08 November 2005
BEIRUT: The novelist Joseph Conrad once said that, "a caricature is putting the face of a joke on the body of a truth." Caricaturists may use exaggeration and comic distortion, but the effect of their fun-house mirror is to reflect egregious political realities and harsh social injustices in such a way that engages viewers with humor instead of despair. Caricature reminds people to laugh at the tragedies of everyday life.
Perhaps not coincidentally given the current political climate, three exhibitions on view in Beirut now rely heavily on innovative use of caricature.
Timed to a solo museum show at the Centre Pompidou in Paris, "Antonio Segui a Beyrouth," at Galerie Janine Rubeiz in Raouche, features about 20 recent paintings by the Argentinean master, including a lithograph of Beirut he made in 1995, the last time he came to Lebanon for an exhibition. Segui, who was born in 1934 in Cordoba and has lived outside Paris since 1963, has established an instantly recognizable, energetic style over the past five decades of artistic production. He covers his canvases with repeated characters - an upright man in a suit and tie topped with a fedora, a nude woman stricken in profile - and repeated structures - a building, an airplane. Segui's figures move frantically this way and that, as if they are running to and from appointments, desperate to keep up with the pace of modern urban life.
Caricature has long been a central component of Latin American art and as one curator remarked, Segui's use of it achieves "a symbiosis of lightheartedness and seriousness, laughter and criticism."
"I am most interested in cartoons," he once said. "I believe it to be one of the most direct languages."
Segui's take on city life springs entirely from his imagination - in his compositions, men are often taller than buildings and bigger than airplanes. But his rhythms ring intensely true to the experience of coursing through metropolitan centers. One can sense in the way his figures move a few traces of Argentina's political past, the hint of military boots clapping on pavement and the revulsions and chaos of revolutionary coups. Segui's canvases also capture the mad pace of development and developing societies, which gave his work on Beirut in such canvases as "Manana de Recontruccion" such power.
In addition to his work as an experimental musician, Beirut-based artist Mazen Kerbaj has been making cartoons and comics for years. He has produced a strong collection of artists' books (including a poignant homage to slain journalist Samir Kassir) and he is now showing a kind of mini retrospective of his efforts at the gallery Espace SD in Gemmayzeh. Titled "Gens de Beyrouth," the exhibition features paintings on canvas, cardboard, and brown paper bags, along with large panels of comic strips and glass cases full of his books and works on paper.
Like Segui, Kerbaj has an established style and a droll sense of humor. In a series of 11 works titled "Vie conjugale," he exaggerates the ills and annoyances of relationships among men and women. And just as Segui has a trademark character named Gustavo, Kerbaj has a few signature figures, perhaps the most trenchant of which is a cartoon with an exclamation point for a face. In a show named after the people of Beirut, this funny expression of shock perfectly expresses the response of Kerbaj's generation to politics in Lebanon, the region, and the world, an expression of near constant surprise tinged with fear as well as cynicism.
The humor in some of Kerbaj's work is a bit immature, and in general the four works hung toward the back left of the gallery could have been cut from the show. But when Kerbaj is on, as he is with the hilarious piece entitled "La vie inter-communitaire," his work melds incisive observation with biting sarcasm.
Isis Nassar, whose paintings and sculptures are on view at the French Cultural Center in Achrafieh, piles her canvases with texture. She has a penchant for rendering the quality of man's skin or the pattern on a women's blouse with expressive brushstrokes. Her figures are cartoonish in that they are distorted and exaggerated. But where Nassar differs from Segui and Kerbaj is in her complete lack of humor.
Nassar held a similar exhibition at the Cervantes Institute in Beirut just a year ago. But where that show highlighted her work in South and Central America, this show focuses on the works she produced in Lebanon and about Lebanon shortly after the war. There are ample compositions capturing bombed out buildings populated by squatters and refugees. The Amal insignia is sprinkled throughout the exhibition like a wallpaper pattern. Also included are collage works on Sabra and Shatila (UPI photographs of dead bodies and all), sculptures referencing Israel's destruction of the power station in Bsalim, and a few pieces depicting Lebanon's environmental degradation.
This is all grim, cheerless stuff. But beyond illustrating the suffering of the lower classes for the benefit of the privileged classes who frequent events at the French Cultural Center, what exactly is the point? Nassar is a technically accomplished artist and her canvases are striking from a formal point of view. But there is no face of a joke on her body of truth here.
Antonio Segui's "Segui a Beyrouth" will be on view at Galerie Janine Rubeiz through November 17.
For information, call +961 1 868 290. Mazen Kerbaj's "Gens de Beyrouth" will be on view at Espace SD through November 19. For more information, call +961 1 563 114. Isis Nassar's paintings and sculptures will be on view at the French Cultural Center through November 10. For more information, call +961 1 420 230.




















