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  • Artists

    Basma Alsharif

    Shadi Habib Allah

    Yazan Khalili

    Maurice Louca

    Jasmina Metwaly

    nasa4nasa

    Basma Alsharif

    Basma Alsharif is an artist and filmmaker, born in 1983 in Kuwait of Palestinian origin, raised between France, the US, and the Gaza Strip. She has a BFA and an MFA from the University of Illinois at Chicago. Basma developed her practice nomadically, living and working in Chicago, Cairo, Beirut, Sharjah, Amman, the Gaza Strip, and Paris. Major exhibitions include: the Whitney Biennial, les Rencontres d’Arles, les Modules at the Palais de Tokyo, Here and Elsewhere at the New Museum, Al Riwaq Biennial Palestine, the Berlin Documentary Forum, the Sharjah Biennial, and Manifesta 8. She is a shortlisted artist of the Abraaj Group Art Prize 2018, received a jury prize at the Sharjah Biennial 9, and was awarded the Marcelino Botin Visual Arts grant.

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    Basma Alsharif. Courtesy of the artist.
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    Deep Sleep, 2014, video still, courtesy of the artist and Galerie Imane Farès.
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    The Story of Milk and Honey, 2011, installation, courtesy of the artist and Galerie Imane Farès.
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    The Story of Milk and Honey, 2011, installation, courtesy of the artist and Galerie Imane Farès.
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    The Story of Milk and Honey, 2011, installation, courtesy of the artist and Galerie Imane Farès.
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    Döppelganging, 2014, performance at Sharjah Art Foundation, 2016, image courtesy Alfredo Rubio.
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    Trompe l'oeil, 2016, installation, image courtesy of Samuel Freeman Gallery, 2017.

    Selected proposal:

    The Philistine is centered around a handmade book that exists in English, Arabic, and French. A sixty-page novella incorporating history, science-fiction, and eroticism, it is accompanied by six stand-alone drawings and three photographs, two chairs with a coffee table, carpeting, and warm lighting. The viewer becomes a part of the work by sitting down to read the book. 

    The book tells the story of a character, the Philistine, taking the train from Lebanon to Egypt via Palestine after learning of her estranged father’s death; she is setting out to retrieve his belongings along the route. Beginning in the present and ending in 30 BC, the narrative rewrites the historical Haifa-Beirut-Tripoli Railway and Palestine Railways, suggesting what such a journey would be like today given that both lines were discontinued with the state of Israel’s creation in 1948. 

    Shadi Habib Allah

    Born in Jerusalem, Palestine in 1977, Shadi Habib Allah received a BFA from Bezalel Academy of Arts and Design and an MFA from Columbia University. He was twice awarded second prize at the A.M. Qattan Foundation Young Artist of the Year Award, was the 2012 recipient of the Louis Comfort Tiffany Award, and has attended residencies at Cittadelarte, Fondazione Pistoletto in Biella, and Gasworks and Delfina in London. He has exhibited at Palestine c/o Venice at the Venice Biennale, Art Statements Art Basel, the Sharjah Biennial, and the New Museum Triennial. Exhibitions include Biscuits and Green Sox Maaike at Reena Spaulings, New York, Empire State at the Palazzo delle Esposizioni, Rome, and Galerie Thaddaeus Ropac, Paris, Frozen Lakes at Artists Space, New York, and Nouvelles Vagues at the Palais de Tokyo, Paris. His films have screened at the International Film Festival Rotterdam, Hamburg Film Festival, Courtisane Festival Belgium, and the Norwegian Film Festival. He lives and works in New York.

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    Shadi Habib Allah. Courtesy Marcel.
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    30KG Shine, 2017, installation view, courtesy of Sharjah Art Foundation.
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    30KG Shine, 2017, installation view, courtesy of Sharjah Art Foundation.
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    S/N: 8F1GNA0021, 2012, installation view, image courtesy of Artists Space.
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    S/N: 8F1GNA0021, 2012, installation view, image courtesy of Artists Space.
    S/N: 8F1GNA0021, 2012, installation view, image courtesy of Artists Space.

    Selected proposal:

    Shadi Habib Allah’s new work began with an immersive engagement with corner stores in Liberty City, Miami, in order to examine government welfare policies and their impact on a largely disenfranchised and marginalized population. Serving as hubs for local communities and centers for non-monetary forms of exchange, the stores maintain an interdependent relationship with their clientele by selling groceries on credit or exchanging food stamps for cash. These exchanges embody the impoverishment, scarcity, and financial inequity that form the basis of the project. Prompted specifically by the distribution policies of the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program and the personal relationships between storeowners and customers, the project consists of a series of images and sculptures that approximate the quotidian nature and social reality of areas such as Liberty City, marked by racial and economic disparity.

    Yazan Khalili

    Yazan Khalili, born in 1981, lives and works in and out of Palestine. He received a BA from Birzeit University, an MA from the Centre for Research Architecture at Goldsmiths, and an MFA from the Sandberg Institute. He was co-founder of Zan Design Studio and the winner of Extract V Young Art Prize 2015. Solo shows include On the Other Side of the Law at Lawrie Shabibi, Dubai, On Love and Other Landscapes at Mumbai Art Room, Mumbai, and Imane Fares Gallery, Paris, The Aliens at Transit Gallery, Mechelen, and Regarding Distance at E.O.A.Projects, London. Group shows include Post-Peace, Württ. Kunstverein Stuttgart, Al Riwaq Biennial Palestine, the Jerusalem Show, Searching for a Present at Espoo Museum of Modern Art, the Shanghai Biennale, The Plough and Other Stars at the Irish Museum of Modern Art, A Million Lines: XII Baltic Triennial, La Mer au Milieu des Terres//Mare Medi Terraneum at Es Baluard, the Berlinale, and Sharjah Biennial. He teaches at Al-Quds Bard University, and is chairman and acting director of the Khalil Sakakini Cultural Centre. 

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    Yazan Khalili. Courtesy Victoria Ushkanova.
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    On the Other Side of the Law, 2017, installation view, courtesy Lawrie Shabibi Gallery.
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    hiding our faces like a dancing wind, 2016, video still, courtesy of the artist.

    Selected proposal:

    Don’t Be a Stranger (working title) continues Yazan Khalili’s examination of developments in algorithm-based technologies. Can we think of these algorithms as ideologies, ghostly paradigms that are constructing our ways of seeing?

    Today’s recognition mechanisms have created a dilemma: we want to be recognized, to be part of the visible and networked world, but not as one fixed identity – we want to be able to reappear as we never appeared before. Not asking how to disappear in front of the technological gaze, but how to appear in front of it, this project explores facial recognition technologies and bio-politics. Working with facial recognition programmers, including Palestinians subcontracted by Israeli companies in the West Bank, and blind people, as well as filming the faces of sculptures and masks in museums and plastic surgery operations, the results are a video essay and an installation with photographic and sculptural elements.

    Maurice Louca

    Maurice Louca is an Egyptian musician and composer born in 1982 in Cairo, where he lives and works. His debut solo album Garraya was released in 2011 on the 100COPIES label, and his 2014 release Benhayyi Al-Baghbaghan (Salute the Parrot) on Nawa Recordings. Maurice is a co-founder of the bands Bikya, Alif, The Dwarfs of East Agouza, and Lekhfa. He was guest curator of Beirut & Beyond 2017, and has composed for numerous projects of theater, film, and contemporary visual art. He frequently tours Europe and the Arab world – recent gigs include Cairo Jazz Club, Shubbak Festival in London, Dancity Festival in Foligno, Ecole Normale Superieure in Paris, Sweden Inkonst, CTM Festival in Berlin, WORM Rotterdam, OCCII in Amsterdam, Recyclart in Brussels, Karlstorbahnhof in Heidelberg, Südpol in Lucerne, Bee Flat in Bern, Cave 12 in Geneva, Instants Chavires in Paris, Le Lieu Unique in Nantes, Kunstencentrum BELGIE in Hasselt, Vera in Groningen, and Baustelle in Leipzig.

    Selected proposal:

    This project realizes Maurice Louca’s ambition to customize and amend particular instruments, mainly percussive melodic instruments, with an interest in tonality — mainly micro tonality and in particular Maqam, but not limited to that. Rather than being a research-based project, it is formed around a core of two new compositions Louca is developing with guest musicians, which incorporate the new possibilities these customized instruments offer. Guest composers and musicians are also invited to compose or improvise pieces of music around them. The results are presented live, as well as through a series of recordings leading to possible releases. 

    Jasmina Metwaly

    Born in 1982 to an Egyptian father and a Polish mother, Jasmina Metwaly is a Cairo-based artist and filmmaker, and a member of the Mosireen collective. She received an MA from the Academy of Fine Arts in Poznan and a Postgraduate Diploma at the Byam Shaw School of Art at Central Saint Martins, London. Metwalyʼs work has been exhibited at international art venues and festivals including S A V V Y Contemporary in Berlin, Sfeir-Semmler Gallery in Beirut, Townhouse gallery in Cairo, Cairo Documenta, IFFR, and Berlinale Forum Expanded. Since 2010 she has also collaborated on projects with filmmaker Philip Rizk. In 2015 their feature-length film Out on the Street was presented in the German Pavilion at the 56th Venice Biennale and at MoMA during the exhibition: Films from Here: Recent Views from the Arab World. In 2017 she was an artist-in-residency at DAAD in Berlin.

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    Jasmina Metwaly. Courtesy Christina Rizk.
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    We Are Not Worried in the Least, 2018, installation view, image courtesy of SAVVY Contemporary.
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    We Are Not Worried in the Least, 2018, installation view, image courtesy of SAVVY Contemporary.

    Selected proposal:

    Jasmina Metwaly’s ’Anbar (Cell) (working title) is a film project involving women from Iraq and Syria who tailor and teach tailoring at a Berlin refugee shelter, an Egyptian tailor with a history of suit-making for the military, three Egyptian lawyers, and two cameramen working for state television in Cairo.

    Professionals with uniforms usually act as types – types of gatekeeper. The uniform disguises the individual and acts as a vestige of power, a skin that differentiates between spheres of civil and stately – or secular and holy. It enables the bearer to decide between legal and illegal, legitimate and illegitimate and, finally, life and death. This film project changes attire and investigates its configurations. The uniform is re-assembled and put back in motion, changing its intended function. And the crime is staged.

    nasa4nasa

    nasa4nasa is a dance collective based in Cairo, co-founded by dancers Noura Seif Hassanein and Salma Abdel Salam in 2016. Salma, born in 1989, holds a BA from the American University in Cairo, completed the three-year professional program at the Cairo Contemporary Dance Center (CCDC), and received her MA from NYU Tisch. In 2016 Salma received the DanceWeb scholarship. Salma teaches performance and dance theory at CCDC as well as various movement and dance courses across Cairo. She is a certified IBBFA barre instructor and is studying to become a Feldenkrais practitioner. Salma has performed with choreographers such as Benoit LaChambre, Tino Sehgal, Yoshiko Chuma, Karima Mansour, Mirette Michail, Mohamed Shafik, Adham Hafez and ExNihilo, and has been published by Ibraaz and ICI Paris. Noura, born in 1985, is a dancer and visual artist. She received a BA from the Faculty of Fine Arts at Helwan University and completed the three-year program at CCDC. She has exhibited at the Cairo Youth Salon, Grand Palais Paris, Carrousel du Louvre in Paris, Tache in Cairo, Photocairo 5, and Gypsum Gallery in Cairo. She has received scholarships from the Henri Jurriens Foundation and DANCEWEB. Noura has performed with choreographers and artists such as Mohamed Shafik, Ex Nihlo, Karima Mansour, Mirette Mechail, Marten Spanberg, Hend el Balouty, Shaymaa Shoukry and recently, with Doa Aly at Art Dubai and the Sharjah Biennale.

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    nasa4nasa. Courtesy the artists.
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    pool series, 2017, dance performance, image courtesy Farah Ashiri.
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    Noha El Kholy, channeling Trisha Brown, 2018, dance performance, courtesy the artists.
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    Suuash, 2018, dance performance, image courtesy Amr Hassan.

    Selected proposal:

    nasa4nasa is drawn to venues of extreme functionality, reappropriating spaces of regimented movement as dance and highlighting dancers as trained bodies. They form a relationship of unison that is mirrored and separated as dictated by the space; each performance ends when both bodies find a way to collapse the space.

    For Suaash, nasa4nasa compile a number of movements that are shuffled, reconfigured, and repeated to adhere to pre-established patterns, in collaboration with musician Asem Tag. Influenced by the squash court, they begin to think of choreography as a way of organizing time and space in order to eventually experience an exhausted and unstructured dance. This exhaustion of structure transforms the space into an atmospheric landscape that romanticizes the red grid they occupy, bringing a female quality to the foreground. Asking: How can you slow down time in a space that demands otherwise? How do you create a rhythmic occupation? How can you dissolve (into) a space? The failure of the imposed grid creates an unobtrusive ending.

    Glossary
    قائمة كلمات
    Copy / repetition
    نسخ / تكرار
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    تضمن هذه الصفحات مشروع تجميع ونشر نصوص جديدة أو منشورة مسبقاً تتعلق بمصطلحات ممارسات الفن المعاصر واللغات المستخدمة لمناقشتها والتفكر بها. على مدى الشهور القادمة، ستكون مجموعة “ملحق غروب على النيل” بمثابة صوت المحرر لهذا المشروع. سيقوموا شهرياً باختيار إحدى المصطلحات المتعلقة بالفن، والتي تحوي تأويلات وتحريفات عند ترجمتها في العربية والإنجليزية. كما سيتولوا أيضاً إيجاد وخلق و في بعد الأحيان تكليف نص مكتوب بكلتا اللغتين، مرتبط المصطلح المختار.

    يسعى “ملحق غروب على النيل” لاتّباع إجراء ذاتي التعليم، لا من أن يكون توجيهي، يسائل المصطلحات واستعمالاتها في كلتا اللغتين. على حد وصفهم “إن المناقشات التي ستنشأ عند السعي لإيجاد أرضية أو قاعدة مشتركة، أو للإتفاق على المدلول أو الإشتقاق الإتيمولوجي لبعض المصطلحات، قد تكون مساحة ذات طاقة وإمكانية.” يعمل الجَمع الفني “ملحق غروب على النيل” مع المترجم زياد شكرون.


    يعمِل “ملحق غروب على النيل” في المقام الأول كفضاء فني يقدم شهرياً معارض لأعمال فنانين في مساحة إحتياطية في شقة واقعة في جاردن سيتي في مدينة القاهرة، ولكنه في الوقت نفسه يعمل كدار نشر، مجموعة أعمال فنية معاصرة، حافظ أرشيف، فنان، كاتب، ساقٍ، قيم فني، وفريق تجهيز. تأسس “ملحق غروب على النيل”في كانون الثاني من العام 2013 وما زال يتطور حتى اليوم.

    في الليلة الثالثة من ليال المهرجان طرق الكاتب باب غرفة مترجمه الفوري. قال “أريدك أن تترجم بحماسة أقل. شيء ما في صوتك يستفزني” تثاءب المترجم ودعك عينيه.

    “ماذا؟”

    “مرة أخرى ، ولو أني متأكد أنك سمعتني جيدا: أريدك أن تكبح من أندفاعك بعض الشىء أثناء الترجمة”

    قالها الكاتب وهو ينظر جسده إلى أعلى واقفا على أطراف أصابعة لجزء من الثانية. يفعل ذلك دائما ، كما للتأكد على كلامه بحركة جسدية حادة. خاصة عندما تكون أعصابه مشدودة.

    ليست المرة الأولى التي يدخل فيها في مواجهة مع أحد مترجميه. في مرة الأخيرة التي زار فيها هذا البلد ، اختاروا له مترجم من أصل سامٍ ، شاب طويل القامة ووسيم ، وكان الناس يظنون في بداية أي لقاء أن المترجم هو الكاتب والكاتب هو المترجم. لا يترددون لحظة ، ما أن يروه يقبضون على يده ويرجوها بحماسة ، وابن الكلب يبتسم ابتسامة خبيثة ولا يعجل بتصحيح الخطأ. فكر جديا في أن يطلب منهم تغييره. لكن في النهاية صعب عليه الشاب – لم يرغب في قطع أكل عيشه. تحمل اسبوعا من الإهانات ونظارات مترجمه التي بدت له مزدرية أحيانا ومتعاطفة أحيانا أخرى – لكن ذلك النوع من التعاطف الذي لا يختلف كثيرا عن الازدراء في نهاية المطاف.

    أما هذه المرة… الأمر غريب. قرر من البداية أنه لن يعرض نفسه لمهزلة شبيهة مرة أخرى ، فاشترط على أدارة المهرجان أن يجلس المترجم في كابينة مغلقة بعيد عن الجمهور ويستقبل الحاضرون الترجمة عن طريق سماعات أذن. واطمأن أكثر عندما تعرف على المترجم شخصياً فور وصوله: كان شخصاً عادياً وغير جذاب بالمرة… لكن مع كل ذلك يلتف الناس حوله بعد القراءة ، يصافحونه ويربتون على كتفه ويهنئونه على أدائه. أما هو، الكاتب، الذي من المفروض أن يكون محط الإهتمام الرئيسي، فيا حيا الله بعض النساء العجائز يقتربن منه في خجل شديد، ثم ينهلن عليه بسيل من الأسئلة والحكايات تعويضاً عن الوحدة والملل اللذين يعانين منهما في حياتهن اليومية. عندما طرق باب المترجم في منتصف الليل كان الكيل قد فاض به فعلاً. لا. ليس مضطراً لتحمل كل ذلك.

    حك المترجم رأسه وقال: “لكن ما هذا الطلب الغريب. ألا تريد أن يعجب الناس بكلامك؟”

    “نعم بالطبع ، لا تكن سخيفاً. لكنني لا أريد أن يعجبوا بطريقة إلقائك”.

    “لا أفهمك. لكن طريقة إلقائي هي طريقة إلقائك. هل سبق أن قلت لك أنني من أشد المعحبين بك؟ لقد راقبتك جيداً. وشاهدت تسجيلات لك قبل مجيئك. حتى الطريقة التي تحرك بها يديك عندما تتكلم – حفظتها عن ظهر قلب واستخدمها وأنا جالس في الكابينة. فكل ذلك ينعكس على طريقة أدائي ، وإن كان غير مرئي للجمهور”.

    وليبرهن على ما قال، رفع المترجم يده اليمنى على مستوى رأسه، ثم جعلها ترفرف كجناح عصفورة. أما الكاتب فوقف متسمراً في مكانه، ثاغر الفم. ففي نفس اللحظة التي رأى فيها الآخر يستنسخ حركات يديه أصابته هلوسة مخيفة: أحس كما لو كان ينظر في مرآة ، مرآه من لحم ودم. حقاً: المترجم كان قصير القامة هو الآخر ، أصلع وبدين مثله، ولا فرق بينهما في السن… بعد بعض ثوان، أو دقائق، أو حتى ساعات من الصمت ضغط على نفسه واستجمع آخر ما لديه من طاقة وقال:

    أسمع يا راجل أنت. إنها قراءتي وأنا حر فيها. وعندما أطلب منك أن تترجم ترجمة أسوأ يعني تترجم ترجمة أسوأ. مفهوم؟”

    لكنه لم يهدأ طوال الليل ولم يغفل له جفن. وعندما رن المنبه كان قد حسم المسألة في ذهنه. ذهب إلى إدارة المهرجان وطلب منهم أن يقرأ نصوصه من كابينة المترجم.    

    On the third night of the festival the writer knocked on the door of the simultaneous translation booth.

    He said, “I want you to translate with less enthusiasm. Something about your voice annoys me.”

    The translator yawned and rubbed his eyes.

    “What?”

    “Once again, although I’m sure you heard me, I want you to curb your enthusiasm a little bit during translation,” the writer said to him, standing his body up on his tiptoes for part of a second.

    He does this occasionally, as if to emphasize his words with a sharp body gesture. Especially when he’s tense.

    This is not the first time he’s confronted his translators.

    The last time he traveled abroad they chose a sophisticated translator for him, a tall handsome young man, and at the beginning of any encounter the audience thought the translator was the writer and the writer was the translator. They didn’t hesitate for a moment, the minute they saw him they grabbed his hands and shook it vigorously, and the son of a bitch would smile slyly and was in no rush to correct the mistake. The writer thought seriously about asking the organizers to replace him. But in the end he pitied the young man—didn’t want to get him fired and cut off his income.

    He survived a week of humiliations, occasional looks that were seemingly contemptuous from his translator, and at other times empathetic looks—but the kind of empathy that isn’t much different from contempt in the end.

    But this time … it’s strange. He decided that he would not expose himself to a similar humiliation—he insisted to the festival organizers that the translator was to sit in a closed booth far from the audience and they could listen to the translation through headphones. He relaxed a bit once he met the translator when he arrived: he was a very normal person and not particularly attractive.

    Despite all this, the people gathered around him after the reading and shook his hands and patted his shoulder and congratulated him on his performance. As for the writer, who is supposed to be the center of attention, there were a few older women who got close to him very shyly and rained on him questions and stories about the loneliness and boredom they suffer from on a daily basis.

    And when he knocked on the door of the translator he had really had enough. No. He did not have to put with all this.

    The translator scratched his head and said: “But what a strange request. Don’t you want people to admire your words?”

    “Yes, of course, don’t be silly. But I don’t want them to admire your delivery.”

    “I don’t understand you, my delivery is your delivery, no? Did I ever mention to you that I’m one of your biggest fans? I’ve observed you well. I watched videos of you before you came. Even the way you move your hands when you speak, I’ve memorized it and I use it while I’m sitting in the cabin. All this is reflected in my performance, even if the audience can’t see it.”

    To prove what he said, the translator raised his right hand to head height and started shaking it like a bird wing. The writer stood in his place, his mouth gaping. The moment he saw the other copying his hand gestures he had a frightening hallucination: he felt like he was looking in the mirror, a mirror of flesh and blood. True, the translator was short, bald and fat like him, and there was no difference between them in age…

    After a few seconds, or minutes, or even hours of silence, he pushed himself and gathered the last bit of energy he had and said:

    “Listen to me. It’s my reading and I’m free to do with it as I please. So when I ask you to do a bad translation then you do a bad translation, understood?”

    But he didn’t calm down for the whole night and he couldn’t close an eyelid. And when the alarm clock rang he had decided what he had to do. He went to the festival administration and told them he would read his texts from the translation booth.

    مرآة ل محمود توفيق ، قصة قصيرة من بلْو (دار ميريت ، القاهرة ، ٢٠١٣)

    Mirror by Mahmoud Tawfik, short story from Blu (Dar Merit, Cairo, 2013)

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    Mophradat’s homepage hosts an editorial project that publishes new and existing texts related to contemporary art practices and the languages used to discuss them. Over the coming months, the art collective Nile Sunset Annex (NSA) has been commissioned to be our editorial voice. NSA selects an art-related word each month that has a twist when translated between Arabic and English, and are finding, creating, or commissioning a text in both languages that relates to the selected word. NSA’s process is intended as self-educational and the glossary, rather than being prescriptive, will question the terms and their uses in both languages. As NSA describes, “the conversations that arise in attempts to find common ground or agree on the significance or etymology of certain words can be a space of potential.” NSA is working on this glossary with translator Ziad Chakaroun.  

    Nile Sunset Annex (NSA) primarily functions as an art space that puts on monthly exhibitions of artists’ work in a spare room in an apartment in Garden City, Cairo, but it also acts as a publishing house, a contemporary art collection, an archivist, an artist, an author, a bartender, a curator, and an installation team. Founded in January 2013, NSA is still evolving.

    1. Huit Tableaux et un Prototype, exhibitions at Galerie Claude Givauden, Paris, 1969 and 1970

    STURTEVANT: Repeated—

    HAINLEY: Exactly.

    STURTEVANT: The same show.

    LOBEL: Is that one year after the other?

    STURTEVANT: Yes.

    HAINLEY: Yes.

    STURTEVANT: Yes.

    HAINLEY: Sixty-nine and ’70.

    LOBEL: So it’s the same show—

    STURTEVANT: Exactly the same show.

    LOBEL: —the following year. [Laughs.]

    STURTEVANT: The following year, yes. [They laugh.] Yes, very strong show.

    HAINLEY: Strong, and it’s so strong, you can do it twice. [They laugh.]

    STURTEVANT: You can do it twice, yes. Well, it was a very good way to demonstrate the power of repetition, you know, in a very simplistic way.

    1. ١. “ثماني لوحات ونموذج أولي”، سلسلة معارض في جاليري كلود جيفودان، باريس، 1969 و1970

     

    ستورتيفانت: مكرر—

    هينلي: بالضبط.

    ستورتيفانت: نفس العرض.

    لوبل: هل كان ذلك عامًا تلو الآخر؟

    ستورتيفانت: نعم.

    هينلي: نعم.

    ستورتيفانت: نعم.

    هينلي: في 69 و70.

    لوبل: هو نفس العرض إذًا—

    ستورتيفانت: نفس العرض بالضبط.

    لوبل: —العام التالي. [يضحك.]

    ستورتيفانت: العام التالي، أجل. [يضحكون.] أجل، عرض قوي جدًا.

    هينلي: قوي، وهو قوي لدرجة أنه يمكنك عرضه مرتين. [يضحكون.]

    ستورتيفانت: أجل، يمكنك عرضه مرتين. كانت طريقة جيدة جدًا لاستعراض قوة التكرار، بطريقة شديدة التبسيط.

    2. America America, exhibition at Galerie J, Paris, 1966

    HAINLEY: And I just wonder, in terms of process, as something that goes on in addition to the physical process of making a work, how would you talk about the scene, the moment—

    STURTEVANT: You mean what was going on around us?

    HAINLEY: Exactly, as part of process or concept.

    STURTEVANT: Well, firstly process because it’s part of the creative process, so it’s very important. Then, yeah, because that must have been—at that time, things were really shifting from interior to exterior, or at that time, you would call it up to the surface. And so—and then all the mass—all the images were from mass society. Mass—what do I want to say?

    LOBEL: Mass media?

    STURTEVANT: Mass media, or mass—

    LOBEL: Or mass culture?

    STURTEVANT: Messy mass. [They laugh.] So this is very surface. You’re really going to the outside, and then all the collectors were very much into that, so then you had all those artists that were involved with the outside. And so the work became—it was still about beauty, but it was not about anything very profound other than, which is profound, a reflection of the society that we were surrounded by.

    LOBEL: Speaking of which, can you say anything about the title of the Galerie J show in 1966, which was America, America? Because […] you’re really thinking through the kind of, for me, the possibilities of this kind of process and practice. And to have it in Paris and call it America, America – it seems significant to me.

    STURTEVANT: Well that’s because it was all the works. I had Oldenburg; I had Lichtenstein—

    HAINLEY: Wesselmann.

    STURTEVANT: Wesselmann, and George Segal and [Frank] Stella. That’s America, baby. [Laughs.] I did all that work when I was down in the south of France. I had a studio in the south of France, and so it was on the street level in an old part of Antibes and there was a—it had a big window and because it was open, some guy—[laughs]—I’m sure I told you this story. So some guy stops by and he says are you Jasper Johns? [Hainley and Lobel laugh.] Because I was working on the Flag, and I said, “Yes.” [Hainley and Lobel laugh]. He said, “Oh.” “Here I am.” So I told that story to Jasper and he hated it. [They laugh.] He hated that story.

    1. ٢. “أمريكا، أمريكا”، معرض في جاليري جي، باريس، 1966

     

    هينلي: وكنت أود أن أعرف، من حيث المسار، بينما يحدث شيء بالإضافة إلى المسار المادي لصناعة العمل، كيف تصفين المشهد، هذه اللحظة—

    ستورتيفانت: تعني ما يحدث حولنا؟

    هينلي: بالضبط، كجزء من المسار أو المفهوم.

    ستورتيفانت: حسنًا، المسار أولًا لأنه جزء من المسار الإبداعي، ولذا فهو شديد الأهمية. ثم، أجل، لأنه كان بلا شك—في ذلك الوقت كانت الأشياء تنتقل فعلًا من الداخلي إلى الخارجي، أو في ذلك الوقت كنت تستدعيها إلى السطح. وهكذا—ثم كل ما هو جماهيري من حيث—كل الصور كانت من المجتمع الجماهيري. جماهيري من حيث—ما الذي أريد قوله؟

    لوبل: الإعلام الجماهيري؟

    ستورتيفانت: الإعلام الجماهيري، أو جماهيري من حيث—

    لوبل: أو الثقافة الجماهيرية؟

    ستورتيفانت: جماهيري متجمهر. [يضحكون.] هذا سطحي للغاية إذًا. أنت تتجه إلى الخارج حقًا، ثم أعجب هواة الجمع كلهم بالأمر، ثم أصبح لديك كل هؤلاء الفنانين المهتمين بالخارج. وهكذا أصبح العمل—كان لم يزل معنيًا بالجمال، لكنه لم يكن معنيًا بأي شيء بالغ العمق سوى، وهو أمر عميق أيضًا، انعكاس المجتمع الذي يحيط بنا.

    لوبل: بالمناسبة، هل يمكن أن تحدثينا عن عنوان معرض جاليري جي عام 1966 “أمريكا، أمريكا”؟ لأنك […] تفكرين مليًا في نوع، أو بالنسبة لي، إمكانيات هذا النوع من المسارات والممارسات. وأن يقام معرض كهذا في باريس بعنوان “أمريكا، أمريكا”—يبدو لي أمرًا مهمًا.

    ستورتيفانت: هذا لأنه ضم جميع الأعمال. كان لدي أولدنبرج، وكان لدي ليشتنشتاين—

    هينلي: ويسلمان.

    ستورتيفانت: ويسلمان وجورج سيجال و[فرانك] ستيلا. هذه أمريكا يا عزيزي. [تضحك.] أنجزت العمل كله عندما كنت في جنوب فرنسا. كان لدي ستوديو في جنوب فرنسا، وكان بمستوى الشارع في جزء قديم بمدينة أنتيب وكان هناك—كانت به نافذة كبيرة ولأنها كانت مفتوحة جاء رجل—[تضحك]—أنا متأكدة أني حكيت لك هذه القصة. جاء رجل وتوقف ليسأل هل أنت جاسبر جونز؟ [يضحك هينلي ولوبل.] وبما أني كنت أعمل على “العلم” قلت “نعم.” [يضحك هينلي ولوبل.] فقال: “ياه.” “ها أنا.” وعندما حكيت هذه الحكاية لجاسبر امتعض. [يضحكون.] امتعض من هذه الحكاية.

    3. Sturtevant: Studies for Warhol’s Marilyns, Beuys’ Actions and Objects and Duchamp’s etc, Including Film, exhibition catalogue (ed. Judson Rosebush), Everson Museum, New York, 1973

    LOBEL: […] one of the things I want to put on the record, because I think it’s something I had totally missed until Bruce pointed it out to me, and it gets back to the issue of copy, although in a much more pointed, technical way, is the catalogue to your 1973 Everson show, which, when I saw it originally, I saw it as a photocopy, and I thought, oh, someone Xeroxed this very poorly. And then, Bruce corrected me and said, “No, the catalog was actually printed.” Am I getting this right? The catalog was—

    HAINLEY: —Printed to look like a Xerox copy.

    STURTEVANT: Well, it was a Xerox copy that I absolutely insisted had to be printed.

    […]

    LOBEL: I’m just saying that it was another way of thinking about this discourse around copy.

    STURTEVANT: Copy? What was another way?

    LOBEL: Making the catalog like—

    HAINLEY: Printing it rather than allowing it—

    STURTEVANT: No, no, no, because I don’t think trying—no, I don’t think that was based on copy at all. This is because this was based on the dynamics of repetition, which is nothing to do with copy. And so, repetition is—you have to—repetition is displacement; repetition is difference; repetition is—what else is repetition? Repetition is pushing the limits of resemblance and limitation—repetition is—it has some other factors or dynamics. So it’s not like—it’s not like saying you repeat. See, the interesting thing is, for instance, Andy Warhol repeated, but he did not do repetition. And his brilliance really lies in the fact that he was—because repeat is surface. You’re just talking about the surface. He managed to take repeat and make it into a very, very dynamic thing. So I mean, for me, that’s where his brilliance lies. But repetition has nothing to do with repeating. So I think that’s a basic premise that people do not—

    But I’d like to get off this copy nonsense, if we could, because for me, that’s really a finished subject.  And I don’t care whether they think it’s copy or not. You know, we’re moving ahead anyhow.

    1. ٣. “ستورتيفانت: دراسات عن مارلينات ورهول، وحركات وأغراض بويز، وأعمال دوشومب، إلخ، تتضمن فيلم”، كتالوج المعرض (حرره جدسن روزبوش)، متحف افرسون في نيويورك، 1973

     

    لوبل: […] من ضمن ما أود تسجيله في حديثنا، لأني أظن أني أغفلته تمامًا حتى نبهني بروس إليه، وهو أمر يعود بنا إلى موضوع النسخ، وإن كان بطريقة أكثر حدة وتقنية، هو كتالوج عرض افرسون الخاص بك في 1973، والذي رأيته، عندما رأيته في الأصل، كنسخة مصورة، وقلت لنفسي، ياه، لقد صنع أحدهم نسخة ردئية للغاية بماكينة تصوير. ثم صحح لي بروس الأمر وقال: “لا، بل هذا الكتالوج المطبوع.” هل فهمت ذلك بصورة صحيحة؟ هذا الكتالوج كان—

    هينلي: مطبوعًا ليبدو كنسخة مصورة.

    ستورتيفانت: الحقيقة أنه كان نسخة مصورة أصررت قطعًا على طباعتها.

    […]

    لوبل: ما أريد قوله إنها كانت طريقة أخرى للتفكير في هذا الحديث حول النسخ.

    ستورتيفانت: النسخ؟ أي طريقة أخرى؟

    لوبل: صنع الكتالوج مثل—

    هينلي: طباعته بدلًا من تركه—

    ستورتيفانت: لا، لا، لا، لأني لا أرى أن محاولة—لا، لا أظن أنه كان قائم على النسخ على الإطلاق. وهذا لأنه كان يقوم على ديناميكيات التكرار، وهو أمر لا علاقة له بالنسخ. وهكذا، فالتكرار هو—لا بد لك—التكرار ترحيل. التكرار اختلاف. التكرار—ما التكرار غير ذلك؟ التكرار هو دفع حدود التشابه والقيود—التكرار هو—به بعض العوامل أو الديناميكيات الأخرى. ولذا فهو ليس مثل—ليس مثل أن نقول إنك تعيد. انظر، الأمر المثير للاهتمام، على سبيل المثال، أن آندي ورهول قد أعاد، لكنه لم يقم بالتكرار. وإن عبقريته تكمن حقًا في أنه كان يفعل ذلك—لأن الإعادة هي السطح. أنت تتحدث عن السطح وحسب. لكنه تمكن من أخذ الإعادة وتحويلها إلى شيء ديناميكي جدًا جدًا. أعني أن هنا، بالنسبة لي، تكمن عبقريته. لكن التكرار لا علاقة له بالإعادة. ولذا أظن أن الافتراض الأساسي الذي يعجز الناس عن—

    لكنى أود أن نتجاوز سخافات النسخ هذه، إذا أمكن، لأني أرى أن هذا موضوع منتهٍ حقًا. وأنا لا أبالي سواء ظنوا أنها نسخة أم لا. كما تعلم، نحن نمضي قدمًا على أي حال.

    Excerpts from an interview with Sturtevant conducted in 2007 by Bruce Hainley & Michael Lobel at the Archives of American Art, New York

    مقتطفات من: حوار مع ستورتيفانت أجراه في 2007 بروس هينلي ومايكل لوبل في أرشيف الفن الأمريكي في نيويورك

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