“So, those are pictures of your fingers?” I put on my practiced “impressed face” and nodded enthusiastically.“And all the photos were taken with my mobile phone.” The artist added with equal enthusiasm.
He went on to explain how inspiration struck one afternoon while painting the interior of his house. Playing around with different concrete stains, architect Bassem Al Mansour dipped his fingers in red, then yellow paint and when he looked as his hand saw that his digits resembled the forms of people. He ran from one window to the next trying to find the best light that would bring his finger family’s stories to life.
The result was a duet exhibition, called Familiar Matters (his fingers and the print work of a friend/artistic partner), showing unframed photos with such titles as “Grandmother – grandchildren,” “Engagement blessings,” “Grandmother kisses the bride,” “We agree on the marriage,” and “The Visit.” Each role in the saga played by Bassem’s paint-covered keyboard tappers.
As an editorialist, amateur art critic and sometimes cynic, I’m not sure how to feel about this exhibit. For my magazine review I will, no doubt, spin it positively, noting the unusual whit of a story told, literally, with finger paint. It takes a curious and unaffected mind to see painted fingers and look for a story rather than the nearest sink and bar of soap. The repetitive simplicity of a blue background with red and yellow objects in the foreground reassures my comfort with primary colors and his descriptive titles cause a quick snort of a smile.
All these things are much appreciated in Kuwait, a somewhat sober and irritated place. Goofy humor and adult playfulness without illicit underpinnings are rare. Maybe too rare to entertain the funny bone of the local art socialites. The overall low attendance and rapid exit of those visitors might suggest non-interest, confusion, distaste or just disappointment that so few other gallery snobs will get to see them in their new Luis Vuitton shoes.
On the cynical side, I wonder if Kuwait is so parched for humor that pictures of someone’s fingers, taken with a mobile phone, enlarged, printed and hung with Scotch tape can get an audience in one of the country’s premier fine art galleries – a gallery that also holds an original Warhol. I wonder if this is another example of the small-pond-syndrome that surrounds this tiny, filthy, rich country. We say it all the time: You can be average anywhere, but in Kuwait you’ll be exceptional and my skepticism raises an unimpressed eyebrow at the “art” exhibit of which I am professionally obligated to give a positive review. In the end I'll appease myself with the fact that I like the artist personally and the praise is going to a well-deserving person.
Would Familiar Matters make it into an art gallery in London or New York? I wouldn’t know – what do you think?
