The vibrant, thought-provoking Middle Eastern Neo-Pop Art work with cutting social commentary on consumer culture and a dash of ironic kitsch.
“What is the nature of art?” I have to ask this question. Is the nature of art that it is a painting or sculpture, or is there something beyond that?”
Mohamed Melehi (1936-2020) is an internationally celebrated artist, designer, and teacher. His work combines modernist abstraction, Afro-Berber motifs, and his own distinctive use of saturated colour and wave-like forms. Born in the Moroccan coastal town of Asilah, he studied in Morocco and then in Spain, Italy, France, and the USA. In 1964 he returned to Morocco and with fellow artists Farid Belkahia and Mohammed Chebaa founded the Casablanca School, where students were encouraged to engage with both Bauhaus-influenced modernism and the Moroccan visual culture around them. [i]
A Lost Family (1960) pictures five figures painted larger than life against a vibrant geometric background. In the centre is a seated woman whose body stretches the length of the canvas, her head at the top and her feet at the bottom. Just below and in front of her is a young boy who stands with his hands behind his back, his feet small and tucked tightly together. To her right is another boy who stands taller, his elongated figure stretching higher towards her with his palm outstretched. To her left is the seated figure of an older woman carrying a young child, both of their faces appearing dark and ghostly.
A rectangular block of carved jade sits atop a sleek, white marble plinth. Rich and vibrant tones characterise its colouring, in a spectrum of shades that range from deep green and beige to dark brown, swirling within the stone like the currents of a river. Tracing its shape, to the left are sharp angular edges curving to the other side to form an undulating wave. A small circle pierces through its centre, drawing focus to the surrounding negative space.
This untitled work painted by Helen Khal (1923-2009) in 1969, features vast layered, faintly textured blocks of green. Details of this moderately sized canvas reveal steady, measured brushstrokes, built up to create hazy fields of colour. Dark green forms the breadth of this composition, fading into a rounded rectangle below, in a lighter, brighter green, glowing like painterly facets of an emerald.
Two tall, veiled, women stand together, hauntingly depicted, as one clutches onto a long candle and the other holds her arm, in a balancing act. To the left, the woman in a striped lavender gown holds a basket in one arm and a child above her shoulder, who appears to be sleeping, resting their arms and head on hers. To her right, the woman in green stares ahead, her eyes eerily vacant as she clutches a long candle between the palms of her hands. Below them, a young wide-eyed girl, with short black hair, in a bright orange dotted gown looks straight ahead.
In this untitled work from 1996, Naziha Selim (1927-2008) paints a vibrant scene that features four Iraqi women in an intimate gathering. Seated around a table, they are veiled, dressed in bright colourful clothes, and each draped in a dark abaya (a loose-fitting full-length robe), which suggests that they may not be in a private space. The protagonist of this painting is a reclining figure nursing her baby, her breast exposed. Her veil shields her from the view of the women who sit behind her, huddled closely.
A towering wire structure stands larger than life, perched on what appear to be wobbly, misshapen legs. Delicately formed of thin black metal wire, a figure emerges, woven within a mesh-like framework. Seen at a distance, sharp, continuous lines and curving shapes characterise its composition. It appears to be a gestural ink drawing on a sheet of paper, its true dimensions only revealed in motion.
“A free bird leaps on the back of the wind and floats downstream till the current ends… The caged bird sings with a fearful trill of things unknown but longed for still and his tune is heard on the distant hill for the caged bird sings of freedom.” Maya Angelou (1983) [1]