Gaza
I have never painted pain, but Gaza epitomized pain. The livestream suffering we have witnessed has no words to describe it. This painting had to be painted, certifying that I bore witness to my lifetime's worst global tragedy.
Notes on painting, process, and the life of the work.
I have never painted pain, but Gaza epitomized pain. The livestream suffering we have witnessed has no words to describe it. This painting had to be painted, certifying that I bore witness to my lifetime's worst global tragedy.
Dino, my Baladi/Golden Retriever, came into our lives in 2020 a few months after my father passed away from COVID and while I cared for my ailing mother; a very hard time in my life. Thank goodness for him, he brought us joy and distraction. He taught me how to live in the moment and to just be, finding joy in the little things. My life is richer with him in it.
I had a professor who told me once that painting on canvas is often restricting because it makes you paint preciously. Canvas is expensive and hence precious. She gave me an assignment to paint on anything except canvas, whatever I had laying around. In my college dorm, cardboard was plentiful, so I used that to paint quick sketches and expressive gestural drawings… it was liberating. That's what I needed when I bought some large sheets of Kraft paper. The freedom to make mistakes, to not be precious with my strokes.
These two pieces arose from this exercise and I love them. They are spontaneous and light, the circles boldly drawn; in one I saw my dog Dino jumping, the other, a pregnant woman, with some sort of drone hovering behind her… well, I'm not sure… we all see different things; but the important result is that it came from within, without reservation, without restriction… without being precious.
In the summer of 2016, I had to drive every morning for a few weeks to care for my mother at a stroke rehabilitation center in a small town in New Jersey. It was the most difficult time of my life. The drive there was for 40 minutes on a most pleasant road with some beautiful landscapes; had I not been so scared and anxious, I might have enjoyed the ride. One day, the 8 AM morning light was particularly special, a hint of Autumn filled the air and I managed to stop on a small bridge over a river bed to take a few photos. It was so peaceful and beautiful, I thought one day, if I got out of this nightmare, I'd paint it. A year later, I managed to do so... it's a small oil on canvas, but I'm happy with it. I'm still not fully recovered from the trauma I went through, but painting this has managed to soften some of the memories from a time and place I wish I could forget.
These days it's so easy to chronicle anything. Before the advent of phone cameras, the idea of taking several photos of each stage of a painting was time consuming and cumbersome, let alone taking a video. But now, it's so easy, and well worth it for a number of reasons. Seeing the progression of a work is not only fascinating for viewers but also for the artist! We can quickly check our progress when away from the portrait, compare to previous stages and make decisions about how we want the painting to progress.
Below is my first attempt to chronicle the making of a portrait. You'll discover the process of my painting, how I sketched it out first, blocked in color and shade and how I changed the proportions of the face a couple of times, going so far as wiping out half the face only to repaint it again (it was too long!) At the end, I've revealed the main source photo from which I worked... It was a fun process. I discovered that viewing the painting in a photo on a smaller device (iPhone and then iPad) allowed me to take a "virtual step back" from the canvas that allowed me to make choices I may not have made otherwise.
I finished an oil portrait today of the daughter of a dear friend of mine from college days. My friend posted a picture of her daughter, Lara Nour, on occasion of her 14th birthday some weeks ago. I was drawn to the photo and asked if it would be okay to paint it.
Usually, I like to do portraits based on my own sketches and photos and usually of someone I can meet in person. But given that she lived half way across the globe, this single photo would have to do. I can't always explain why I am drawn to paint a particular image, but I think in this case, her pose and gaze were particularly engaging; possessing a sort of innocent wisdom of a teenage girl on the verge of womanhood.
It's been a while since I last painted... It's a daunting task to return to a blank canvas after so long... And particularly hard when no particular subject matter or emotion is begging at me to be painted. The subconscious quiets when away from painting, it gets harder to hear it. Painting (or any art making, I guess) requires a shift in focus, or rather a de-focusing, a sort of letting go of the noise in our minds. I suppose like meditation. And it requires practice and space and time... things we often push aside. Well, it was a good warm up... hopefully, I can keep at it.
I was tickled to see my dear college room mate Lani revisit Wellesley with her son and husband to see her portrait that I painted for the Slater International house over 23 years ago!
The painting was commissioned by Sylvia Heistand, the director of Slater back in 1993. There was an empty panel above the fireplace that she thought needed some color. I thought long and hard about what to paint; I wanted something relevant to the place. I chose a series of portraits of my classmates who hailed from all over the world. I'm glad Wellesley chose to keep the painting this long :)
Just because there's something free, whimsical and beautiful about butterflies...
Portraits are tough, but I love doing them. I think that's because I like the challenge of trying to capture the likeness of a person. During a Spring Festival for charity in one of Zamalek's parks, I donated my time by offering 15 minute portraits for EGP 200. It was a very fun day and I had a few happy customers :)
Out of the blue, I received a very heartwarming email via my website from a stranger in a far away place I'd never been... A teacher in the UK, reached out with a request....
Dear Ms Badrawi,
My colleagues and I are teachers in a small school on the south coast of Britain. Our topic this term is 'where in the world' and we are focussing on Egypt. As part of our topic we are learning about you as an artist. We have explored your style and technique and the children have used this to create their own images. They came up with the idea of making contact with you as you are an artist that is 'still alive'! This has been a revelation to some of our children.
Would it be possible if you could write a short e-mail that we could read to the children and maybe give them some tips?
Many thanks and the children look forward to hearing from you soon,
Jaz Jeffery, Medmerry Primary School, West Sussex
We then exchanged emails and the children asked me questions (listed and answered below). They also sent me these beautiful drawings based on my own paintings!
— Have you always known that you have wanted to be an artist?
No, not really. As a child, I liked to draw and paint to fill my time when I wasn't doing homework or playing with friends. When I was sick in bed with the flu, we didn't have electronic games or even much to watch on TV here in Egypt, so I spent a lot of time with colouring books and my sketchbook. When I was about 15, I realized that I could be an artist and that whatever I did as an adult would have to be related to art somehow.
— How do you make your paintings so realistic?
Practice! I spent many long hours staring at whatever was in front of me, looking very carefully at what I saw and trying to make my hand draw what I saw. Being observant is very important for an artist, because that's how you SEE how things look… how a shadow falls on the ground, how many colour greens actually make up a plant, and how something closer to you must be drawn bigger than what is farther from you even though the object closer to you may actually be physically smaller than the other object! Drawing something realistically means drawing what you see, not what you know.
— How do you create reflections in the water?
Good question! This is one of the hardest things to draw. Again, you have to draw what you see…which takes practice… a reflection should be the same colour as the object being reflected. In the painting some of you chose to draw, the one of the palm trees and the Nile river, you'll notice that I used the same green colour of the trees in the water but I used short brush strokes to make it look like water. Then I used a little bit of blue and white from the sky in the same way… and so the combination makes a reflection!
— Have you a particular painting that is really special to you?
This is a very tough question. I don't think I can choose only one painting — there are many. And the reasons for favourites are usually because they have, in some way, accomplished something I worked hard to achieve. Sometimes it could be that I got that reflection JUST right, or I managed to paint a face to look like the person… painting is always a challenge and when you achieve the goal, the painting becomes special.
— How long does it take you to complete one painting?
I usually take one or two days to complete one painting. I work intensively for several hours at a time (with breaks of course!) until I finish. I don't like leaving a painting unfinished because I then get bored of it :)
— What different media do you work in?
I mainly paint with oil, but I also draw with charcoal and pastel. Leaning to become an artist I have tried almost every medium, from bronze sculpture to batik, but usually an artist chooses a favourite medium pretty quickly.
— Where do you get your inspiration from?
This is probably the hardest thing for an artist. For me, I have always been inspired by my everyday life in Egypt. The scenery, the architecture, the people. But sometimes inspiration can come from one's imagination and feelings; the key for me is to continually be observant — to SEE what is around me and try to show it to people in a different, beautiful way.