A short comic I wrote for Warscapes centering around the experiences of refugees and trains last summer in Europe. Check out the rest of the piece here.
NASA
TVSTRANGERTHINGS

Janaina Medeiros

izzy's playlists!
occasionally subtle

pixel skylines

Kiana Khansmith
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ

blake kathryn
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
Show & Tell

Kaledo Art
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
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ojovivo
sheepfilms
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda

ellievsbear
Stranger Things

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
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@mishkida
A short comic I wrote for Warscapes centering around the experiences of refugees and trains last summer in Europe. Check out the rest of the piece here.
Apropos of The New Yorker article below, a doodle of the iconic dandy I did a while ago.
In a handwritten newspaper laced with biting cartoons, James Sanua galvanized late-nineteenth-century Egyptians against the political ills of their day.
Saroukhan’s Political Circus
What is so remarkable about the artist Alexander Saroukhan (1898-1977) is his versatility. A half-century later, his vast portfolio continues to impress.
Saroukhan drew hundreds of magazine covers, paintings, sketches, cartoons, and caricatures. He poked fun at politics, of course, but also the tenants of fine art, the intricacies of governance and international policy, the boundaries of class, and much more. Among his inventions: Al-Masri Effendi, Egypt’s everyman, the archetype of the average joe who has been adopted and adapted by nearly every cartoonist since.
Each of the illustrations above feature whole worlds of politics, filled with casts of significant characters, fodder for students of modern Egyptian history and eye-candy for art critics and casual observers alike.
Saroukhan by Saroukhan, 1976. For a biography of the cartoonist, see this piece in Community Times.
***
On Sunday, Cairo’s Al-Masar Gallery’s Art Lounge will host an exhibition of Saroukhan’s works entitled “The Political Comedy.”
Like a black comedy, however, scandal clouds Al-Masar: Egyptian painter and cartoonist George Bahgoury has accused gallery owner Waleed Abdulkhalek of larceny, a charge that the gallery fervently denies.
When I interviewed Abdulkhalek last year, he told me, “Caricature is like the flash of the camera, the snapshot of time, of this moment. But when you jump into art, Jonathan, you have jumped into the ocean. It is not a lake anymore.”
Trying out Speedball India ink and nibs, totally different experience but loads of fun.
Three Egyptian Retellings of the Denshawai Incident
Egyptian artists have consistently returned to the Denshawai Incident of 1906, when British officers hunted domesticated pigeons for sport and then hanged residents accused of fighting back. This paper examines three of these retellings, focusing in particular on Makhlouf's comic strip "Hat al-Hamam" published in the alternative comics magazine Tok Tok in November, 2012.
Tintin at Horreya Cafe in downtown Cairo
This is an incredible looking exhibition and best of all (for those of us who live neither in Cairo nor Chicago), you can download the beautiful 200 page program here.
I’m currently working on a project comparing three Egyptian retellings of the Denshawai Incident: the song above by Mohamed Mounir, the poem “The Hanging of Zahran” by Salah Abdel Sabour, and a wonderful comic by Makhlouf in the Egyptian comic magazine Tok Tok.
My go at translating the lyrics:
بين المخاض والألم
من تانى بنتولد
بين المخاض والألم
الماضى بيتولد
والحكمة بتتولد
والغنوة بتتولد
كل اللى عدى وراح
لسة فى عنيكى بيتولد
يا دنشواى يا ناي حزين
لكنه مش نساي
ع المشنقة ولدى
ع المشنقة كبدى
كل اللى عدى وراح
لسة فى عنيكى بيتولد
Among birth pangs and suffering,
We are born again.
Among birth pangs and suffering,
The past is born;
Wisdom is born;
Music is born;
All that came and went
Is still being born in your eyes.
Oh Danshawi, Oh sad flute.
But we don't forget,
At the gallows, my son.
At the gallows, my pain.
All that came and went
Is still being born in your eyes.
A possible cover for this memoir comic I am pretending to make about my time in Cairo. That’s the very picturesque Midan Talaat Harb there in the corner.
This past Thursday at Brown University we held a half-day Arab Comics symposium as a component of the exhibit I co-curated. I’m really proud of how it turned out; the conversations we had in this academic setting are extensions of ideas I’ve been grappling with for the last four years in my improbable side career as “Arab Comics Scholar.” Brown recorded (really, more directed) all four hours of the proceedings and put it online. I’ve been humbled by the online response so far. If you’re interested at all please watch and share.
Everyone brought amazing work to the table. Here is the full list of speakers and sections including time in the recording:
08:00 | Bashara Doumani | Welcome 15:00 | Mona Damluji | Introductory Remarks
Comics Histories Panel 26:00 | Michael Allan | Drawing Lines in The Sand: Comics and Caricature Beyond East/West 48:30 | Nadim Damluji (that’s me) | Translation as Trojan Horse / Translation as Conversation 1:16:00 | Lina Ghaibeh | Propaganda in Comics in the Arab World: From Nationalism to Religious Fundamentalism 1:48:00 | Elias Muhanna’s Response and Q+A
Comics Practices Panel 2:41:00 | Fouad Mezher | Educated Between Panels 2:58:00 | Fdz Bx | Violence as Language: The Inarticulate Medium of Comics 3:26:00 | Anna Mudd’s Response and Q+A
Samir | Issue 336 and 340 | September 12, 1962 and October 14, 1962
“Cairo Past Futures,” on the city and the press
(click images to see full size)
“Cairo Past Futures” is an exhibition held at Kafein, a café in downtown Cairo, from 21 December until 31 January. The exhibition is a fundraiser for the production and printing of two issues of Cairobserver, an independent DIY magazine on architecture and urbanism in Egypt, with a focus on Cairo.
The exhibition includes twenty-four photographs, each combined with a headline extracted from the Egyptian press of the 1950s and 60s. Headlines such as “This is Tomorrow’s Cairo” and “Urban Planning in the Era of Revolution” are superimposed on images of contemporary Cairo depicting speculative informal housing properties on the edge of Giza and dilapidated social housing blocks in Bulaq. These two-layer montages combining text and image put to the test past promises about the city’s future pronounced in state-censored magazines and newspapers during the Nasser regime. When it comes to matters related to urban development and municipal affairs the press during the Nasser years performed the palliative task of creating false hope for a better urban future. While the regime undertook many significant development projects it failed to create economically and socially sustainable urban development and to establish effective municipal management systems. Today, not unlike the 1960s, the Egyptian press is saturated with uncritical pronouncements of large-scale development projects such as the building of one million affordable housing units. The postcard-like images of “Cairo Past Futures” present a double critique: on the one hand the images critique the contemporary condition of Cairo by way of appropriating the headlines from a previous era of revolution. On the other hand the images also provoke debate about the heroic language of the press in revolutionary times, namely its continued promotion of regime promises for a better urban future that rarely materialize.
After the 1952 coup d’état in Egypt, the new military regime sought to establish revolutionary legitimacy by implementing political and economic reforms and by expanding the state’s role in building and development. Large-scale projects such as the High Dam were promoted in the press along side state-built modern housing, new infrastructure and services. Planning in the age of revolution was promised to achieve social justice, one of the stated goals of the revolution as defined by the Free Officers. In the meantime the Egyptian press was a platform for the mediation of architectural visions drawn up by architects and bureaucrats seeking state patronage. Daily newspapers and weekly magazines were vehicles for the circulation and dissemination of political, cultural, and architectural ideas necessary in the process of shaping the built environment.
Members of the Free Officers, namely Gamal Abdel Nasser and Abdellatif al-Baghdady, claimed the optimistic endeavor of building architecture as a metaphor for nation building. In 1953 the well-established and widely read al-Musawwar magazine quoted Nasser saying, “Let us join hands and build.” The statement was made when members of the Free Officers attended the inauguration of a small self-funded community center in the Cairo neighborhood of Gammaliya. Attending such events was one way for the officers to introduce themselves to local communities in their efforts to build a popular base.
In the August 1963 issue of Binaʾ al-Watan (Building the Nation), which ran from 1958 to 1966, a column written by al-Baghdady was titled “Planning in the era of revolution.” In it he writes, “Since the revolution of 23 July 1952 Arab society has undergone immense transformations in all aspects of life,” he then adds, “In order to achieve the goals of the revolution it was necessary to plan the necessary steps including planning our economy, planning our society, internal politics and external affairs.” The public discourse around state planning proliferated in the 1960s as Egypt adopted the soviet 5-year economic plan and as the state sponsored large-scale urban planning visions such as Nasr City northeast of central Cairo.
Decades later after the initial euphoric days of the January 2011 revolt, government officials and military officers often used the phrase “Let us build Egypt.” Such statements about building and planning fail to articulate fundamental details such as: Build what? Build for whom and by whom? Build according to what plans and designs?
In order to expose the fallacy of slogans such as “Planning in the era of revolution” and “Let us join hands and build” I have placed them directly in confrontation with some of the government’s contemporary building interventions in Cairo. For example, in “Cairo Past Futures” Gamal Abdel Nasser’s quote from al-Musawwar in 1953, “Let us join hands and build,” is superimposed on an image of the concrete separation wall recently built around the pyramids of Giza to keep out the residents of Nazlet al-Simman who have been in the area for generations. In another example, Abdellatif al-Baghdady’s 1963 proclamation for “planning in the era of revolution” is superimposed on the concrete wall blocking Falaki Street in downtown Cairo since 2012 to protect the Interior Ministry. Thus, the images in “Cairo Past Futures” subvert the headlines and slogans produced during Egypt’s previous era of revolution in order to criticize the present condition of the city following the recent revolutionary struggle.
Visit “Cairo Past Futures” at Kafein located in downtown Cairo at 28 Sharif Street (in the pedestrian alley). Proceeds from the exhibition go towards funding the printing of new Cairobserver issues in 2015. In addition, there is a crowd funding campaign continuing until 2 January to support the production of the Cairobserver magazines.
Contribute to Cairobserver's fundraiser here: https://www.indiegogo.com/projects/2-new-print-issues-of-cairobserver-in-2015
Based on photo by Chester Duggan. Downtown Cairo.
Alas, another self-portrait as this year comes to an end. This one is set in the apartment I lived in in Bab al-Louq, Cairo.
Merry Christmas from Samir | Issue 193 | December 20, 1959