suffering in the eyes of the workers who line up every day for a day's work. I can sense their helplessness and pain. "You will notice that all my work is related to themes of loss and need. When the Al-Salam ferryboat went down, I started working on a piece that I named Ferryboat 2006. I needed to remind people of history. How could I not be moved by a train on fire? How can I not be moved by the killings in Iraq and Palestine? Things that happen to many people interest me." "I come from Birkat Al-Sabaa in the Nile Delta. I lived in Cairo for a while and still keep a home here, but I run away to my village every now and again to be able to take a deep breath and think about it all," El-Balshy says. "I remember my teacher in elementary school. His name was Amin Mansour, and he used to go from one class to another, dragging me behind him, to show my work to other students and encourage them to paint. In my village, you can make statues out of mud from the banks of the canals," he recalls. "I come from a family that is immersed in politics and debate. I grew up surrounded by books, and I saw my older brother teaching children to draw during the summer holidays. He wouldn't teach me though, because he wanted me to study instead," he added. "This made me a bit of a rebel actually. I knew I had to stand up for myself. I actually was a bit undisciplined as a child. I was always defying authority and looking for new ways to do things. This is why I always find myself drawn to underdogs and outsiders," he smiles.
