ARTIST SPOTLIGHT - "Artistically Planting Hope"
- CARAVAN Arts
- 2 days ago
- 13 min read
An interview with acclaimed Syrian artist Boutros Al Maari.
CARAVAN's President, Paul G. Chandler, had the privilege of recently interviewing Boutros Al Maari, the acclaimed Syrian artist, caricaturist and writer, whose art promotes peace and harmony, and reminds viewers of what our world can be when we embody love for each other.
" Salvation is through love, through beauty, through art; and this is what we lack, and this is what we must work on so that we rise once again."
-Boutros Al Maari, artist
Boutros Al Maari is an acclaimed Syrian artist, caricaturist, writer and book illustrator. Born in Damascus, Syria in 1968 into a Christian family, he currently lives and works in Hamburg, Germany. Al Maari graduated with a printmaking degree from the Faculty of Fine Arts at the University of Damascus in 1991, where he taught for several years, and obtained his Ph.D. in social anthropology from the École des Hautes études en Sciences Sociales (EHESS) in Paris in 2006. From 2008 to 2012 he worked as a professor at the Faculty of Fine Arts at Damascus University. The sights and sounds of the souks and tea houses of Damascus were his early inspiration. With a touch of romance and fantasy, his work portrays a Damascus that he knows and wishes to remember, before everything drastically changed with the war in 2011, forcing him and his family to live abroad. Al Maari's painting style is a unique blend of Neo-Expressionism with elements of Cubism, characterized by his distinctive use of monochromatic figures and elongated, caricatured faces. His work is a fascinating dialogue between his Syrian roots and his experiences in Europe, reflecting a profound sense of nostalgia for his homeland and a commentary on social and political issues.
For more information:
-Instagram:@boutros.almaari
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As some context, can you share a little about your background and the formative influences that have shaped your life as an artist?
Boutros: .I was born in Bab Touma, a neighborhood in Damascus. I was the only child in my family born in Damascus, while my siblings and parents were born in Saidnaya, a town 28 kilometers to the north. I grew up in a middle-class family, and was to some extent interested in reading. I remember when I was young, they used to buy me a children’s magazine called Osama. I didn't know how to read yet, but I would look at the pictures, and often my sisters would read to me.
Bab Touma is a Christian quarter in the Old City of Damascus, but on its edges, there is a mix of different religions and sects. A few meters from our house in Bab Touma, there was a school belonging to the Armenian Catholic Archbishopric, and I was enrolled there. It is well known that Armenians care deeply about arts and culture and encourage talent. They are an artistic people, skilled in handicrafts. There was an artistic atmosphere around me during these years. My brother had beautiful handwriting and both he and my sister were skilled at drawing. And in the house in which we lived, there was a young man who used to bring photographic pictures and color them, and I used to watch him while I was young.
At school there were also drawing classes, but one year they brought a teacher to focus on those who had natural artistic gifts, who opened a class after school hours, that I attended. It was beautiful work in which I discovered how to use pastels.
After I obtained a baccalaureate certificate, I was accepted to the Faculty of Fine Arts at the University of Damascus, and studied engraving and printmaking. I also worked as an assistant lecturer in the faculty during this time. And since I was first in my class, I received a scholarship to study in France at the School for Advanced Studies in the Social Sciences where I studied social anthropology. My subject was about how popular art and imagery influenced the development of modern art in Syria.
In 2008, after I obtained my PhD degree, I returned from Paris to Damascus and taught at the Faculty of Fine Arts at the University of Damascus. I loved the interaction and exchange with the students. However, in 2011, demonstrations began to emerge in Damascus and in other provinces. This developed into an overwhelming revolution across the whole of Syria, making the atmosphere throughout the country very tense. A rift began among the students, and likewise among the Syrian people in general, who divided into two hostile camps.
During this period, I began to sense that a very destructive time was on its way. In 2009, I recall painting three large dark paintings in which there was great violence, killing, and oppression. It was a time of great anxiety, as I knew that the entrance of weapons into the populace would destroy everything. I had hoped there would be a peaceful dialogue through which violence could be avoided. However, the situation deteriorated quickly, and I was incapable of stopping it. I felt I was no longer able to continue my life and work in this atmosphere. I was also afraid for my people, as in all wars, the ones who pay the price are the people, not the leaders.
So, I preferred to move to Europe, to Germany, where I had some family members, because I did not want to participate in this destruction or to witness it firsthand. Even if you know from right from wrong, that doesn’t mean you know how to solve the problem. I did not want to see my country head toward destruction, so I chose to leave and preserve its beautiful image in my mind. And so it was.
I was first introduced to your work in Amman, Jordan, when the gallerist referred to you as the “Chagall of the Middle East.” Can you tell us about the symbolism in your work such as the intention behind depicting elongated faces, closed eyes, halos, birds, flowers, ceiling lamps, and flying figures?
Boutros: Some people see the flying persons, who are most often an angel or a pair of lovers, in a figurative sense and they attribute that to Chagall, the Russian French artist. But this view is mistaken, because there is a great difference in thinking, in the method of treatment, in composition, and in colors, as well as in the brushstroke, between me and the great master Chagall.
But the truth is that what connects me with Chagall is the source from which both he and I drew. We have a religious heritage from which we take — I from the Christian heritage, and he from the Jewish religious heritage — as well as from popular stories. Therefore, we can say that at this point we meet.
The persons present in my work and his are ordinary people, such as the traveling seller, the person who goes to the bathhouse or the café, or the people walking in the street, or a young couple. I build stories around them, and thus create my painting. This also calls for me to paint certain elements that complete the painting, such as a lantern, a fountain, or an umbrella if there is rain, or if the scene is romantic, something indicating love, and also buildings that indicate the city of Damascus, and so on. Additionally, I use individual elements like birds and flowers abundantly, evocative of popular artistic works.
I am also incorporating Syria’s Islamic heritage, which is concerned with ornamentation and filling empty space; because they feel the devil could fill the emptiness, they do not leave him any room. The closed eyes can demonstrate a state of passion sometimes, or a state of serenity and peace, or being in a dreamlike state. And sometimes, according to the subject of the painting, it calls for the person to open his eyes in order to see something or to present to us a different expression.
At times your artwork is in black and white, sometimes with a little color introduced, and at other times it is full of vibrant colors. Can you comment on the use or non-use of color in your creative process?
Boutros: My interest in black and white came because I could not work in the manner of engravers — etching, dry point, or any technique among the traditional engraving techniques — so drawing in black and white was the alternative that I used. This was at the beginning, and it continued for a while. Then colors began to come little by little during my time in Paris, where I studied, and was seeing the colors, the elegance, and the bright things that were around me. So, the invasion of colors began, and there came into my work a marriage between black and white and colors, for my style to take on this character.
You often paint ordinary people, such as street venders, with halos. Could you share what you trying to communicate?
Boutros: My objective is to get close to common people. Art is not for the elite; this is how I see it. Consequently, if you want the common people to come to your exhibitions or experience your paintings, you must address them with things or with vocabulary they are familiar with, that communicates to them, all the while preserving artistic standards.
The halos come from Byzantine iconography and from Christianity in general, and also from the drawings or miniatures of the Middle Ages, which were used for ordinary people and not just for saints.
So, this is what I am doing: to create in such a way that all people can experience art, and feel comfortable attending my exhibitions, and able to understand what they see. I attempt to do this without diminishing the technical and aesthetic artistic levels. Instead, I attempt to raise the artistic bar, and in so doing elevate the artistic taste of those seeing my work. It is important to maintain a high artistic standard. I have taken this challenge upon myself to create in such a way that connects with both those not familiar with art and those that are.
"My objective is to get close to common people. Art is not for the elite; this is how I see it."
-Boutros Al Maari
You have done numerous portrayals of Christ’s Passion – the Last Supper, the Crucifixion, Peter’s denial, etc. What leads you to continue to explore these scenes?
Boutros: In reality, these are subjects that many artists have worked on, just like the subject of nature, or still life, or women, and historical subjects; but they are distinguished from other subjects by the fact that they carry a story in their origins and are closer to the conscience of the general public.
In these paintings, the central figure is Jesus Christ. We find in him this man — or Lord, as some believe — a peaceful and kind person who came with a message for all humanity, yet he was met with betrayal by one of his disciples and denial by another disciple. This is a story that carries profound meaning. To be exposed to disappointment, betrayal, and denial does not mean that one must become violent. Christ embraced the utmost vulnerability and the utmost forgiveness, and this is the essence of humanity: to forgive the world. Without forgiveness, without reconciliation, the world cannot remain upright; it turns into a forest of ravenous wolves.
That is why my focus is on two figures: Judas Iscariot and Peter. Peter is remorseful, while Judas carries a bag of coins in his hand. In one of the last paintings I completed, I painted a noose, because in the narrative it says that Judas hanged himself out of remorse.
Speaking of violence, I return to the fact that Christ did not use violence. If every person were to answer violence with violence, or repay others exactly as they had acted toward them — an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth — then what virtue would remain? This too is a profound message, and through art we try to present it to people. We are in need of this noble message, regardless of whether it comes from Christ or from someone else.
Influences of both Damascus folklore and Western culture can be seen in your creative work. Can you tell us a little about this? And more specifically, I would love to also know what is behind your painting that reimagines Vincent van Gogh’s famous café night scene?
Boutros: Studying folk art in Damascus and in the Middle East region, acquainted me with this field. I was also shaped by my personal knowledge of Damascus and its artistic milieu, and the drawings that decorate the old heritage books such as “One Thousand and One Nights,” and the other texts that narrate folk tales about knights and poets, etc.
Then, when living in Paris, I was introduced to Western civilization and its great art schools through museums and exhibitions. While I had seen all this in books, I now experienced it firsthand. I also learned from ordinary life in Paris - the daily life - from seeing the posters in the metro, or the cinema, and other places, like in the windows of the big shops. All of this was very visually rich for me. Hence, the marriage happened in my art between folk and modern Western art, which resulted in my artistic style.
As for the Vincent van Gogh painting that you mentioned, it is a type of playful dialogue with the great master. I placed an Arab corn seller in front of the famous cafe in the painting. And like this, we can say it is a satirical experience or an attempt to merge the East with the West and come out with a result that is playful and amusing. And of course, many artists resort to re-drawing or depicting other paintings of other artists; even van Gogh himself had copied several paintings of well-known artists. While these were, in the beginning, copies, what I have done is merge the original painting of van Gogh with the city of Damascus.
You have used the pre-Islamic figures of Antar and Abla to explore the theme of love in a good bit a good bit. Can you share with us a little about your views of how love is essential for survival in an often-violent world?
Boutros: There are many love stories and legendary couples. But the story of Antar and Abla remains among the most popular among Arabs, across all of society – from a person who is illiterate to the educated. The story is known to all in several versions, whether the popular (folk) version or the historical version. Therefore, I chose this subject in order to present love through it, so that I may be closer to the largest segment of people.
We are in need of love and in need of getting closer to each other. We live now in a world prevailed by wars and hatred, especially in the Middle East region, where Syria, my country, has been living amidst violence for a decade and a half. If we do not love each other, then it is impossible to get close, and work together in order to raise up the country and its people. All those who experienced these tragedies are in need of love, in need of living again in that peace that they lost since the beginning of civil war in 2011. Therefore, I emphasized this subject because salvation is through love, through beauty, through art; and this is what we lack, and this is what we must work on so that we rise once again.
Those who love are able to give. Those who love, you are able to speak with. Those who love, do not carry weapons and do not resort to violence.
How does the process of creating art connect you to something deeper within or beyond yourself? How would you say that your own spiritual journey plays a role in your creative process?
Boutros: Just as with time and experience you become a possessor of your artistic tools, at the same time you must possess a pure soul and realize that any creative process, if it does not come from within you, will not be authentic.
I paint what I want to paint, meaning that I paint what occupies my thinking and soul, and what I like to paint… just like that, in all simplicity. Therefore, in every period, I move between subjects and change the way I treat them. But what unites them all is the overarching spirit in which I create.
There are layers of depth in your art which enable you, as a visual storyteller, to share vitality and hope with others, despite the difficult challenges you have experienced by being displaced from your homeland. It is clear that you are driven to want to bring hope to people.
Boutros: There is no doubt that the events unfolding around us affect us and influence our psychological state. As a result, each period can impose upon us a certain style of painting, a particular palette of colors, or specific themes. For someone who has lived through more than a decade and a half of war, destruction, and violence, it is inevitable that these events will appear in his work.
At the same time, however, one cannot simply present these events and all this darkness to the world. Beyond our need to express ourselves, we must also have the intention — or rather the responsibility — to plant hope in people’s hearts. Art can give life, just as words can, and it can also destroy, but that is not its role. That is the role of weapons and politicians — or rather, that is what they offer us.
What we can offer is the emotional counterbalance in this world. The artist, the writer, balances the ugliness of the world through creativity, through ideas, through planting hope in people’s souls. That is why, alongside works that depict war and violence, we always strive to create joyful subjects with vibrant colors. This gives hope: war is ugly and dark, but we will work to bury that ugliness, to plant flowers, and to sow hope.
Can you share with us what you are working on artistically at this time?
Boutros: At the moment, I am not working on a specific subject or a particular project. Rather, I simply paint, moving from one theme to another, as is my habit.
But the current war in the Gulf occupies my thoughts. I had previously worked on the theme of war at different intervals, and I now have a collection that may perhaps be ready for an exhibition someday. But that is something we will leave to time and circumstance.
