Smoke-screens

Basil AlZeri
“Smoke-screens”
Oil pigment, charcoal, and archival inks on paper
318 x 338
2024

Humans, names, body parts, numbers, unidentified bodies, miscellaneous body bags, rubble, ruins, tunnels, mass graves, human remains, animals, plant seeds, stones, and soil.
Since the assault on Gaza began, I have been living through the constant barrage of images and videos on our screens: unending death, and persistent violence. Initially, there was outrage, but over time, the sight of death became normalized, and we ‘bystanders’ became numb, reduced to living vessels devoid of true life.

When I began my residency at MMAG in March 2024, the conflict had been raging for about five months. Despite my efforts to maintain a semblance of normalcy in life and work, my focus was consumed by the bombings, the devastation, the smoke, the death, and the body parts strewn across the landscape. Through the screen, "smoke screens" of operations unfolded before my eyes and transmitted into my reality. I struggled to grasp the enormity of the moment, to fathom the emotional weight of the destruction. I attempted to slow down and re-examine the shattered lives, but I reached a point where I could no longer bear the weight of witnessing people emerging from the rubble, at times carrying their loved ones in one piece, other times in fragments. I could no longer just be…

The destruction is immense, the smoke pervasive—death is everywhere. Yet, despite this relentless carnage, there remains a sense of resilience, and amidst the chaos, suffering, and loss every statement ends with "al-hamdulillah".

Another bomb falls, in the next moment, and the next, and the hour after, the day after, the week after, the month after, and the life that will continue in the after—-
This work conveys the emotional impact of the ongoing conflict and my personal experience of it, highlighting the relentless nature of violence and the difficulty of processing such trauma.