The Third Line, the Dubai-based gallery known for representing contemporary Middle Eastern artists locally, regionally, and internationally, recently hosted three solo exhibitions including one by Bady Dalloul.
The French-Syrian multimedia artist used the project space for his latest work titled “A Country without a Door or Window”, comprising of 200 small drawings that fit inside pocket matchboxes. These drawings are characterised by vibrant colours and a seemingly childlike style. However, they present a sharp contrast with their content, which tells stories of the harsh reality of the Syrian war that started in 2011.
Throughout his work, Dalloul utilises images from the media to create a deeply personal and emotional connection to the conflict, especially given his family’s background.
Below, we speak to the artist about his latest exhibition:
Can you tell us about “A Country without a Door or Window” at The Third Line?
Since 2016 I started drawing ‘A country without a door or a window’. The work you are seeing at The Third Line today is the third part of a new ensemble of two hundred miniature drawings that I placed inside pocket matchboxes. Colourful pictures contrast with the harshness of most of the scenes that are depicted, in these drawings I am talking here about the civil war that broke out in Syria in 2011. But not only we can see images of the ongoing collapse of Lebanon, and also what is going on in Iraq and Palestine.
Reduction of size is above all a way to domesticate pain and not allow myself to be submerged by historical events, which most often surpass me. I started this work in France, continued it in Jordan, and now in Japan, where I live. Its topic also deals with the geographical distance that separates me from Syria, and the Near East wherever I am, and how we all see this conflict with distance, unfortunately.
What was your earliest memory of a pocket matchbox and when was it that you realised it would make a great canvas for the messages you were trying to portray?
My whole practice, I would say, really started as a game with my little brother that we played in Damascus during the long summers we spent there visiting family. In this game, we imagined that we were kings of fictional countries. He had Jadland and I had Badland. We started drawing inside agendas belonging to my grandfather.
The more we went on writing, drawing and making collages and cutting newspapers and putting it in our diaries, the more these countries of ours were becoming real to us. I didn’t know what to do with this obsession of drawing and creating a parallel history for years, but I continued to do it, even when my little brother was no longer interested in this game at all.
Why did you decide to arrange the sequence of events subjectively?
This juxtaposition of events in each group gives a narration in a discontinuous line of matchboxes. Drawings inside each group are indivisible but the position of each group can be changed within and can be exhibited partly or as an ensemble. Hence, I am not giving a point of view on a particular event: narration is sometimes linked to aesthetic composition between drawings, sometimes it is the subject that is the link, I wanted to convey a narration that would be delivered only if you look carefully, the same way you build your own perception and judgment on things in life. Building a perception not to blame anyone but to understand, by yourself.
Despite the drawings’ small size, they offer a potent message. What is that message?
We have been overwhelmed by the images coming out of Syria. At first, these tiny pictures were inspired by my boyhood interest in collecting stamps, and depicted normal, quotidian scenes. But as the violence grew in Syria, so too it grew in these pictures. It felt like there was no limit to the horrors we were witnessing, they were everywhere, and there was nowhere to escape. By drawing them like this, it was a way of taking control of them, digest them and arranging them in a way that forces others to see, digest and understand them too.
In what creative ways does your heritage play a part in your art?
I come from a place where everybody is entitled to give his opinion, even when one isn’t habilitated to do so. It is not up to me to deem it healthy or not, nonetheless if you appreciate reading history and the Middle East has a long-recorded history: you tend to understand history as in fact a point of view. Herodotus the father of history, one of the oldest historians as such is also known as the father of lies.
In this context, I can say that my background is a construction, made of hard facts, random occurrences, misinformation, and point of views. This is why I like working with existent forms: I do not aim to change them, I work on them. I’m not remaking existing history or remaking it into a different reality, I’m just making it more visible. Have a look.
Can you tell us about the role art plays in the Middle East?
I don’t think I am entitled to say what art should be or not anywhere, and my opinion involves only myself, I just hope that you who is reading me now, will look carefully, and keep building your own perception and judgment on things in life. Building your perception not to blame anyone but to understand, by yourself.
From GQ Middle East website