A New Generation of Afghan Artists The Kabul Art Project
Afghanistan’s art scene has seen a revival since the fall of the Taliban in 2001. Today, many young artists are reflecting on what has happened in Afghanistan during the past decades and what challenges the country faces today. But they still contend with widespread mistrust of artistic expression, especially when practiced by women.
“Public exhibitions of critical artworks are mostly restricted to foreign institutions such as the Institut Français or the Goethe Institut,” says Christina Hallmann, an illustrator and graphic designer from Cologne, Germany. Two years ago, she started the Kabul Art Project to support 11 artists from Kabul. It’s an Internet platform that allows them to connect with media, art collectors, galleries and art lovers. The group also holds exhibitions, most recently in Penticton, Canada in autumn 2015. “It was the biggest exhibition of contemporary Afghan art that has ever been on display outside Afghanistan,” Hallmann says.
Meanwhile, 26 artists have joined the Kabul Art Project. Three of them, a man and two women, tell about their passions and concerns.
Concept, research and interviews by Natalia Gurova, Intern in the Communication and Media Relations Section of the OSCE Secretariat.
Hamed Hassanzada
Born in Kabul, 1987
I spent my early life in the midst of civil war, explosions and rocket fire; every day there was chaos and riots. I started to paint when I was seven or eight. When I was ten, my family had to emigrate. Later, I returned to Kabul, hoping that global society had brought peace to Afghanistan. But unfortunately, the terror of war impacted me even more. It had broken into the city and the streets and alleys had been changed into battle fields. Still, I supported the young art community, with art courses, exhibitions and workshops. I had several close calls, and my art got bitter and black.
I don’t believe in abstract art now. For me, form is important; it’s my connection to the world. I care about humanity, about the people in Afghanistan, and they are what I paint. I think Afghan people are caught between tradition and modernity, they are fighting within themselves. They want to become free, but right now they cannot. I’m searching for ways to show these struggles in my art. In one piece, I have four persons behind masks; the masks are maybe a tradition and modernism is behind, two personalities in one person.
For Afghanistan, it’s important to be a nation, but we are not a nation right now. We have different groups, Tajik, Pashtun, Uzbek, Hazara, and they do not accept one another. Art doesn’t care about ethnicity, it’s about deep emotions and can be a powerful bridge for bringing people together. I have many friends from different ethnic groups. We do artwork together, discuss things, organize cafes and galleries. Friendship is more important than politics.
Afghanistan’s people are very poor. The country is rich in talent and rich in mineral resources – gas, oil and precious stones. But the people cannot benefit, they are constantly abused by the kings of war. They are working so hard, it’s no wonder they don’t have time or money for art. Music is more important for them: they invite folk musicians to their weddings and parties to have a good time. But with paintings and sculptures, they are scared. They go to the mosques, and the religious leaders tell them that making portraits and sculptures is not halal. Most of them follow these prohibitions. But still there are some who take an interest and visit exhibitions and galleries.
Something new is starting in Afghanistan, and I hope that soon we will see the change. People like me, artists, poets, actors, cinema directors, are working hard, without support from the government or the people, doing something we believe in. I’m teaching at the contemporary art center in Kabul. I have students who are motivated, who want to learn – about art history, experimental painting, drawing and sculpture. They care about art. They are young, we need to have patience.
Malina Suliman
Born in Kandahar, 1990
Most of my art is politically orientated. I try to tell people to wake up and fight for their rights. In Kandahar and Kabul, I did graffiti, painted or made sculptures about human rights, women’s rights, state policy or corruption. Now I am studying in the Netherlands, and I work a lot with performances. My last performance, in a museum, was about Afghanistan’s agreements with Russia and Britain about the country’s borders, the Durand Line, how borders were exploited to divide the country. Some of my work is very conceptual. “What is identity, what does it really mean? What does one country think about another?” – these are the questions I ask.
Being an artist is a challenge today, especially in Afghanistan. If you are a woman this challenge is doubled. Afghans think a woman should be in the home. Even for men it is difficult to be accepted by their families as artists.
I’m a practicing Muslim, but I try to see how I can reconcile my art with religion. Sculptures and portraits are not allowed. But there are exceptions: the government uses photos for passports. When I make a sculpture dedicated to human rights, I don’t perceive it as an idol. It’s a way to explain to people a situation they would like to ignore. Sometimes visual things can reach an audience quicker than long discussions. Of course, if I make a sculpture of a naked woman, it will be almost impossible to exhibit. But if it only resembles a woman, that is a way to be not going directly against religion.
Living in the Netherlands, I see Afghanistan from another perspective. I would love to go back and build up an artistic exchange between the two countries. I would love to motivate Afghan women to form communities for mutual support, to see not only my future but Afghanistan’s future bright.
Afghans need to be aware of what is happening in other countries, not only politically but in normal life. I did a project about people’s wishes, comparing Afghans’ and Europeans’ dreams. Afghans wished for freedom, peace and security. Europeans dreamt about other things, like meeting their children more often to eat or spend time together. In Afghanistan, people do that in everyday life.
Shamsia Hassani
Born in Teheran, Iran, with Afghan nationality, 1988
I studied classical art at Kabul University, but wanted to take a more modern approach and create art that sends a message. I took part in a graffiti workshop by the British artist, Chu, organized by Combat Communications, and really started to think in that way. Now I work mainly as a graffitist and street artist. I still teach at the university, but in my art I am free. I’m travelling around the world with my work – I just finished a mural on a huge wall in Los Angeles.
Street art is for everybody and everyone can enjoy it. I like to paint on broken-down walls. They carry the mark of war and destruction and become part of my work. People have started to forget about the war, but I want to recall it, paint it on the walls, take the bad memories and make a colourful city.
The main character in my graffiti is a woman. She does all sorts of things, like a character in a movie. She is coming to change things in a positive way. I want to remind people that women can play different roles and that they can be part of society.
My family supports me, but they worry all the time. For a woman, being on the street is difficult. Thirty minutes is OK, but I cannot paint good quality art in half an hour, I need at least three or four. Sometimes my friends come with me, but of course they are not able to stay the whole time. So usually I work alone. I’m always unsure about what might happen to me. Many people don’t like art; they think it is not allowed in Islam. My intuition helps me. If I feel there is some kind of danger, I leave the street, even if my piece is unfinished.
To me, Afghanistan seems like a person who was dead during the war and after the war was reborn. It’s like a baby now that needs time to grow up. There are plenty of problems inherited from the war: bombings, gender inequality, street harassment, violence against women. Artists can help, indirectly. They can change people’s minds, and people can change society. It is a long and difficult process.