Tribute to Ismail Ashour

Описание: Ismail Ashour selects the lexicon of his word from a memory furnished with the vigour of life. You can but close your eyes and open them to his painting for a vast space to open with them that spreads like the reading book, for the village to wake up and for the fields to gather the harvesters. The little town twirls with, innocence totally immersed in it, so that you can almost hear the noise of the people and children’s play and inhale the tender dew laden air of Palestine. He is a guard, this able loving painter .He neglects not the slightest twitch or the tiniest gesture that colour this memory . Nevertheless, he is not a tourist or the tiniest guide pointing with tenderness, with pity and embarrassment from the distance to the wrinkles of the land . But he is weed and stone, every spring and basketmaker, and every home loom and home. As if all this not suffcicient, he establishes connections between the palestinian folkloric life and its components. Thus the mute paper becomes the whole of Palestine. You need only look closely in order to enter into it and become part with its people. Ismail Ashour neglects not, with his prompt and precise captions, to furnish your memory with the people’s inherited speech, their proverbs abd saying spun in the looms of their continued life . You are invited to Palestine, and you stand among these simple people an owner of a home. You ponder upon this land resurrected by Ismail , dressed with colour and furnished with memory, you see that man is in the center of light, either a craftsman or another of some relation . And for a certain intention, he revolves around a particular generation . All his characters appear to be in their forties, except for a few he brought in to complement the scene. Perhaps this is not a coincidence; traditionally, the bread winner in the Palestinian family is the father. The artist who borrows the eyes of his childhood to gather the pieces of his world can only see his father the same as a child. As you move along, you to notice the similarity and familiarity of the faces, setting a dramatic line connecting humanbeings. These are not faces of trendy modeles posing in traditional graments, but faces whoes features are shaped from the earth of the village, scortched by its sun pulsating with its tradition . They are all kins, or seem to be, so that with a little imagination you tend to inquire of one of them about the dwellings of another . Then, a boy from an another drawing would takes you by the hand to guide you to your destination. Let me reveal a secret . The artist did his drawings in black and white. Then he convinced by a friend’s advice, he applied his colours Just like the old photographer (who is also portrayed there ) he roams the old quarters, and puts his timid touches for his characters to get their dress in all its colours and wrinkles and shadows, as if on a day of the feast, it is so becoming to wear new clothes on the day of the feast. This innocent episode to the nature of the residence place in the artist’s mind. They are ever preset, because he is one of them and a son of theirs.If artistic constraints of space and dimensions ratios and perspective depth and shading confine the artist, the colour spring from the nature of our country, serving these worlds dwell in the memory and the mind of an artist, a Palestinian from Ashkelon (Askalan). He walks in our midst, yet he allows us, not knowingly perhapes, to point at a living city accompanied by the Tboon of the village and the Sheikh of the Kuttab and the ladies of the loom and the embroidery. How can a book such as this one lead its viewers to another time that may not be recovered, and erupt a yearning to a place that must be restored. This is Ismail’s mark, his mission, who burns his wood and wrestles with his paints to accomplish a unique visualdialect. Examine the figures and the foothills of EL- Majdal. The beautiful book shall reply; but you are in all of palestine. With this book you are all welcome to Palestine.
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