A photo essay. (To view all photos, check out the email version of this story.)
When we featured him last November, local sculptor Mohamad Hafez was steeped in profound turmoil, watching from afar as his homeland, Syria, was torn apart by civil war. His architectural artwork, which heโd started years before with modest, lightly textured facades of Syrian buildingsโmeant to be a salve for simple homesicknessโhad evolved into large, technically refined cityscapes and abstractions imbued with sharp emotional and moral content.
A year (and a new studio space) later, the works have gotten larger, more refined and sharper, right along with his inner anguish. As the war in Syria continues, heโs also watched his adopted homeland, America, endure a scorched-earth political season, whose resulting president-elect has openly stoked fear of immigrants and Muslimsโso, people like Hafez.
sponsored by
Confronted with that sort of hostility, most of us would react in kind. Not Hafez. โThe easier instinct is to get angry,โ he says. โBut it takes compassion to understand and deal with people. Thatโs my journey
Yet he is not without fear, for himself and his family. Given the current climate, he worries that the fruits of the 13 years heโs spent building a life hereโfinishing his education, becoming an architect, buying a home where he lives with his wife and parentsโcould be taken away. โWhatโs going to happen? Are we going to be deported? Will we have to register because of our religion?โ Being a Muslim immigrant from the Middle East, he feels he must be very careful to avoid directly criticizing politicians in either of his homelands. โI come from a country where you would lose your life and your family would be imprisoned and tortured if you attacked any politician in power,โ he says. Now, even in America, part of him thinks, โIf youโre a minority, you canโt afford to talk politics anymore.โ
sponsored by
But that hasnโt stopped Hafez from speaking through his art, where his voice has only become stronger and, in some cases, more blunt. In His Majestyโs Throne, one of his largest and most intricate sculptures, pipes like tentacles descend from a palatial bathroom, evacuating metaphorical feces onto the leaderโs subjects, who are represented by a massive jumble of modest homes. The leader himself is represented in a gilded portrait, containing a mashup of features pulled from infamous authoritarians.
Meanwhile, Hafezโs โBaggageโ series, incorporating suitcases as vessels for various scenes, has evolved into some of his most evocative work. A pervasive sense of uprootednessโof essentially having to live out of a suitcaseโis familiar to immigrants, Hafez notes, and the specter of upheaval created by this past electionโs rhetoric is bringing that feeling back, even among those who are well-established. โ
Although his art is inspired by immigrant and refugee experiences, Hafez believes the notions heโs exploring transcend any particular point of view. โAll of us have baggage,โ he says, evincing that compassion he mentioned earlier, with the hope that the rest of us can respond in kind.
Mohamad Hafez
West River Arts โ 909 Whalley Ave, New Haven (map)
mhafez100@gmail.com
www.mohamadhafez.com
Written and photographed by Dan Mims.