Freedom to Create prize reveals underground artists
22 Nov 2009
The events of the current decade have concentrated the minds of writers, directors and artists wonderfully. There have been sundry works of art about the West’s engagement with Islam. Why, Osama Bin Laden has even had a hilarious cameo on the cartoon series Family Guy. Very little attention has been paid to work created by Muslims. Last year, however, an arts prize was set up by Richard Chandler, a billionaire New Zealand-born philanthropist based in Singapore, to shine a light into those parts of the world where creative freedom is not a given. The Freedom to Create prize is open to artists in all fields and is awarded to “an individual or group that uses its creative work to promote social justice, build the foundations for an open society and inspire the human spirit”.
There are more than 1,000 entrants from Africa, Asia, Latin America, eastern Europe and the Middle East. The winner of the main prize (there is also a youth prize and a prize for imprisoned artists) will be announced on Wednesday. The prize is worth $50,000, but they give half to an organisation that will advance the cause their work highlights. This year’s judges include the conductor Daniel Barenboim, Geoffrey Robertson QC, and last year’s inaugural winner, the Zimbabwean dramatist Cont Mhlanga. In a way, it doesn’t matter who wins. The point is publicity, in particular for artists working in the Islamic trouble spots. Not that all entrants are struggling to express themselves. In 2006, a Kuwaiti doctor, Naif Al-Mutawa, launched a comic called The 99, featuring 99 superheroes, each based on a virtue expounded in the Koran. “Some of the more conservative places in the world weren’t so happy to let The 99 in,” he says. He is now negotiating to open a 99 theme park in Saudi Arabia, and is franchising a global cartoon show animated in Hollywood. “I told the writers, it’s only when Jewish kids watch it and think the characters are Jewish, and Muslims think they’re Muslims, that I’ll consider myself successful.”
It’s all a far cry from Afghanistan, whose nominees include an animation entitled Suicide Bomber, and a bloody sculptural commentary on human rights called Attack on Afghanistan. Sheenkai Alam Stanikzai, meanwhile, has created an installation piece about the traditional suicide method of abused Afghan women: hurling themselves into wells. The work includes 40 photographs of girls, alongside the dates of their suicide. The practice has its roots in pre-Islamic times, explains the artist: “I recognised the similarity between these ancient events and contemporary world events, so I decided to show my feelings about what is happening: more than 40 women are dying every day.”
Stanikzai is by no means the only woman nominated. From Pakistan, Sheema Kermani entered a series of dance and theatre pieces about the veil, polygamy, sexual abuse and honour killings. For many years, dancing by women was banned in Pakistan, and Kermani was obliged to sign an affidavit every time she performed. “For long periods, it has been almost like a life underground,” she says. “I feel religion should be a private matter. Most of my work exposes the cruelty and hypocrisy of fundamentalists and how they use religion to exploit the people, especially women.”
From Palestine, the film-maker Larissa Sansour submitted A Space Exodus, a powerfully witty film about a female astronaut planting a Palestinian flag on the moon. Her aim, she says, is “to flip the power balance and put the habitual analyser — the westerner — in the role of the analysed”. A non-believer of Christian descent, she explains that her freedom to create has been severely impeded by the Israeli authorities: “I have had warning shots fired over my head, been denied access to locations, threatened by soldiers, interrogated, intimidated, had several guns pointed at my forehead. Speaking your mind as a Palestinian means trouble.” It’s not just in Israel: a New York gallery where she is planning her first show has already asked her to retitle and/or modify certain pieces.
Also from Palestine comes DARG TeaM, a group of Gaza Strip rappers whose name stands for Da Arabian Revolutionary Guys. They’ve not yet performed outside Gaza City, where Hamas takes a dim view of western influences. “But we find our way through by adding our Arabic touch to it,” says their manager, Fadi Srour, “and explaining that we are talking on behalf of the ones who can’t speak loud enough while living under injustice. Our lyrics and attitude show Islam is a peaceful religion and how we care about fighting non-violently for our cause.”
The Palestine-Israel conflict has its most balanced coverage in a compilation of photographs and interviews with combatants on both sides by the Yemen-based Tunisian artist Karim Ben Khelifa. “The viewer has to detach himself from stereotypes,” he says. “For the first time, they will be able to walk between enemy lines, look the fighters in the eye and hear each individual talking.”
While the Freedom to Create prize aims to highlight the existence of this work, it’s harder actually to see much of it, or for artists to take their work abroad. That is why the longer-term work done by one of the nominees may have even more heft. The Kurdish Sufi artist Adalet R Garmiany has created an installation piece about the chemical warfare waged on his compatriots by the Saddam regime. But he is also the founder of a group called ArtRole, which in 2007 brought four Iraqi artists to the UK. More exchanges have followed since. The aim, he explains, is “to overcome fear, building a bridge through direct debate, and dialogue beyond the political. Art and artists don’t have barriers: they can move to any place”.
