Adonis, born Ali Ahmad Said泭Esber泭in al-Qassabin泭(Syria) in 1930, is a poet, writer and visual artist. Adonis泭was exiled to Beirut in 1956 and moved to Paris in 1985, where he is泭still based. In addition to his poetry, for which he was awarded the Goethe Prize in 2011泭amongst others, Adonis has written about泭literature and art泭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.泭In conversation with泭Immediations泭editors Ambra泭DAntone泭and Erica Payet, Adonis discusses the different dimensions of his visual practice.
Adonis, you have an impressive泭reputation as a poet, more so than as a visual artist. In previous interviews, any mention of your泭visual泭works is always泭attached to larger泭discussions泭about your泭poetry.泭Nevertheless, when reading your poetry and looking at your works we can see immediately泭 that you泭try to break the ideological boundaries between the two, so that artist and poet are no longer泭distinct identities.泭In泭keeping our focus泭on your visual works in our discussion today, we wish to bring out泭this aspect of your work and to have a larger understanding of your artistic practice. 泭Let us start泭by directly addressing the objects.泭
I have to say from the beginning that I dont have a background in painting, properly speaking, or in sculpture. I dont come from that tradition. It is true that I have met many artists and sculptors, and that I have written extensively about them,泭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泭garden,泭he works in the fields and泭changes泭them. There is change and there is reconstructionwithin this cycle, everything is poetry. Everything, even love地ll of it. I wanted泭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夸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 youve written about themsometimes one gets fed up of writing and readingso I told myself why not try making something, giving your hands泭away泭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 Its a friend of mine (he laughs), I did not have the guts to tell him it was me! He said that hed 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: So, where is your friend?泭Only then did I泭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, thats 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存o you see, I am in demand! Thats how I carry on with it.
What type of subjects泭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泭I am not an ideological man泭and I feel like I have been thrown into泭this universe.泭I dont concern myself with泭hard-core politics, with regimes泭and ideology,泭my works are泭not about泭that.泭I question泭beauty, love, the meaning of life,泭喧堯梗泭future,泭喧堯梗泭poverty that泭is so widespread in the world.泭Why is there poverty, in a world so rich and varied?
You prefer to call your works泭娶硃梁蘋鳥硃泭(堭堜), rather than collages. Why?
Thats it,泭娶硃梁蘋鳥硃.泭We constantly have to create.泭I泭come from泭an泭Arab泭culture, and in Arabic the word泭collage泭has a bit of a negative connotation. But there is a word,泭raqama泭or泭raqana,泭which designates泭both泭the ink and the form, the line. So, I thought, I ought to invent泭a new word,泭娶硃梁蘋鳥硃, instead of saying collage.
Can you say a bit more about the importance of materiality and of technique for 喧堯梗泭娶硃梁蘋鳥硃?泭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泭made up of泭different words, from God to a pebble. So, you see,泭my material can be everything.泭Anything I see, no matter what,泭plays a part in the symphony of the work. Everything, without exception. Thats 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 This guy is crazy!泭(he laughs).泭You see, it is like giving meaning to泭the insignificant.
You have said before that泭you have a problem with painting, with colour, and that you prefer using ink.1泭In the Fifties and Sixties, some artists rejected artificial paint,泭inspired by prehistory or pursuing a political statement. Do you establish a dialogue with these practices?
This is really personal.泭Using ink gives me more freedom than traditional colours, but I know this is relative.泭Maybe one day, if I ever have泭a big泭studio, I could master泭colour, create my own. Maybe then I could change. You see, everything is open for me, everything is possibleeven the impossible.泭Ink is easier, I have control over it. I always like being at the core of my materials:泭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泭four泭works. A friend of mine,泭a泭painter, came to me and I told him how much Id love泭experimenting with paint.2泭He encouraged泭me,泭and I produced four canvases.泭He liked them and he plans to exhibit them in Venice! Those canvases are my first works not on paper.泭There have been many interesting experiences with paint in the past, there were many artists that used a variety of materials even without paint.泭Whether I am in dialogue with them dependsin the last analysis,泭the work of art for me is form, not an idea. The essential泭moment is the creation of new form, and the idea will follow. This is not easy.泭But this means that the artwork is open to every possibility, to every materiality. I can say this for sure: there are no limitations,泭and if there were there would be no art at all. The creation of art泭necessarily泭exceeds the boundaries泭placed on form.
The medium of泭娶硃梁蘋鳥硃泭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,泭a work of art is important only insofar as it泭opens itself up to a myriad of interpretations.泭Its wealth resides in that.泭When泭the meaning of an artwork is hard to pin down, that work is泭like an aperture泭onto infinity.泭Thats why the Old Masters泭are still talking to us. Michelangelo is here right泭now;泭he泭is drinking泭Perrier with us!泭(he laughs)
In the past, you have talked about the hand as泭being a privileged tool that is泭rarely泭subjected to mental censorship. Can you泭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泭and泭other histories. There is a perennial preoccupation with and interest in 喧堯梗泭mind and what it does: the creation of language, culture,泭imagination泭etc.泭 But we always forget about the hands. Think about it: hands are a thing of genius!泭Thats because they have no reins. The head is constricted by泭rational rules and limitations. While the head thinks, the hands泭play,泭and they are泭the absolute players. Art is 喧堯梗泭great game, in the positive sense, and God, who has created this world that is so varied and infinitely complex泭(but you can believe whatever you want), is the greatest player of all.泭So, I think, we need to free our hands.泭The artist, especially, plays with the hands:泭the coincidences and chance encounters between form and colour cannot happen泭but with泭the hands, because the head is always泭busy泭thinking,泭being rational!泭Hands are not enmeshed in calculations, and thats why they matter.泭Though,泭this泭has been neglected by the public and by historians: have you read a single book about the history of hands in England?泭In Islam, hands have accomplished wondrous and beautiful thingsnot the head.泭There are hand-woven carpets that are worth泭thousands of books! Thats why I believe we have to care for the hands and set their genius free.泭Unfortunately, in order to do that I泭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,泭or泭a restrictive tradition.泭There are conditions.
In your泭娶硃梁蘋鳥硃泭the written language泭plays a crucial visual function,泭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泭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.泭It absolutely cannot be reduced to an illustration, an accompaniment.泭Form and writing are not separate, no. They are a whole.泭Thats why I occasionally use a pseudo-script, an imitation of language:泭I do not wish to create a writing and a work, but a work made of words, of lines and of ink.泭It is not a process of addition, but a totality.
Can you talk a bit about the poetry fragments that you choose for泭your works?
In principle, I like to celebrate the great Arab poets of the past.泭Poetry is very marginalised in Arab society, although Arabs have created nothing but poetry! It is their single greatest creation.泭Despite that, it is not well泭known,泭and泭it is泭disregarded.泭That is why I like to泭celebrate泭those poetseverything I write is meant to pay homage to them泭and泭to poetry.
Your work speaks in泭and of泭different泭languages:泭Arabic, your native language and the language you write in;泭French;泭the language of poetry; 喧堯梗泭visual language; 喧堯梗泭language of political criticism. What is the language you feel泭best泭conveys what you want to say?
Fortunately, or maybe unfortunately, we only have one mother.泭Maybe we have more than one father, though尖ou never know! (he laughs). But one mother only.泭The language of creation is泭喧堯梗泭mother泭tongue. My mother tongue is Arabic, so I write and create in Arabic. Additionally, there are泭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泭Shir泭together with Yusuf al-Khal,泭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泭issue泭around泭translation is really complicated, and on top of that we can never reach泭a consensus.泭Translators and writers are always criticising each others translations! Once a friend of mine who is Russian told me I beg you, Adonis. Do not read泭Pushkin in French, because rather than translations those are deformations!泭I asked other friends of mine who are French, and泭they liked the French translations! My泭beloved friend Yves泭Bonnefoy, who has泭unfortunately passed away, translated Shakespeare. I could never find any English speaker who could criticise his translations! But, instead of admitting that Yves泭Bonnefoy泭has given Shakespeare a new dimension in French, we always criticise his way of translating and of rendering the original words. Translation is泭a space of conflict. Although, despite that, I firmly believe that our future泭culture will be founded on translation, or it will not exist at all.泭For me, the importance of translation is beyond discussion.泭We live in a multi-cultural and -linguistically plural泭environment; without translation there will be no future, because the future泭is泭translation. New generations will have to speak different languages,泭because only one language is泭absolute povertyit cannot work!泭At the same time, translating泭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.泭First,泭I believe that泭in order to泭translate poetry泭it is necessary to泭be deeply aware of what poetry is, it is necessary to know the poet and his language, more than泭ones own泭mother-tongue.泭The mother-tongue receives泭the other, and so must be intimately acquainted with it. Secondly, we cannot translate literally.泭There can never be any word-to-word泭correspondence from one language to another, never. Because words in a poem dont come from a dictionary, but from their context, from their relationship with泭the words before and after, as well as from its role within the imagination.泭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 translationcan you tell us about your experiences exhibiting your visual work to the public in Paris,泭London泭and China? Were those experiences different from each other?
The Chinese are more open, more understanding and泭disinterested in the art market that dominates Europe. I have sold many works in泭China, but only to intellectuals and such people. I think I am better understood in China than in Europe, although there are individuals in Europebut it is a handful of peoplewho understand my works and my poetry.
In terms of being understood and communicating with an audience, is泭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泭myself泭better. Who am I? Secondly, I write to understand 喧堯梗泭other泭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,泭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.
Lets talk about your life away泭from Syria. You once said that泭exile泭is an internal condition rather than a geographical one.3泭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泭at birth a state of泭exile. This essential and existential exile泭is a product of the ambiguities of the world we live in. Why live? Why die?泭Why live, if only to die?泭If we only live to die, why be born at all? So, you see, the problem goes deeper than ideology and泭faith. Religious faith is appealing to people, because they no泭longer have to think or to search or to struggle. They follow a ritual, and that calms them down.泭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.泭For them the world is a constant search,泭so泭they are always exiled. Even when I am writing,泭I can never fully express myselfI am泭exiled within language.泭Today I am not who I was yesterday, I have changed. There is no place where泭man stays the same throughout his life. The condition of exile has nothing to do with geography; it is泭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 psychologicalI like to see who I was and, by contrast, who I have become. It is very personal. My泭country泭is these two or three meters where my feet touched the earth for the first time.
Lets talk about regionalism: for example, Turkey and Syria are neighbouring countries, and have泭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羹rk and his reforms. A country based on泭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圯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 decadencedecay and the ultimate end! I do not envision a real human future for the Islamic worldTurkey, Syria, Egypt,泭etc.without a radical separation of religious and secular powers.泭Otherwise it is a catastrophe!
The modernist Syrian泭artist泭Fateh al-Moudarres泭(1922-1999)泭once said, that the artist is a witness of their time. What are your opinions on this?
That makes sense. I would add泭that泭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 喧堯梗泭great泭poets, who泭are泭always there. They weave history in their productionnot 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泭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 pairingespecially 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 himdestroying the notion of God in Islam. How泭then泭can we call them Muslims? 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泭plot of land, or a house. The human being泭creates泭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泭I泭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 dictationa dictation which comes from beyond, like automatic writing. I have told poets,泭especially Arab泭poets泭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泭without泭religion! Sufism is a Surrealism泭avant泭la泭lettre, as well as essentially an泭anti-Islam泭mysticism.
You have said that泭Arab泭poets泭of the past泭like Abu泭N贖was泭(756-814 AD), Al-Niffari泭(10th century)泭and Al-Ma尪arri泭(972-1057 AD)泭invented泭al-imla尨, 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泭avant泭la泭lettre. I have signalled this connection in my book泭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泭book泭Le Diwan de la泭Po矇sie泭Arabe泭Classique (2008), you talk about reading the poetry of Abu泭Nuwas泭and al-Niffari泭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泭Parisian泭Surrealist texts. Read what you have in your tradition! But they do not read it, they are completely mesmerised by the other. And泭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矇 Char, Yves泭Bonnefoy, Paul泭luard, Louis Aragon再ndr矇 Breton was an extraordinary theorist, a great character whom I admire as a prose writerI am thinking of泭Nadja, for example. But he was not a great poet! (he laughs).泭Unfortunately, I did not have a chance to meet him, but I did meet Aragon in his last days, and Tristan泭Tzara泭too米Surrealism 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泭was the greatest Surrealist that ever existed!4泭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泭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泭Nuwas泭was a Muslim, for instance!5泭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泭understood泭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 worksAlain泭Jouffroy. He wrote a very good article about me in a catalogue for 喧堯梗泭Institut泭du Monde Arabe. And so,泭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 Muslim has infinite variations. We tend to mask or even erase this variety, because it is difficult to find.泭Simplification泭kills泭it and renders everything banal.
Would you say that what people like泭the Syrian poet泭Orkhan泭M蘋assar泭(1911-1965),泭Syrian painter泭尪Adnn泭M蘋assar泭(1921-1979)泭and泭Fteh泭al-Moudarres泭were doing in the 40s and 50s泭in泭art and poetrywould you call that a Syrian, or Aleppine, Surrealism?
Yes. They were influenced both by Surrealism and by Sigmund Freud. Freud was particularly important for泭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 Michauxto 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 喧堯梗泭supra-natural. That is Surrealism. The Sufi never resorted to drugs and reached a complete mastery over his body, becoming a泭wandering light泭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 Arabi,泭Kullu泭maknan泭l泭iu尨annathu,泭l泭iuawwalu泭aleihu,泭consider worthless anything that does not feminise.6泭
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 beliefsthere 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泭Erdoan泭or泭supporting Saudi Arabia in its war against Yemen. I believe that the problem is no longer in the Arab world, it is in泭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泭喧堯梗泭cycle of death and泭rebirth, and was an important symbol for泭Shir.泭You are still using this name as an artist.泭Is its symbolic content still important to you?泭
At the beginning, I never thought about that. I took the name Adonis by泭chance.泭But in time, I came to understand that the name freed me, it completely transformed泭me.泭I was part of a culture, but泭thanks to that name I started to break away from it, to be part of another culture.泭The west was a泭threshold泭for me,泭a completely new horizon.泭But that happened with time,泭not at the beginning. It was an absolute metamorphosis.泭Instead of being a member of a limited civilisation,泭founded on a religion vision, I泭became enmeshed in the universe. The universe is my nation.