Rania Khallaf discerns a blossoming new talent in an unforeseen space I was wandering through the galleries of the Palace of Arts at the Cairo Opera House a couple of weeks ago, where the General Art Exhibition had just opened, when I accidentally came across the poet Ahmed El-Shahawi in an unusually cheerful mood. "Did you have a look on my paintings?" he asked. I smiled, thinking this must be a joke, but he insisted that I should go back upstairs to the third floor to see his work. This was the first I knew of Shahawi being an artist as well as a poet, but that afternoon I was quite exhausted and reeling from the huge number of paintings and sculptures I had already seen. I kept my promise, however, and went back two days later. Ahmed El-Shahawi is a renowned name in the world of poetry. Born in 1960 in Dumyat (Damietta), he has so far published 10 or so anthologies. The first, Two Prayers for Love, was published in 1988, to be followed by other significant collections such as Talks (1991), Book of Love (1992, Lovers' Situations (2001) and others that have resonated through both Arab and International literary circles. Shahawi's sublime poetry notwithstanding, the 10 paintings he is showing at the General Art Exhibition took me by surprise. There is this white space in almost all the paintings from which he initiates his project. There is an obvious debate in each and every work: a dialectic argument between white and black; the observable and the hidden; joy and sadness. The paintings cordially invite the viewer to take part in endless reflection and interpretation of a rich and yet bewildering and wonderful space of mixed colours. By giving no titles to the paintings Shahawi gives the viewer an opportunity to read and interpret the works. One of the most intriguing of the 10 works on view has a large gold spot at the centre, while on the upper right, fixing the balance of the painting, are black symbols resembling hieroglyphs. It seemed to me as if I were facing a golden fish that was ready to swim out of the shackles imposed on her by the dull frame. Another of the works was a large, circular black spot that sprang out of white. At the centre of the circle were symbols and calligraphic items that flew freely in a certain orbit. I instantly felt that it was an eye, a mirror that reflected the things that pass in front of one's own eyes as a matter of course. Shahawi even surprised himself by his sudden surge of artistic production. He told me that he used to be an ardent visitor to international museums and art exhibitions, especially in Europe and Latin America, but it never occurred to him that he himself might play a part in the art world. Shahawi's spiritual mentor is the painter he loves most, Joan Miro. "He is an example of the true, instinctive artist," he told Al-Ahram Weekly. "I am most affected by his expressive abstract school and his childish spirit." He also admires the Swiss artist Paul Klee, who visited Egypt, Morocco, Tunisia and whose art was much influenced by the Arab civilization. "I have always had this obsession to write contemporary poetry that has this Arab spirit," Shahawi says. "All the same, in my artistic work my desire is to reflect the vision and character of an Arab artist who lives in a small global city." Calligraphy plays a major part in his magical works. He is, after all, a brilliant calligrapher, a gift he inherited from his father. And as a lover of calligraphy and poetry, he allows Arabic lettering and hieroglyphic symbols to float naturally on the surface of his work. The paintings are all in water color, a medium perfectly chosen to convey the poet's eternal quest for abstract meanings: love, faith, and beauty. Shahawi uses everyday tools to produce his art: tooth brushes; materials plucked from his grocery bag; combs; spoons and perfumes. "I believe an artist should invent some of the tools he uses from the things around him. I still remember my late friend, the creative calligrapher Hamed El-Awidi, using coffee dregs for the final touches of his calligraphic paintings." The multi-talented Shahawi is proving extremely prolific. He has accomplished close to 100 paintings in only six months, but he sees his new talent as complementary to his original identity as a poet. He merely perceives himself as one of a series of writers who have also produced art, such as Gunter Grass, Adonis and Mounir Kanaan. "Some of my paintings are immediate interpretations of certain poems of mine," he says. Shahawi intends to publish an art book that combines bits and pieces of his poetry together with his paintings. It has already found a publisher in the Egyptian Lebanese House. He will also be showing at the Autumn Fair in Paris in November. At approximately the same time as the Paris show, Shahawi will be holding his first private exhibition of 80 paintings in Cairo. There is no special theme for his upcoming exhibition, but he says it revolves around the concept of the point. "It is more of a Sufi subject, which has been dealt by several great Sufi philosophers like Al-Nefari and Ibn Al-Halag. Everything in life starts and ends with a point. It is the target and quest of every human being on earth. It is the start of a circle, the circle of life." "I have always been haunted by the magic spurred by colour. In my poems there has always been an eternal celebration of colour. Now when I interact with colour on a daily basis I feel like a happy child inventing new world of colour." He beams at the thought. "I really feel freer now than I ever have before. Art entails an unexpectedly free space for the artist compared with any other media." And he gives me a wink
