2/9/2005 Home is where the art is: Arab-American artists explore their longing for home
Kelly Westhoff
The struggle to reconcile the culture you live in with the culture you come from is a key theme in the group exhibit "Haneen: Between Home and Homeland." In Arabic, haneen means longing. The works of the 10 artists presented in this year's show embrace the theme of longing for a homeland that too often seems at odds with the place one calls home.
"Some of the artists are second generation Arabs in the United States. They are trying to connect to their Arab roots and find beauty there; they are struggling to connect with the culture," explained exhibit's curator Hend Al-Mansour. "But some are first generation, like me, and they struggle with their feeling of discomfort for their home culture."
This is the third year the grassroots group, Arab Artists in the Twin Cities, has organized a group show. This year, the show is sponsored by the Women's Art Registry of Minnesota (WARM). It opens Feb. 12 at the Instituto de Cultura y Education in Minneapolis.
"We are trying to create an artistic and cultural community of Arabs in Minnesota," explained Al-Mansour. It is working. Each year the exhibit has grown both in the number of artists and the size of the audience. Of the 10 participating artists this year, six are women. We spoke with several of them about their art and their sense of home.
Hend Al-Mansour
Hend Al-Mansour moved to the United States from Saudi Arabia seven years ago. The process of moving from one culture to another has forced Al-Monsour to discover new facets of her identity‹especially since 9/11.
"I struggle within me," she said, "about why 9/11 happened. What does it say about me? About Arabs? I started being aware of my own culture, trying to understand why this happened."
Al-Mansour's questions are shaping her art. One theme she finds herself drawn to is the diversity within Arab culture that often goes unnoticed by Western media. "There are clashes of culture and otherness of people within Saudi Arabia and Islam," she explained. "I don't always worship what you worship. I can be different from you."
To help illustrate her point, Al-Mansour creates installations that enclose viewers in a small, private space. Inside, the silk-screened walls juxtapose images; subjects often considered taboo in the Arab world, like homosexuality, next to traditional Islamic teachings, like verses from the Koran. "I try to put in my art a demonstration or rebellious thing against Islam," she said.
Her rebelliousness has shocked some Arab audiences. "Some would not accept [my work]. It offended them," she said. "But Americans are more accepting. It is for them educational. They ask questions about the culture. And that is my aim, my goal."
Jumana Al Hashal
Jumana Al Hashal sees little use for color in her art. "I appreciate color," she explained. "I like color. But I have no use for it. I use it, but if and only when there is a purpose for it."
Al Hashal's sparse use of color results in silk-screened images that are stark and graphic. Sharp contrast is something Al Hashal is familiar with in her own life. She made her way to Minnesota from Canada, where she attended college, but she was raised in Jordan, which borders Iraq.
When she returns home to Jordan to spend time with family, Al Hashal finds herself grasping to reconcile two sides of a bloody international conflict. The Middle East and the West, she said, "are so intrinsically different from each other; they seem to be in perpetual conflict. In fact, it seems that the existence of one negates the existence of the other. But the journey back and forth forces you to see the others' side‹it heightens the tension."
To help break the tension, Al-Hashal discovered satire. Her art incorporates political satire as a means to make her audience laugh, in turn breaking their uncomfortable silence surrounding the issues of the Middle East. Once the silence has been broken, Al Hashal asserted, conversation can begin. "As long as you are angry," she pointed out, "you can't discuss anything rationally."
Sarah Ahmed
Sarah Ahmed grew up speaking Arabic and English, but she could only read and write in one: English. Arabic was spoken at home. English was taught at school.
It wasn't until Ahmed reached her late teens that she began to yearn for the written word in Arabic. "For me to come close to who I am, I had to learn to read Arabic," she explained. "Arabic is important to my parents' lives. It's important to who I am."
Ahmed began the arduous task of learning to read Arabic by studying the Koran. "I forced myself to read it and understand it," she said. "I am Muslim; I had to learn to read the text."
Now literate in Arabic, Ahmed has found inspiration for her art in the shapes of the words of the Koran. "The structure of the text itself is very creative. The curves of the letters show motion and expression. I love that about the Koran and I incorporate that creativity into my interpretations," she explained.
"I hope that [my work] reveals something that a lot of people haven't seen before," said Ahmed, "and that people can view it as an expression of religion and an expression of culture."
Heba Amin
Heba Amin is fed up with the way the Western media portrays the Middle East. In the West, argued Amin, what we know of the Arab world comes strictly through a political lens. It's easy to demonize a people, she asserted, if all you know of them is one side.
To prove her point, she asks, "What music do the people of the Middle East listen to? What are their daily traditions? What are the frustrations of their daily life? I am trying to show that there are more similarities among people than there are differences."
While Amin's paintings aim to humanize Arabs, they also make a bold statement. "I am frustrated with this push to westernize a region that is not ready for it. There are consequences to this push, and they are mostly negative," she said.
Amin points to her birth country, Egypt, as an example. The Bedouins, a nomadic tribe that has long called portions of Egpyt's desert home, are increasingly finding the space they once roamed now hosts a tourist industry with ritzy resorts. Consequently, the Bedouins have been forced to settle without the resources they need.
"I am interesting in using the Bedouins as a commentary on how urbanization is forcing the disappearance of a culture, how urbanization is taking over a people," she explained.
"I think the time is right, for this work to be seen," she added. "People are interested in a personal perspective of the Middle East right now. They are looking for something more refreshing. They are eager to learn more about a region of the world that they know nothing about but hear about every day and are involved in."
"Haneen: Between Home and Homeland"
Feb. 12 -March 17
Mira Gallery, Instituto deCultura y Education
4137 Bloomington Ave. S., Mpls.
Gallery hours: Noon to 4 p.m. Monday through Saturday.
Admission is free
Opening reception, Feb. 12, 6-9 p.m. Includes Arab music and dance and a poetry reading. FFI: 612-709-1734
