Adonis, born Ali Ahmad Said听Esber听in al-Qassabin听(Syria) in 1930, is a poet, writer and visual artist. Adonis听was exiled to Beirut in 1956 and moved to Paris in 1985, where he is听still based. In addition to his poetry, for which he was awarded the Goethe Prize in 2011听amongst others, Adonis has written about听literature and art听and continues to be a critical voice in magazines and newspapers on political and social affairs. Since the 1990s, Adonis has been creating visual works of art with found materials which he has exhibited worldwide.听In conversation with听Immediations听editors Ambra听D鈥橝ntone听and Erica Payet, Adonis discusses the different dimensions of his visual practice.
Adonis, you have an impressive听reputation as a poet, more so than as a visual artist. In previous interviews, any mention of your听visual听works is always听attached to larger听discussions听about your听poetry.听Nevertheless, when reading your poetry and looking at your works we can see immediately听 that you听try to break the ideological boundaries between the two, so that artist and poet are no longer听distinct identities.听In听keeping our focus听on your visual works in our discussion today, we wish to bring out听this aspect of your work and to have a larger understanding of your artistic practice. 听Let us start听by directly addressing the objects.听
I have to say from the beginning that I don鈥檛 have a background in painting, properly speaking, or in sculpture. I don鈥檛 come from that tradition. It is true that I have met many artists and sculptors, and that I have written extensively about them,听especially but not exclusively Arab artists. But I come at it from a different angle, from the angle of poetic vision. I believe that to be a poet means to experience the world wholly, as a totality. Everything is poetry. Even the peasant is a poet: he works in his听garden,听he works in the fields and听changes听them. There is change and there is reconstruction鈥攚ithin this cycle, everything is poetry. Everything, even love鈥ll of it. I wanted听to widen the frontiers and the space of the written poem. For that reason, I have tried to create poems with ink, lines and stains鈥ust like this. They are extensions of my poetry and they themselves are poems, written in a different manner. Every poem, every work has its own personality, its way of being.
When did you start making them?
I started a little over twenty years ago, by accident. I said to myself, you know quite a few painters and sculptors and you鈥檝e written about them鈥攕ometimes one gets fed up of writing and reading鈥攕o I told myself why not try making something, giving your hands听away听to the ink and finally liberating them? And I did try. I made visual works for around a year, but when I looked at them, I did not like them, and I destroyed them. Then I started again, but this time it seems I did something different. One day my friend Michel Camus, the French poet, came to my studio and saw what I had done, these little things, and asked me who the artist was. I told him 鈥淚t鈥檚 a friend of mine鈥 (he laughs), I did not have the guts to tell him it was me! He said that he鈥檇 love to meet that friend, so I told him that I would arrange a meeting for the following week, in my studio. Michel showed up a week later; we sat down and chatted about various things for a while. About twenty minutes later, he finally asked: 鈥淪o, where is your friend?鈥澨齇nly then did I听muster the courage to tell him that I was the artist! He was very happy, he said he loved the works and suggested I exhibit them. Here, that鈥檚 how I gained some confidence in my practice and decided to carry on with it. Ever since that, many people have liked what I do and I have held some big exhibitions, for me they are immense! I have a big show planned in Hangzhou, in China, opening November 1st; I have already exhibited in China three times, but I have also shown the works in Paris and London鈥o you see, I am in demand! That鈥檚 how I carry on with it.
What type of subjects听do you wish to represent?
Just like in my poetry, I want to represent simultaneously the small, mundane things of everyday life, as well as the farthest, most obscure metaphysical truths, the totality of the cosmos. These are my subjects, because听I am not an ideological man听and I feel like I have been thrown into听this universe.听I don鈥檛 concern myself with听hard-core politics, with regimes听and ideology,听my works are听not about听that.听I question听beauty, love, the meaning of life,听迟丑别听future,听迟丑别听poverty that听is so widespread in the world.听Why is there poverty, in a world so rich and varied?
You prefer to call your works听谤补辩墨尘补听(乇賯賷賲丞), rather than collages. Why?
That鈥檚 it,听谤补辩墨尘补.听We constantly have to create.听I听come from听an听Arab听culture, and in Arabic the word听collage听has a bit of a negative connotation. But there is a word,听raqama听or听raqana,听which designates听both听the ink and the form, the line. So, I thought, I ought to invent听a new word,听谤补辩墨尘补, instead of saying collage.
Can you say a bit more about the importance of materiality and of technique for 迟丑别听谤补辩墨尘补?听Where do you find the materials for the works?
It is just like the words in a poem. There are specific words that signify material things, and a poem is听made up of听different words, from God to a pebble. So, you see,听my material can be everything.听Anything I see, no matter what,听plays a part in the symphony of the work. Everything, without exception. That鈥檚 why I find my materials in the streets. Once somebody saw me, while I was picking up something from a curb to use in my works, and the way he looked at me, I am sure he must have thought 鈥淭his guy is crazy鈥!听(he laughs).听You see, it is like giving meaning to听the insignificant.
You have said before that听you have 鈥渁 problem with painting, with colour鈥, and that you prefer using ink.1听In the Fifties and Sixties, some artists rejected artificial paint,听inspired by prehistory or pursuing a political statement. Do you establish a dialogue with these practices?
This is really personal.听Using ink gives me more freedom than traditional colours, but I know this is relative.听Maybe one day, if I ever have听a big听studio, I could master听colour, create my own. Maybe then I could change. You see, everything is open for me, everything is possible鈥攅ven the impossible.听Ink is easier, I have control over it. I always like being at the core of my materials:听I like to change them, break them, turn them around, make new forms from what is in front of me. Ink allows me to do that easily. Yet, I do hope one day to be able to do that with paint. I did try, in听four听works. A friend of mine,听a听painter, came to me and I told him how much I鈥檇 love听experimenting with paint.2听He encouraged听me,听and I produced four canvases.听He liked them and he plans to exhibit them in Venice! Those canvases are my first works not on paper.听There have been many interesting experiences with paint in the past, there were many artists that used a variety of materials even without paint.听Whether I am in dialogue with them depends鈥攊n the last analysis,听the work of art for me is form, not an idea. The essential听moment is the creation of new form, and the idea will follow. This is not easy.听But this means that the artwork is open to every possibility, to every materiality. I can say this for sure: there are no limitations,听and if there were there would be no art at all. The creation of art听necessarily听exceeds the boundaries听placed on form.
The medium of听谤补辩墨尘补听also seems to allow for a reflection between existence and non-existence. You reflect a lot on the idea of the fragment, for instance. Is this conscious?
You see,听a work of art is important only insofar as it听opens itself up to a myriad of interpretations.听Its wealth resides in that.听When听the meaning of an artwork is hard to pin down, that work is听like an aperture听onto infinity.听That鈥檚 why the Old Masters听are still talking to us. Michelangelo is here right听now;听he听is drinking听Perrier with us!听(he laughs)
In the past, you have talked about the hand as听being a privileged tool that is听rarely听subjected to mental censorship. Can you听elaborate?
When I say this, I have a particular focus on Arab civilisation and the history of the Arab world, but I think it equally applies to other peoples听and听other histories. There is a perennial preoccupation with and interest in 迟丑别听mind and what it does: the creation of language, culture,听imagination听etc.听 But we always forget about the hands. Think about it: hands are a thing of genius!听That鈥檚 because they have no reins. The head is constricted by听rational rules and limitations. While the head thinks, the hands听play,听and they are听the absolute players. Art is 迟丑别听great game, in the positive sense, and God, who has created this world that is so varied and infinitely complex听(but you can believe whatever you want), is the greatest player of all.听So, I think, we need to free our hands.听The artist, especially, plays with the hands:听the coincidences and chance encounters between form and colour cannot happen听but with听the hands, because the head is always听busy听thinking,听being rational!听Hands are not enmeshed in calculations, and that鈥檚 why they matter.听Though,听this听has been neglected by the public and by historians: have you read a single book about the history of hands in England?听In Islam, hands have accomplished wondrous and beautiful things鈥攏ot the head.听There are hand-woven carpets that are worth听thousands of books! That鈥檚 why I believe we have to care for the hands and set their genius free.听Unfortunately, in order to do that I听have had to do things that I did not have control over. Because yes, we want freedom, but that comes at a cost. We cannot be free in a cage, in a prison,听or听a restrictive tradition.听There are conditions.
In your听谤补辩墨尘补听the written language听plays a crucial visual function,听almost like an outpouring of poetry into the visual domain, or a translation of one medium into the other. How do you understand this relationship?
Writing, in the sense of a sentence written on a visual work听and its semantics, for me has nothing to do with form. Writing, just like a background, like a line, plays an integral and essential role in the artwork.听It absolutely cannot be reduced to an illustration, an accompaniment.听Form and writing are not separate, no. They are a whole.听That鈥檚 why I occasionally use a pseudo-script, an imitation of language:听I do not wish to create a writing and a work, but a work made of words, of lines and of ink.听It is not a process of addition, but a totality.
Can you talk a bit about the poetry fragments that you choose for听your works?
In principle, I like to celebrate the great Arab poets of the past.听Poetry is very marginalised in Arab society, although Arabs have created nothing but poetry! It is their single greatest creation.听Despite that, it is not well听known,听and听it is听disregarded.听That is why I like to听celebrate听those poets鈥攅verything I write is meant to pay homage to them听and听to poetry.
Your work speaks in听and of听different听languages:听Arabic, your native language and the language you write in;听French;听the language of poetry; 迟丑别听visual language; 迟丑别听language of political criticism. What is the language you feel听best听conveys what you want to say?
Fortunately, or maybe unfortunately, we only have one mother.听Maybe we have more than one father, though鈥ou never know! (he laughs). But one mother only.听The language of creation is听迟丑别听mother听tongue. My mother tongue is Arabic, so I write and create in Arabic. Additionally, there are听languages of culture, that I like to call the father-tongues. My father-tongue is French.
You were one of the founders of the journal听Shi鈥檙听together with Yusuf al-Khal,听amongst others. The journal was a fierce advocate of translation. What are your opinions on translation? Not just as a literary act, but also as cultural and possibly artistic transmission.
The听issue听around听translation is really complicated, and on top of that we can never reach听a consensus.听Translators and writers are always criticising each other鈥檚 translations! Once a friend of mine who is Russian told me 鈥淚 beg you, Adonis. Do not read听Pushkin in French, because rather than translations those are deformations!鈥澨齀 asked other friends of mine who are French, and听they liked the French translations! My听beloved friend Yves听Bonnefoy, who has听unfortunately passed away, translated Shakespeare. I could never find any English speaker who could criticise his translations! But, instead of admitting that Yves听Bonnefoy听has given Shakespeare a new dimension in French, we always criticise his way of translating and of rendering the original words. Translation is听a space of conflict. Although, despite that, I firmly believe that our future听culture will be founded on translation, or it will not exist at all.听For me, the importance of translation is beyond discussion.听We live in a multi-cultural and -linguistically plural听environment; without translation there will be no future, because the future听is听translation. New generations will have to speak different languages,听because only one language is听absolute poverty鈥攊t cannot work!听At the same time, translating听a philosophy book and a poetry collection are different things, and when we get to the nitty gritty details my opinion is based on my personal experience.听First,听I believe that听in order to听translate poetry听it is necessary to听be deeply aware of what poetry is, it is necessary to know the poet and his language, more than听one鈥檚 own听mother-tongue.听The mother-tongue receives听the other, and so must be intimately acquainted with it. Secondly, we cannot translate literally.听There can never be any word-to-word听correspondence from one language to another, never. Because words in a poem don鈥檛 come from a dictionary, but from their context, from their relationship with听the words before and after, as well as from its role within the imagination.听Translating a poem means translating its imagery, not its words. So, you see, translation is a very complicated matter and we are never in agreement. Thankfully!
And speaking of translation鈥攃an you tell us about your experiences exhibiting your visual work to the public in Paris,听London听and China? Were those experiences different from each other?
The Chinese are more open, more understanding and听disinterested in the art market that dominates Europe. I have sold many works in听China, but only to intellectuals and such people. I think I am better understood in China than in Europe, although there are individuals in Europe鈥攂ut it is a handful of people鈥攚ho understand my works and my poetry.
In terms of being understood and communicating with an audience, is听writing poetry for you different than making visual works?
Firstly, a poet never writes for others. The other always comes after. Look at this audience here: how can a poet write for them? It is ideological, it kills poetry. Everything that is common is anti-poetic. You see, when these people enter a gallery and look at artworks, they all formulate different opinions. Writing for the people is nonsense. And we must also ask: who are the people? The peasant? The workers, or the bourgeois? The soldiers? The regime? The absurdity of these questions demonstrates that these are nonsensical words, they are ideological and political. The poet wants nothing to do with that. Firstly, I write to understand听myself听better. Who am I? Secondly, I write to understand 迟丑别听other听better. And thirdly, to understand the world better. To gain a better understanding of all three, in my writing I establish a meeting point with what we call the reader. The work of art is a space of confluence; there is no single message because there are many messages. The way Michelangelo speaks to us today is necessarily different from how he spoke to his contemporaries. So, we write to make the world more beautiful and more open,听beyond all ideology. Ideology is a veil covering not just the face but covering truth and, ultimately, the world.
Does this apply to your visual works as well?
Yes, absolutely. They are also poems.
Let鈥檚 talk about your life away听from Syria. You once said that听exile听is an internal condition rather than a geographical one.3听Can you elaborate on this?
The way I see it, we are all thrown into exile. It is true that we are born free, but that has nothing to do with real freedom. I was born, I came to this world free, but at the same time I was placed in exile. The human being enters听at birth a state of听exile. This essential and existential exile听is a product of the ambiguities of the world we live in. Why live? Why die?听Why live, if only to die?听If we only live to die, why be born at all? So, you see, the problem goes deeper than ideology and听faith. Religious faith is appealing to people, because they no听longer have to think or to search or to struggle. They follow a ritual, and that calms them down.听But for those who constantly question the human nature and the world, who question the beginning and the future, the finite and the infinite, there is no answer.听For them the world is a constant search,听so听they are always exiled. Even when I am writing,听I can never fully express myself鈥擨 am听exiled within language.听Today I am not who I was yesterday, I have changed. There is no place where听man stays the same throughout his life. The condition of exile has nothing to do with geography; it is听an internal, a human condition.
So, do you feel Syrian, or French? Or neither?
That is not a concern for me. What engages me and preoccupies me constantly is the earth, the soil where I first set foot. I love to see it, but I would never live there. Maybe it is psychological鈥擨 like to see who I was and, by contrast, who I have become. It is very personal. My听country听is these two or three meters where my feet touched the earth for the first time.
Let鈥檚 talk about regionalism: for example, Turkey and Syria are neighbouring countries, and have听a shared Ottoman past. Modern artists had similar concerns and strategies in Turkey and Syria. Yet nowadays they are considered separate regions, ethnicities, cultures. What do you think about this? Are identities so separate, or was there some hybridity and cross-cultural transmission, historically?
This is complicated. Turkey for me represented hope, a hope founded on Mustafa Kemal Atat眉rk and his reforms. A country based on听secularity. It is hard for me to think about Turkey in other terms. Let us give the people who believe in God the freedom to pray as they wish. But the state, the law, the institutions, education鈥verything must be secular. I think this must apply for Syria and the Arab world as well. Without a clear separation of state and religion, there cannot be anything but decadence. And not just decadence鈥攄ecay and the ultimate end! I do not envision a real human future for the Islamic world鈥擳urkey, Syria, Egypt,听etc.鈥攚ithout a radical separation of religious and secular powers.听Otherwise it is a catastrophe!
The modernist Syrian听artist听Fateh al-Moudarres听(1922-1999)听once said, that 鈥渢he artist is a witness of their time.鈥 What are your opinions on this?
That makes sense. I would add听that听there are artists, poets and creative individuals who are part of history, but there are others who create history. History plays a part in their creative act. Everything that is institutional, political or social is bound to fade. The great kings and leaders of the world, the great political figures, they are all gone. But never Michelangelo or the great painters, who are always there. Never 迟丑别听great听poets, who听are听always there. They weave history in their production鈥攏ot just as witnesses, but as active creators. That is why it is in art that peoples and nations find their identity.
So, what role do听your works play in history?
I do not know! This is not for me to say, only the future will determine it! (he laughs).
In the 90s you wrote a book linking Sufism to Surrealism. For some, this might be a contentious pairing鈥攅specially given the anti-religious attitude of Parisian Surrealists. Can you explain how you understand the relationship between the two?
Sufism, or mysticism, is crucially misunderstood. Sufism and the Sufis, whom we call Islamic mystics, have nothing to do with official Islam. In fact, they have completely changed the conception of God in Islam. In Islam, God is a force ruling the world but outside of it, detached, much like in the Bible. For the mystic, God manifests himself immanently in the universe, and the universe is part of him鈥攄estroying the notion of God in Islam. How听then听can we call them 鈥淢uslims鈥? Secondly, the mystics have also changed the concept of identity, from one of heritage to one of creation: being born a Muslim does not mean that you will remain a Muslim. We do not inherit our identity in the same manner we may inherit a听plot of land, or a house. The human being听creates听his identity, in creating his oeuvre. Thirdly, they have changed our understanding of the other: in Islam the other is always a renegade, either a Muslim or a social reject. The mystics have reinforced equality amongst men. The听I听does not exist without the other, and in order to find myself I have to go through the other. The other is a constitutive element of the self. So, it must be clear that the mystics have subverted Islam completely, which is why Islam has forsaken them. The people here, the orientalists and their students, do not understand this. Think of the condition of being a woman in Islam: for the mystics, the feminine constitutes the origin of the world, against the official tenets of Islam. Moreover, the mystics have invented the practice of writing by dictation鈥攁 dictation which comes from beyond, like automatic writing. I have told poets,听especially Arab听poets听to read the mystics before reading Surrealist texts and being influenced by them. But they do not want to understand that it is a mysticism听without听religion! Sufism is a Surrealism听avant听la听lettre, as well as essentially an听anti-Islam听mysticism.
You have said that听Arab听poets听of the past听like Abu听N奴was听(756-814 AD), Al-Niffari听(10th century)听and Al-Ma士arri听(972-1057 AD)听invented听al-imla示, the technique of writing by dictation, a sort of automatic writing like that which the Parisian surrealists used in the 1920s. Do you see the Arab poets as precursors of Surrealism?
I do not say that, but after reading the mystics and the Surrealists I do make note of the fact that there is a Surrealism听avant听la听lettre. I have signalled this connection in my book听Sufism and Surrealism. Though, people still do not understand that I am talking about a mysticism without religion and they criticise me, even if it is written on the first page!
In your听book听Le Diwan de la听Po茅sie听Arabe听Classique (2008), you talk about reading the poetry of Abu听Nuwas听and al-Niffari听and truly understanding it as revolutionary after having connected with Surrealism. What do you mean by this?
Yes, I do think that. In order to become acquainted with Surrealism and to be inspired by it, I think that an Arab poet should read what is available in his or her language, rather than a (contested) translation of听Parisian听Surrealist texts. Read what you have in your tradition! But they do not read it, they are completely mesmerised by the other. And听by the way: Surrealism has been a great source of conceptual and visual inspiration, but it has never created a great poet. All the great poets that had encounters with Surrealism, eventually left it: Ren茅 Char, Yves听Bonnefoy, Paul听脡luard, Louis Aragon鈥ndr茅 Breton was an extraordinary theorist, a great character whom I admire as a prose writer鈥擨 am thinking of听Nadja, for example. But he was not a great poet! (he laughs).听Unfortunately, I did not have a chance to meet him, but I did meet Aragon in his last days, and Tristan听Tzara听too鈥μ齋urrealism has caused an incredible and necessary shock to society, creating painters and theorists, but there is no great poet we can call Surrealist. Al-Niffari听was the greatest Surrealist that ever existed!4听But this a contestable statement, because there are always imperialist considerations, and moreover everything that emerges from the Islamic world is immediately labelled as religious. Yet, we听cannot identify everything as religious. There are and have been many who were born Muslim but are not Muslim, neither in practice nor faith. Abu听Nuwas听was a Muslim, for instance!5听Unfortunately, people tend to generalise. Never, in writing poetry or otherwise in creating art, must we accept things for what they only seem to be. This is complicated.
Were Surrealist texts available to you in Syria in your youth?
My French was poor, I could not have听understood听them. But I did read some when I came to Paris. The majority of my friends were Surrealists. The last great Surrealist that existed was a good friend of mine and wrote a lot about me and my works鈥擜lain听Jouffroy. He wrote a very good article about me in a catalogue for 迟丑别听Institut听du Monde Arabe. And so,听I was on the side of the Surrealists: I was their friend, but only to better understand the relationship between East and West, only as a Muslim. But the term 鈥淢uslim鈥 has infinite variations. We tend to mask or even erase this variety, because it is difficult to find.听Simplification听kills听it and renders everything banal.
Would you say that what people like听the Syrian poet听Orkhan听M墨assar听(1911-1965),听Syrian painter听士Adn膩n听M墨assar听(1921-1979)听and听F膩teh听al-Moudarres听were doing in the 40s and 50s听in听art and poetry鈥攚ould you call that a Syrian, or Aleppine, Surrealism?
Yes. They were influenced both by Surrealism and by Sigmund Freud. Freud was particularly important for听Orkhan, who was a great friend of mine. Unfortunately, this was a unique case. In Egypt Surrealism enjoyed more popularity. You know, to master the body the Surrealists resorted to mescaline and drugs, like Henri Michaux鈥攖o the artificial. They resorted to the artificial to arrive at the natural. This is contradictory. The Sufi, the mystic mastered his body naturally to arrive at 迟丑别听supra-natural. That is Surrealism. The Sufi never resorted to drugs and reached a complete mastery over his body, becoming a听wandering light听in the universe. We also have to discuss the importance of femininity both for mysticism and Surrealism. The feminine is the source of existence, in it resides the essential core of this world. To quote the Sufi mystic Ibn 鈥楢rabi,听Kullu听mak膩nan听l膩听iu示annathu,听l膩听iu鈥檃wwalu听鈥榓leihu,听鈥渃onsider worthless anything that does not feminise.鈥6听
What does it mean to you to be making art today, as a Syrian? Do you think art, and your art, has a role to play in the context of war and violence?
We would have to talk about this extensively, about what it means to create in Syria right now. But let me ask, what is the difference between creating now and before? It is a matter of degree, rather than ontological. You cannot create in a society founded on religious beliefs鈥攖here cannot be any creation, only repetition. We must understand that, so that instead of supporting fundamentalism, the Muslim Brotherhood, the terrorists, we can support life and people. It is shocking to see the France of the Revolution supporting听Erdo臒an听or听supporting Saudi Arabia in its war against Yemen. I believe that the problem is no longer in the Arab world, it is in听Europe. Unfortunately, Europe has become a satellite of the United States, thanks to the influence of Trump, when it should be the opposite. Everything is subverted!
In your interviews this is generally the first question you are asked, so I will finish with it. In Ugaritic mythology, the figure of Adonis signals听迟丑别听cycle of death and听rebirth, and was an important symbol for听Shi鈥檙.听You are still using this name as an artist.听Is its symbolic content still important to you?听
At the beginning, I never thought about that. I took the name Adonis by听chance.听But in time, I came to understand that the name freed me, it completely transformed听me.听I was part of a culture, but听thanks to that name I started to break away from it, to be part of another culture.听The west was a听threshold听for me,听a completely new horizon.听But that happened with time,听not at the beginning. It was an absolute metamorphosis.听Instead of being a member of a limited civilisation,听founded on a religion vision, I听became enmeshed in the universe. The universe is my nation.