Saturday, November 29, 2008

Revolutionary Art Galleries

Several days have gone by and I regret not writing. Here I sit in Roberto's crib as I await my ride back to university. Thinking about what to write, I am seriously awed by the revolutionary art work that is up on the walls around me. What I really like about this trendy artwork is that it has a story behind it. It reminds me of Banksy's artwork, which advocates against violence and injustice. What I also really like how it is quite satirical of society. Its a mix of revolutionary communist propaganda. What's also really amazing about this stuff is that much of it has an oriental twist to it. Check the artwork at The Giant and Obey's website.

This is obviously very underground art work, but what's interesting is that this communist style propaganda is that it came back during this presidential election. Some might take it as a scary cult like Obama propaganda that emulates the kind of propaganda of Maoism, but its actually really influential artwork that depicts Obama as a visionary, idealist, and whatnot... Anyways, below is a photo I took at the Obama Campaign Office downtown. Even though the election is over, it still hangs high.

Tuesday, November 25, 2008

Egypt in a Microcosm: Wust El Balad

My previous post inspired me to include one last post for the day. This is about the underground band that I previously mention. They give a new meaning to music in Egypt, one that truly reflects Egypt's clamorous and chaotic environment that I so dearly love. They are truly revolutionary when it comes to giving Egypt a new beat that it can dance to. They are artsy, original, and sophisticated. What I love most about their music video is that it takes place in the heart of Cairo, Wust El Balad. Scenes of Midan Tahrir and Masr El-Gedida remind of when I would stroll around aimlessly with Amr and Mark in the heat of Egypt's sun. Oh how I miss it all!

This music video is such a relief from the all-the-same-sounding arabic pop music that is so detached from reality and filmed abroad with foreign girls that doesn't represent Egypt at all. This music video talks of everyone in Egypt, from the garbage collector to the intellectual. This is the true Egypt and reminds me of Naguib Mahfouz's Midaq Alley, which is truly representative of Egypt in a nutshell.

Enjoy the true heart beat of Egypt through Wust El Balad's music!

Guevara Graces Egypt With Her Presence

Never would I have imagined that the legacy of Che Guevara would survive with such flare to this day, and especially in my homeland. Approximately one week ago, Alieda Guevara, the oldest of Che Guevara's daughters and revolutionary internationalist was received with much rave in Egypt. This wide media coverage is unprecedented for a Latin American.

What was the hype all about? Well, as trivial as this might seem, it was a mere expression of gratitude from the Egyptian masses to the legacy that Che had left to all those struggling in the Third World. Alieda follows in the footsteps of her father, who would frequently convene with Egypt's foremost revolutionary, Nasser, to conspire against imperialism. The fraternal relationship between these two revolutionaries still defines Egypt's unique reverence for Cuba's revolutionary struggle against imperialism that Che's legacy spearheads to this day. Egypt had been a revolutionary hub at the time, and its importance is marked by Che's visit to Cairo the same year as the triumph of the Cuban revolution.Alieda's visit to Egypt ends today, but her visit means something special to me. It was her words that I first laid my eyes upon when first discovering who this Che Guevara was. Curious, I purchased a copy of The Motorcycle Diaries on my way to China, knowing that my father was is also an admirer of Che. The first words I read about Che Guevara came from her pen. During my read of the preface of The Motorcycle Diaries, I was mesmerized by how she had shed light on the exemplary model Che had set for revolutionaries out there.

Although I may be a lone star in my reverence of Che, at least I know that back home I can share this revolutionary frevor with others of my generation. Che is still widely celebrated today in Egypt. The above video is one of my favorite Egyptian bands called Wust El-Balad, which means downtown or middle of the country because they are in touch with the social conditions of Egypt's masses. They are especially talented because they improvise all of their music. They usually perform in Sa2yet El Sawi, which is this really neat concert venue under a bridge in the heart of Cairo. I have been to this venue twice before, but have never had the opportunity to enjoy Wust El-Balad live. Above is honestly one of my favorite tunes; its a upbeat elegy to Che Guevara and how his legendary spirit continues to inspire.

Its always pleasures me to have an event occur that shows me that the solidarity of between the struggling people of the Middle East and Latin America and how Che Guevara's mere image is what could keep that fire burning.

مزاج رومانسي

اليلة، شهدت فلم يوم من عمري بسبب عدم النوم.
شعرت بالحنين لايام مصر عندما كنت دامان اشاهد افلام ابيد و اسود في منزل جدتي.
علاوة علي ذلك ، اغاني عبد الحليم تذكرني بايام مصر الرومانسية الفتتني و لكن هذه الافلام تعيشني فزمن عميق اعشر ان ولدت في و لكني مرحل في زمن اخر.
احب مشاهدة هذة الافلام قبل النوم لاني داما اريد ان احلم عن هذة الايام و اهرب من الواقع. الان انا نعسان و النوم و امزاج الرومانسي احتلني.
ساوداعق الان.
و لكن ساتركك بصوت عبد الحلويم الجمعيل


Solace

Another sleepless night.
Despite a weary body, the mind remains racy.
Antsy, it is struck with raging frenzy.
Why?

Poe's poetry from the bookshelf remedies the unease.
Seeking inspiration, I flip to Spirits of the Dead.
Ironically, the despondency comforts me.
I'm not a loner in my emotions.

The chilly breeze refreshes my senses, sharpens them,
As I commence reflection upon the befallen misfortune
That only my brother can relate to.
I shall not divulge into matters whose sole guardian is the heart.

But let this be a stark reminder that in times of solitude,
Your soul shall not be alone if you can fill the void with another.
Silence is gold. Embrace it in solitude.
Revive his spirit. Embrace his presence.

The fire of my restless subsides
As melancholy yields to the bliss of memories.
Hitherto, melancholy has intensely clung itself to me.
As I console thee, solace trickles into my heart.

Images of Prince in fields of gold.
Divine winds ventilate the heavens.
Radiant as ever is your soul.
Grandeur, loyalty, and valor define your posture.

I am a mere emissary of light.
My sole vocation is to provide you with consolation.
Yet, the key to true serenity is in thou heart.
Cease looking for him. He is in your heart all along.




Monday, November 24, 2008

Dreaming of Istanbul

Just about to head to bed, I couldn't help but write one last entry for the day. The entry isn't about the day, but what I am to expect as I drift away in my sleep. Lately, I've been dreaming a lot more about Istanbul and the only symptom that I could attribute to this tendency is nostalgia. Every night before I go to sleep, I stare for a couple of minutes at the collage of vintage postcards of Istanbul I have on my wall before my eye lids become heavy and I doze off. What's truly bewildering though is that I dream of passages from my Istanbul diaries, where the words jump out and replay the memories that enriched my memories of Istanbul. What's more, I hear them calling out to me to return to the jewel of the Ottoman Empire. Nowadays, I seldom write in my diary because my days are monotonous, but in my dreams, I hear the words of my diary whine like little children needing attention. They call for me to finish writing their story, or rather my complete my Istanbul memories. They miss the days when I would frantically strive to record every valuable memory so that it wouldn't slip away. More than ever, I have been revisiting a short entry that I wrote during my last night in Istanbul:

"Never have I been so enchanted, so hypnotized by a city's charm before..."

Actually, I realize that I am unable to continue... There are some memories of Istanbul that are too sacred to and too personal to expose. Maybe I'll have the opportunity to disclose them when I reunite with my beloved city...
Goodnight.

Saturday, November 22, 2008

Goethe & Impressions

Today's discourse divulges a truly interesting notion, regarding human nature, that hit me as I was reading Goethe's Faust, his magnum opus and an essential cornerstone of the Western Cannon. My true motif behind reading the drama was what I'd call my "homework" for today's viewing of La Damnation de Faust that I attended today with Tim.

I initially picked up Goethe's works not because he is dubbed as one of the last true romanticist renaissance men to walk this planet, but because of his profound insight into human nature and reading Faust truly changed my perspective of how the human mind works. As a polymath, Goethe mastered the dynamism of how the mind can shift from style to another with absolute fluidity. His different works each display a unique literary style and he was quoted for saying, "only those who continue to change remain my kin."

To make a long story short, the point Goethe truly bestowed me with subsequent to reading part of Faust was that ideas are mere embodiments of things that are abstract, and thus must be represented in some form of idea or model. In representing human nature through Faust, Goethe transcends that realm of mere idea and though by writing of impressions. Impressions are what I consider to be supernaturally inspired emotions or feelings. The nature of such emotions is that they may be sensual, romantic, daunting, and any other avenue that explores the multifaceted dimensions of human nature. What is the source of these impressions you may ask; well, they may range from being a spark of genius to mere creativity or imagination. Unlike dry ideas and models of the sciences, these impressions are intangible, timeless, and priceless. Unlike ideas that may be transfered from person to person through education and can be effectively mastered, impressions are bestowed upon poets, artists, and the like in the form of visions to produce via their works. These works bring these impressions to life by allowing others, i.e. me and you, to receive and feel these impressions even though we may not have the capacity to express them personally.

What I truly loved about Goethe's work though was that hi provided the reader (i.e. the recepient of these impressions) the freedom and flexibility to interpret and experience these impressions by his own freewill. Unlike what we were taught in IB World Literature that almost every work had certain motifs and messages that the writer aimed to get across, Goethe is flexible when stating, "The more incommensurable and incomprehensible for the understanding of poetic creation may be, the better." Experience it as you will is the essence of his message. Actually, Goethe even went as far as explicitly declaring that his drama is not a tool to get a specific message across.

Everyone seems caught up nowadays in trying to identify with an ideology, religion, culture, idea, etc...but what I have discovered is that this reveals insecurity, uncertainty, and complication. Why don't we submit to our impressions and not have someone preach to us what model we should emulate? I feel that it is through Goethe's works that one can truly be discover the impressions that allow humans to be moved, inspired, and elevated to something that cannot be expressed in some fixed, bounded model or ideology. To an extent, Goethe's works remind me of Sufism and the works of Rumi. Impressions allow one to transcend the mundane. For all you know these impressions may be greater than Einstein's theory of relativity because they explore something that is almost divine. Goethe's saying is a case in point: "Do not always think that everything is in vain if it is not some abstract thought or idea!"

The point I am getting at is that in our modern society, one is pressured to conform to a certain philosophy and to embrace it wholeheartedly. Radicalism is encouraged; moderation is looked upon as weak. I believe that the most important lesson I have taken away from Goethe is that no single ideology can be serve humanity from A to Z. Similar to the Gestalt theory in psychology, although several perspectives (i.e. schools of thought) exist in psychology, the human being is a holistic creature where the dualism of the mind and body merge into one. Similarly, in the realms of politics, religion, and culture, the human nature cannot be reduced to a set of boundless principles and concepts that one has to embrace totally. Hence, when one enters the world of literature, nothing is fixed and all is eternal. In this world, the vagueness and irrationality of the human mind and nature is embraced, where impressions flourish because of the different interpretations that occur during the transmission of an emotion from the writer to the reader. Every interpretation is neither right nor wrong, except that the impression that one takes away, if truly felt is never wrong. Holistically, the culminations of different interpretations from a piece of literature is what defines the writer's philosophy. To extrapolate this notion to a larger scale (i.e. the real world), one realizes that no one way of life is the right way, but a culmination of different elements, from different disciplines, is the only way to essential to strike a certain harmonious balance. The same principle applies to politics, economics, psychology, religion, and culture to name a few.
Now that I've bored you enough with my dry philosophical discourse, I shall recap my outing to the Paramount Theater this Sunday morning. After speeding through a copy of Faust I'd bought a couple of weeks ago from Blue Whale used book store, I had been anticipating the Metropolitan Opera performance of Faust in the Paramount Theater. Tim, who also takes a fancy for classicism, decided to join me for the viewing of Faust. I think many other viewers we also hyped about the screening of the opera show considering that the box office was pretty packed today. Apparently the opera itself didn't use Goethe's version of Faust, but that of Hector Berlioz, but all the same, the storyline and motifs were very similar. The only difference was the poetry and drama. I won't disclose too much regarding the storyline of Faust simply because I wouldn't dare ruin it for prospective viewers and I am sure that my synopsis would not do justice to Berlioz's masterpiece. Essentially, the moral of the drama questions the morality of human nature and whether it exists at all? If yes, is it sensible? In a word, the play reveals the chasm between good and evil that has plagued the human mind since the dawn of creation. Obviously these issues and questions and issues cannot be sufficiently be answered in a blog entry, but the only way to stop these philosophical questions from circulating in my mind was to spill my thoughts into words.

While at the theater, I was awed by the grandeur of its ambiance and design. It fell just short of comparing to the magnificent Ottoman palaces of Istanbul, but I snapped a couple of shots to share:



The theater was of course a replication of some grandiose theater in Rome, but I am glad that I have access to something that can satisfy my intellectual cravings. I look forward to the next showing of course, but I don't think that anything can compare to today's show!