BIN MATAR HOUSE
Darwish – An Altar of Poetry
25 May 2013
Each of us has his/her own style and personal philosophy towards things: I chose for myself the “philosophy of colours,” conflicting discordant colours, a simple and spontaneous philosophy. If we look deeper inside ourselves, we’ll find that we live the noise and discordant din, the screaming chaos of the senses exactly as the colour strokes of the painter fall on the body of the silent panel, in a state of rebellion and mutiny reflected not in angry sounds but in free colours.
I don’t belong to a particular school of art and I don’t follow a familiar style; my art is the expression of our sentiments and sensations tossed through random colours, but behind this randomness, there is a harmonious symphony in a blend of colours. I make the random colours my background tune and my letters the maestro, playing the meaning of the picture and its final features.
From the great store of memory, my recollections of my homeland, Iraq and its ancient scripts and masterpieces, there persist in my mind those ancient inscriptions. Overwhelmed by a deep sense of longing and nostalgia, I have tried in my own simple and spontaneous way to recreate them. And when longing is mixed with memories, it creates loud raucous rhythms, reflections of my emotional reactions, my poignant longings for my childhood.
I have never sought to dazzle the sights by the fineness and accuracy of depicted images but I have always aimed at provoking the memory through those scripts, and behind my scattered letters is a sentence summed up by a letter. The observer has to contemplate and rearrange the letters to in order to find out the sentence of Longing.
For this exhibition, I have chosen a hero of the epic of Homeland and Love, Darwish.
When you choose what to present to others, you’ll definitely choose what becomes them. I choose Darwish’s poems as they express depths of feelings and touching states of mind that reflects that of my audience.
As you read Darwish, memory takes you straight to your mother’s bosom, your mother’s coffee, your mother’s bread, and where your mother is, there you find your homeland and the deep longing for this homeland, an everlasting longing that knows no end.
Darwish is not a just poem and prose letters. Darwish is a state of deep love, which happened in a certain place at a certain time, and which we miss in our times, when love comes as fast as light and ends faster, because I find that feelings in these times lack depth and truth. This poet fascinates me by his poetic philosophy of Love and the transparency of his letters.
I haven’t chosen Darwish in vain nor just to attract attention but out of genuine faith in a poet who combines in his poetry the most beautiful trinity: Homeland … Love ….and Mother.