Finding freedom in the Lebanese mountain

BEITEDDINE: In the Ottoman-era palace of this Chouf village, a locked, windowless room contains a treasure trove of artefact and story rolled into one. The trove is comprised of the works in Days of Freedom, an exhibition of recent work by Samir Sayegh, arguably Lebanons best-known calligrapher.

Though it is kept under lock and key, this is one exhibition that is worth expending a little effort to see and a courteous caretaker makes access easy enough to obtain.

Absent from this show are Sayeghs immediately recognizable geometric designs, with their rich colors and delicately applied gold leaf. In their place is a series of sketchy, frenetic paintings, which reveal both the extent of Sayeghs creativity and precision.

Curated by Agial Gallery founder Saleh Barakat, Days of Freedom is described as a diary, a tribute to the events of the Arab Spring in the form of a series of renditions of the word freedom (hurriya), executed in a bewildering variety of colors, shapes, sizes and styles.

Like the uprisings which sparked in a half dozen or so countries in the Middle East and North Africa last year these pieces exude a spontaneous, almost experimental quality, as if Sayegh were asking Can I really do this? And what will happen if I try?

To create the deceptively simple, often unfinished-looking, renderings of the single word, the artist uses a brush an unusual tool in Arabic calligraphy, which traditional lore has it is formed with a dried reed or bamboo dipping pen.

The thin, sketchy look of the ink in many of the lines betrays the speed with which Sayegh creates his forms astounding when you consider the infallible straightness of his lines, his unerring repetition of the same curve, time after time.

Sayeghs precision may be born of many years of hard work, but this does not diminish its impact. His work is a unique blend of control and freedom, premeditation and spontaneity.

In contrast with the dimly lit stone room, with its antique vaulted ceilings, the swirling letters seem almost ephemeral a series of fleeting moments and emotions captured like a pinioned butterfly on paper.

Each ink-on-paper work is unframed, instead sandwiched between two sheets of Plexiglas, giving the exhibition a scrapbook-like aspect. The works range from large sheets of paper covered with tiny sketches simple studies in preparation for larger paintings to colorful series of overlapping words, so layered in some cases that they become chaotic and nearly illegible. Only a handful of the works appear to be finished pieces, thicker, more deliberate-looking lines contrasted with a sketchier background.

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Finding freedom in the Lebanese mountain