Winds with sand from as far as India, blow high over the hills in Amman, the capital of Jordan. From the hill tops the encroaching dessert is visible, but in the city a stream of art centres and galleries flows vibrantly. Covered in a constant film of gritty dust and sweat, a month spent exploring the Amman arts scene, while exhausting, is not enough.
Amman's art world is like any major capital, and one can only skirt its edges and content themselves with the fringe when determining its trends: Art in Amman is cosmopolitan, sophisticated and fun, chic and edgy. It is also modern, conservative, liberal, refreshing, frustrating, provocative and new.

To initially investigate Jordan's art is to understand its deeply influential traditional cultures and its bearing on creative output. Amman is considered to be one of the more liberal countries in the Middle-East region, yet people will lower their voices when touching on certain topics seen outside the social boundaries of ‘acceptable conversation'. Jordanians will tell you that there are ‘mukhabarat', secret police, everywhere. Similar to the Stasi regime of the former East German regime, the ‘mukhabarat' eavesdrop on their countrymen with the help of thousands of Jordanians on its payroll. The ostensible aim of this ubiquitous system is to prevent any potential terrorist threats but those who stray from the norm, and challenge a rigid establishment are also investigated. This includes artists that sometimes create images, words and forms that are not seen as appropriate to Jordanian life or threaten the status quo.

In 1996 poet Sameer al-Qudah was sentenced to a year in prison when, at a cultural festival, he recited one of his poems that heavily criticised the State.
"I was young when I asked you about our radio, Dad.
I heard them repeating a word, that rang in our ears
And do you see Dad
Our neighbours' radio transmits it.
He answered, Of course, honey, we all have to hear it
In our dawn, our morning, noon,
Afternoon, and night,
When we wake up, when we sleep"
(Sameer al-Qudah, November 2004)

WOMEN

"We are the people who know everything", said a policeman to artist Rima Malallah when she was approached by police when painting a large-scale mural, commissioned by the Radisson Hotel, on a wall owned by the hotel in Amman city centre. The police informed her that they were told that she was painting scenes with Satan in them. When she repeatedly insisted that she was painting birds and trees and people, they finally let her continue.
The police were the least of Rima's problems. The wall, approximately 500 square meters, is along a strip of road that operates as a highway through the city, visible to the thousands of cars that pass daily. Well-known for her murals that brighten some city centre walls, Rima uses vibrant, strong, clear colours. Her murals burst with colourful and purposefully puerile scenes. She uses clear lines, heavily influenced by Pop and cartoon art. It took Rima two months during Amman's relentless summer heat to paint the Radisson Hotel wall, during which time she was stalked, harassed, jeered, and at one point even attacked. Two cars also crashed into her scaffold. A young Jordanian woman painting the most visible and vibrant public art in Amman was not a commonly accepted site.
Rima's problems stem mostly from the fact that she is a strong and open woman, creating seemingly innocent images, in a country that continues to struggle with gender roles and female rights. She is funny and direct. She is a paradox that cannot be placed within Jordan's strict traditional boundaries.

Traditionally Jordanian women are expected to live with their parents, unless they are married. Sex before marriage is forbidden to the extent that sexually active woman have been known to have hymen reconstructive surgery before their marriages. In 1998 it was estimated that between 25 - 30 women were killed in Jordan in ‘honour crimes' (Jordan Times Saturday, December 19, 1998). This type of murder is carried out by male relatives of women suspected of engaging in ‘immoral behaviour'. Levels of domestic violence are still high.

IRAQ

Jordan's proximity to Iraq is ever dominant in its artistic developments. Since the launch of galleries such as the Orfali, by Iraqi lady Innaam Orfali in 1993, Iraqi citizens seeking more stable lives have come to Amman, bringing with them their artistic verve. Iraq enjoys many more established artistic institutions than Jordan, with a string of centres of fine art learning in Baghdad. Amman, in comparison, opened its first and only art school in the last ten years. It is a younger, but rapidly developing scene. The Orfali is an example of one of Amman's high-end commercial galleries. Many of its represented artists are from Iraq, or Kurdistan Iraq. One of its artists, Serwan, a Kurd now living in Amman, fled Baghdad when he was shot at when leaving one of the Saddam palaces after he was asked to go there to repair his paintings that had been ripped from the walls during the 2003 invasion, and replaced by the next regime. Serwan, an artist whose work is fascinated by the elapse of time and the changing of societies, explained that this was not uncommon. The Saddam palaces and subsequent government buildings were full of contemporary art works.
Serwan's paintings display high levels of skill in drawing, the result of years of formal training. He has many paintings depicting, in various forms, two ghostly, wispy figures - one growing from the shoulders of the figure beneath. He says this is representative of societies in general: how societies that emerge only do so by pushing down on another. These paintings are spectacular, yet subtle works that will soon find their way onto the world art stage. Serwan is well established in the Jordanian art market and will exhibit in Dusseldorf next year. He categorically states that his work is not political, but his audience may conclude differently knowing he is not only a Kurd that lived in Iraq, but also a Kurd that fled Baghdad when his life came under threat.

REMEDY

Jordanian artists, though coming from a less established art institution than Iraqi contemporaries, still display levels of artistic achievement that far exceeds their informal training. Hani Alqam, an oil painter and highly skilled printmaker, creates images of scratchy, semi-abstract bodies that focus on spidery, suspicious fingers and hands, and distorted noses. His mysterious characters are elusive, powerful and alluring. Alqam is another artist whose name will undoubtedly be heard at more international levels.
Artist Anees Maani also has no formal fine art training but has created sculptures that are reminiscent of works by Henry Moore. Through an apprenticeship, he has fine tuned his skills and has created fascinating pieces that are on display outside Jordan's National Gallery of Fine Art and throughout the city galleries. His sculptures have a unique sense of rhythm. They flow in ways that could be interpreted as waves or hill tops, bodies or trees.
Raed Ibrahim is one of the few artists in the country directly commenting on social situations that are usually considered off the table for public debate. In January this year at the progressive MaKan Art centre in the artsy Weibdeh district of Amman, Raed exhibited his installations entitled: ‘For Every Ailment there is a Remedy'. For this he developed his own pills and medicines that would cure awkward social circumstances, all addressing sensitive topics in Jordanian culture. Each pill bottle was accompanied by a promotional poster all in the satirical genre of the pharmaceutical world, using language that encouraged the view that the bottle and poster were real. His dry-humoured approach, ironically perhaps, saved him from trouble with the authorities.
He created the ‘Virginfinity Creme', a cream that when used after sexual activity restores the hymen and will "put your worries to an end". The ‘Araborepressed' is a pill that gives Arab men a "long and short term sexual suppression cure". The ‘Gayom' pill is a pill to make gay people straight. He addresses highly sensitive subjects such as domestic violence with the ‘Discrifem' pill - a treatment to speed up recovery from the effects of domestic violence. The promotional line reads: "A Pill A Day Makes You Obey".
Raed doesn't ignore the political sensitivities in Jordan and the greater Middle East region. ‘Jordico' is an all encompassing tonic for any Jordanian attempting to be ‘more loyal', a direct comment on the country's many ethnic divisions and lack of one national identity. ‘Refuteen', a suppository for refugees, "affects long term memory of places and reinforces short term memory in relation to environment, which will give patients a feeling of stability and security". This is a reference to Jordan's Palestinian population that regard themselves as refuges and not Jordanians.
Raed aims to shock the viewer, doing so by making them laugh, therefore softening the blow. This combination, very acutely succeeds in shedding light and generating debate on otherwise taboo subjects. He comments on all the extremes and ridiculousness of societies, holding a mirror up to them. His ‘pill bottles' ‘tonics' and ‘pharmaceutical posters' make you laugh and sometimes want to cry.
There is a vibrant and challenging art scene in Amman, promoted by its Art Centres such as Darat al Fanun, Makan and Nibad, to mention a few, and by highly attuned and original individual artists. Established as a stable and safe country in a greater region of ongoing conflict, a visit to Jordan to experience its fine art scene is unique.

Mory CUNNINGHAM
is a critic and writer and currently lives in Amman.