This is Egypt, Abla — a play on a very famous line of dialogue from an espionage Egyptian film — is the title of artist Mohamed Abla’s autobiography, published by Dar El-Sherouk in September 2024. His debut literary contribution, the 250-page book with an inset of colour reproductions of Abla’s early paintings and black and white of prominent figures such as Said Al-Adawi and Khodier Al-Borsaidi as well as their works throughout, deals with the 72-year-old artist’s youth. In 30 short chapters, it chronicles his years at the Faculty of Fine Arts in Alexandria and the unique cultural and political atmosphere of the 1970s.
Written in a simple, even naive way, the book is full of humorous anecdotes and human stories from the artist’s life in Alexandria, Cairo and his hometown in Belqas, where he was born in 1953, near Mansoura. The significance of the book lies in its unique perspective on political and social life in Egypt during the 1970s, and its writing evidences a high standard of proficiency despite it being the author’s first book.
“I started writing the book just two years ago through a series of posts on my Facebook page, which gained a very warm welcome and feedback from different countries, including the US, Switzerland and Australia. The series was followed by a short article in Amkena magazine, which focused on my years of study in Alexandria,” Abla told me at his studio in Zamalek. “And then I felt the desire to tell stories about myself as a young artist and the people I met during that period. I liked the idea of telling stories everyday to an unseen audience. After a while, I got an offer from El-Sherouk to publish the memoirs. They asked me to turn the writing from colloquial to classic Arabic. So I resorted to my friend the established poet Gamal Al-Qassas to help me.”
In his own life Abla, the experimental visual artist who enjoys huge popularity, likes to tell stories and listen to people telling stories. He is also a good reader: books are an essential component of his life. He can finish up to three books in a week. His readings range over a wide spectrum, which has clearly helped master his unique style.
“I consider reading one of the necessary resources for any artist,” he commented. “My message to give an example to young artists of how big names have struggled during their lives. I also believe that every writer should have a target. Mine is for the reader to reach a certain level of enjoyment, a sensual and intellectual enjoyment. I actually enjoyed being a storyteller.”
The artist’s strong memory, enabling him to remember the details of events that took place some 50 years ago, is remarkable. “Yes, I have a good memory, though a few marginal characters have fake names,” he noted. Throughout the book, as he tells his stories, he hides his own experience. The reader never knows to which political orientation he subscribed to. “I was keen on telling the stories as if I were in my twenties. And, at the time, I didn’t actually have solid opinions on political or even cultural issues. I was a good listener and at one point, for example, keen to follow and attend meetings of al Gamaa al Islamiya, just to understand the truth.”
This was dealt with in a chapter titled “Searching for Paradise”. In a few lines, Abla covers his experience with members of the group who were also his colleagues at Alexandria University. “It was a brief experience, I used to attend their meetings and lessons at the mosque, but I realised very soon that I didn’t belong with them and I withdrew completely from every activity of theirs. But it was good experience.”
To what extent might the young, naive, frequently astonished figure in the book be still alive? “To a large extent,” he smiles. “I am still that naive young man, just with a developed perspective on life. I have indulged in some political events, but I am not active politically. The only thing I can do well is art.”
Another interesting chapter is “Degla 76”, which concerns the artist’s journey to Iraq in 1976 during the summer vacation, while he was still a student. “It was one of my amazing art and life experiences. Before that journey I studied calligraphy at the faculty and fell in love with the versatile Arabic letters. At the time, I had to work to make money to study and live in Alexandria. Captivated by a huge book called Badae’a Al Khat Al-Araby, by the Iraqi author Nagui Zain Al-Din, I went to Iraq to work so I could buy it. I loved my life there to the extent that I didn’t want to come back to Alexandria. It was there that my passion for calligraphy grew stronger.”
In “Luxor, Our Country”, Abla depicts his first visit to the historical city — for his graduation project. The ancient Egyptian sculptures and paintings he saw live for the first time were a shock that made him stop painting for a short period, before he was finally inspired by the life of Luxor fishermen and their boats in the Nile. The chapter depicts the artist’s adventure travelling back from Luxor to Cairo in a boat just to take authentic sketches of the fishermen’s life in the clear waters of the Nile. “The amazing ancient sculptures have been haunting me to this day. I wondered at the time, what can any artist add to such perfection? And then I realized that distortion of figures is the ideal style I should adopt as it reflects the artist’s actual personality and the environment he lives in. I therefore respect and admire mistakes in paintings,” he affirmed.
Did Abla practice any form of self-censorship while writing the book? “Yes, anything related to romantic relationships,” he smiles. “Actually, my relationships were not serious in that period of my life. Committing to a relationship requires money, and I had been penniless,” he explained. “Life is hard enough, if you take it too seriously you won’t enjoy it. One should face life with a great deal of lightness and humor.” In one chapter, Abla recalls a suicide attempt by one of his colleagues, a young poet, whom he managed to save at the last minute.
In “The Debut Exhibition”, he says his paintings are embodiments of his stories about people. In another funny chapter, “The Postman”, he tells the story of the postman Fathy, whom he once met while visiting his village in Belqas. Fathy used to open the letters’ envelops and read the letters before sending them to their recipients. “He used to do that for good reasons. For example, if he discovered a husband’s betrayal, he would warn the deceived wife, or send some money to someone in need. That postman was a very good reader and had plenty of charisma. In general my figurative art is rich with people, who in their turn are rich with ideas. People are ideas in motion.”
After finishing military service in Cairo, the first painting he made in his studio was titled Fear of the City. “It reflected my fear of failure and my concerns about living in a huge and merciless city like Cairo at a time when my financial resources were very limited,” he noted. Abla painted the city from a different perspective, illustrating the popular neighborhood of Al-Gamaliya in Islamic Cairo, where he used to live. Influenced by Naguib Mahfouz’s novels, set in the same area, Abla found it joyful to paint the neighborhood’s alleys, its public bathhouses and unique residents. “
A chapter titled “An Ideal Fridge” is dedicated to the artist’s mother, a simple but intelligent woman who encouraged him to pursue his dream to be an artist despite his father’s refusal. He describes Cairo as the “bright jewel”, expressing his love for the city in a way one might speak of one’s dear mother: “Cairo is the first city that witnessed my success as an artist. It is where I first made strong friendships and lived true experiences,” he said. “When I published this book I didn’t expect this warm welcome from readers, but I’m astonished by the cold and mute response of visual artists,” Abla said in a sad tone.
The last chapter features a scene depicting the artist in the aeroplane on his way to Spain to earn his masters on a scholarship offered by the Spanish Culture Centre in Cairo in 1978. The journey extended for seven years, during which the artist worked, lived and studied in a number of European countries. “As I was preparing to travel to Europe, I felt homesick. I loved Cairo a lot and considered it a part of my soul. And I’d thought I would become the Naguib Mahfouz of art,” he smiles.
Abla is currently working on the second part of the book, which will cover the years he spent in Europe, namely Spain, Germany, Switzerland and Austria. “It is full of humorous tales as well. The suggested title for the new book, which will be published by the end of this year, is Plaza Mayor, the name of the central square in Madrid,” the artist disclosed. “The square is uniquely significant to me as I used to draw sketches beside one of its famous pillars. This was the only way to make a living then. Writing is a responsibility. I believe the word spreads faster than the image and
you never know the identity of your reader or his background.For the second part, I started with a definite plan in mind and in a different spirit. I am no longer that naive young man,” he winks. “Now, can I make you a cup of coffee?”
* A version of this article appears in print in the 30 January, 2025 edition of Al-Ahram Weekly
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