Recently, mixing the old with the new has become a recipe for a bestseller. And while the extent to which one age element overshadows the other is specific to each work, the final outcome is a catalogue of mashed-up creations that stand proudly behind the stories they tell.
After making my way through the labyrinth-like new buildings at the American University in Cairo’s (AUC) New Cairo campus, a daunting feeling conquered me as I arrived at Nagla Samir’s latest collection titled “Forgotten Voices. AUC’s photographic gallery in Abdul Latif Jameel Hall is currently showing 30 digital photographs of what is originally a series of 50 artworks, some of which were previously exhibited nationally and abroad.
Samir uses old school portraits as the foundation for her collection, back when photographs were restricted to orchestrated studio shots taken against man-made backgrounds mirroring landscape scenes. Using digital aids, she isolates each of her subjects, focusing on individual facial expressions, which, for the purpose of this collection, are rather daunting.
It was in 2006 that Samir found her inspiration, a 1920 photograph of a young girl dressed in a wedding-like gown, gazing out fearfully. The juxtaposition of the flowers she held in her hand and weary look in her eyes was what compelled the artist to dig out archival portraits of school children who appeared fearful of their future.
While such fear is easily overlooked in the original photograph of the entire classroom, a closer look puts each child in the limelight as if giving them a space to communicate their minds, a space for their voices to be heard.
This collection is based on two kindergarten class images dating back to 1926 and 1928.
Before entering the showroom, the viewer is greeted by 12 sepia portraits from Samir’s 2007 collection. Hanging in doubles, six on each side of the gallery’s entrance, the suite succeeds in setting the mood of this entire collection.
The inside of the showroom lives up to its entrance, with impeccable curation and plenty of space to fully breathe in the experience.
To the right hand side of the entrance, the viewer meets a photo of a young girl sitting on a high wooden chair, with her hands folded on her lap, her socks pulled up and her shirt buttoned with a bow tie.
She looks stiff, tied down and defeated. Such stiffness is a result of the rigid nature that characterized taking pictures in the past. But on top of that, it is the outcome of a general oppression that infested middle class Egyptians in the 1920s.
Another photograph depicts a little boy standing next to his teacher. It is fascinating to see that the rigid composition of the photograph is not only restricted to the children but also to pictures where their teachers are portrayed, proving that such oppression was not only child-bound.
Arguably one of the best pieces on display is the collection’s brainchild: “Girl holding flowers, 2006. Here, Samir uses evident digital work to distort the background scene.
The result is a disturbing set of glum shades that fade into both her hair and her feet, presenting the girl as part of a distressed state.
Another suite is composed of young children holding on to their stuffed animal toys. This particular collection shows fearful children finding comfort in a miniature of themselves, creatures that are just as helpless.
Samir’s fearless attempt to meddle with treasures of the past is notable for both its originality and attention to detail. In addition to refashioning the background, isolating her little subjects succeeded in bringing out their loneliness and sense of desperation, emotions that have been captive for almost a century.
Upon exiting the showroom, I couldn’t help but be thankful for the modern modes of taking photographs, and a time when Egypt is a little less oppressive.
