Hisham Wyne: Columnist, Copywriter

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 Art inspires greater and better art, across generations and myriad forms of expression. Throughout the arts, there is a long tradition of mentorship. Ezra Pound taught Earnest Hemmingway, while Andrew Warhol was influenced by Salvadore Dali’s forays into pop art. Picasso, who mixed genius with an unrivalled eye for female perfection, made the young Catalan painter Joan Miro his protégé.

The relationship between mentor and student has withstood the travails of history. It is an enduring bond, allowing each generation of artists to break new ground and improve on their inheritance. Of late, however, this personalised form of learning has been supplanted by mass education, where the student body has been transformed from a group of discrete individuals to a collective.

[This was written for the Read metro magazine]

We see you, sir. With the diamantes on your shades glistening softly in the low mall light. Behind those dark covers rest a pair of discerning eyes, never slow to appreciate a well-formed curve or a suitably short hemline. You look every inch a man of the world, sir. Till you take a left past Zara and crash into that palm tree. You hope no one has noticed, but you know it’s far too late. All that mystique has irrevocably shattered, much like the lenses of your expensive aviators.

Some wars are bitter as old lemons in vinegar. And none, not even Apple versus Android fanboys, or Beliebers taking on Justin haters, match the rancour surrounding the wearing of sunglasses indoors. On the one side are people who do wear sunglasses indoors; on the other, just about every other inhabitant of planet Earth.

Would it be wrong to presume the need for a direct positive correlation between sun and glasses? No sun, ergo no glasses. Sources of artificial light do not count. Places that offer limited exposure to sunlight, such as the Dubai Metro, which darts from dark to light to dark again, are a grey area in the shade-wearing paradigm.

Admittedly, a true sense of fashion does not conform to the norm, or just trawl the averages. But rebellion too requires taste and proportion. One wouldn’t wear a snorkelling mask to a funeral, unless said funeral were for a favourite pet turtle. Hence, the next time you’re tempted to wear shades while trawling indoor malls, do resist. Or at the very least watch out for that palm tree to the left of Zara. 

Nader Khairiddine Abuljebain is a man of stories, with a gamut hidden away in his repertoire. But where many would choose the conventional medium of worlds to express themselves, Abuljebain decided to put together a history in stamps. His book “Palestinian History in Postage Stamps” is one of the first to examine the history of a troubled people through an exclusively Arab, bilingual commentary through postage stamps. For Abuljebain is both an ardent philatelist and activist for Palestinian rights, and realized the ideal project would be a synthesis of the two. 

Let’s assume for a second that you’re homing in on Barsha on the back of a giant bird. From afar, you see a cross-section of living and shopping spaces, with apartments and villas rubbing corners with little shops, restaurants, and hypermarkets. The Mall of the Emirates, with its protruding ski slope, slides into view as retail lynchpin.

Hover a bit closer and you realize Barsha is a community humming and bustling in its own right. People mill around, cars honk and there are the inevitable traffic jams. From your perch in the sky, you linger over busy street corners. Just a few turns away, villas sit slouching in the very epitome of languor.

As a strictly amateur thespian, comedian, and general noisemaker, I find the arts scene in Barsha figuring ever more prominently within my schedule. And that’s largely due to two enterprises: DUCTAC and the Jam Jar.

Nestled in the Mall of the Emirates, the DUCTAC theatre is home to an artsy generality of people of all ages - some as tiny as kneecap-biting five or six. It offers lessons in music, comedy, tap dance, improv, writing and Arabic, and there is theatre space for all manner of performances. From little girls dressed in pink tutus to people carrying a menacing array of props and scripts, DUCTAC is home for everyone with even a fibre of interest in the arts. Within DUCTAC operate the indomitable duo of Ali Al Sayed and Mina Liccione, the founders of Dubomedy. Mina is an ex-Broadway tap queen and comedienne, and Ali a world-class purveyor of comedy in his own right. I’m currently dabbling in stand-up comedy classes with them, and thoroughly enjoying the bonhomie and camaraderie.

Then, if you were to gain some altitude, and look across to the other side of the Umm Suqeim road dividing Barsha from Al Quoz, you would see the Jam Jar hidden between rows of identical warehouses. Technically, it’s on the wrong side of the street to be considered Barsha. But its influence and proximity means it deserves honorary mention.

One of the true pioneers of Dubai’s homegrown arts scene, it caters to a wide variety of events- musical performances, theatre, and arts exhibitions. It’s a communal space that’s easily accessible, and the all-girl team is genuinely enthusiastic about arts and culture. The Jam Jar, in some manner or other, has been involved with many of the seminal arts and culture events in Dubai and even Abu Dhabi. I have memories of several happy evenings and afternoons there.

Between the Jam Jar and DUCTAC, Barsha’s denizens can rest assured there will always be artsy endeavors to soothe the soul.

Short films have always had their place in the history of film. In particular, 20th-century cinema had the feature attraction preceded by shorts. These were replaced by ads and coming attractions by the commercial realities of Hollywood, where every second of reel time must be monetised.

But the short film is far from dead, particularly in the Middle East and the UAE, where it fits in well with the local tradition of storytelling. Alice Kharoubi, Project Manager and selector for the Abu Dhabi Film Festival's (ADFF) Short Film Competition, believes there's increasing funding available, and also more encouragement for new directors.

Interesting viewpoints

The International Short Film Competition at the ADFF showcased 31 films from the world over, ranging from three minutes to more than thirty. "We've chosen films that offer interesting viewpoints from a variety of sociocultural reference points, and ideas we believe our audiences will appreciate," Kharoub said. The showcased films were at a high level, both conceptually and in terms of quality. "In previous years, some of the shorts we've shown at ADFF have gone on to win Oscar nominations. Many of the directors have gone on to expand their repertoire and make full-length features," she noted.

"The UAE market is relatively new to the idea of short films, but short films do well here," she said. "They have the advantage of offering interesting viewpoints from a gamut of sources, and encouraging the audience down the corridors of romance, comedy, drama, tragedy and dreamlike surrealism."

An excellent example of a surreal, dream-like sequence was Jean Sebastien Chauvin's And They Climbed The Mountain with a running time of thirty-three minutes. A couple is stranded in the middle of what could be utopia, with pristine landscapes that are lovingly explored through wide-angle shots. Yet they find a phone — the most alien of artefacts in such a deserted paradise — which leads to palpable dread and a sense of impending misfortune.

Simple idea

Director Chauvin says his inspiration for a film usually comes from a simple idea that he then adds layers of complexity to. "In my film, the starting point is a situation the couple find themselves in — of finding a phone in the middle of nowhere. The entire movie revolves around this basic tenet."

Director Marwan Khneisser presented Short Memory, a powerful critique of civilian life and death, and the disproportionate firepower used in Israel's bombardment of Lebanon in 2006. Talking about the film's abrupt yet haunting ending, Khneisser said, "I made my film based on one of the most heartless incidents occurring during the 2006 war. I wanted people to be aware of the nature of such war crimes [committed by Israel]." The film offered a charming snapshot of urban life in cramped quarters before war inevitably disrupted all. Khneisser believes the vertical nature of his shots is an ideal complement to the lively yet claustrophobic nature of Beirut life.

Common yet complex

Norway's Henning Roenlund was another director whose work featured in the ADFF Short Film Competition. His film A Marriage narrated the tale of a Russian woman marrying a Norwegian man, and is a study in interjecting nuance into stereotype.

"Such marriages are fairly commonplace, due in part to high Russian immigration, and come with their own baggage of stereotyping. The woman is often described as opportunistic, or the man as looking for cheap gratification. Of course, real life is far more ambiguous, and my film tries to examine these complexities."

For Laila Bouzid, director of Tunisian film Mkhobbi Fi Kobba, inspiration for a film can often be a case of identifying a true story and building a rich narrative around that. Her moving film depicted the sexist standards and violence often inherent to patriarchal society.

Kharroubi has been Project Manager for ADFF's Short Film Competition for the past five year. She's seen interest grow in her section, and noted that short films are becoming more commercially accepted. The ADFF is capitalising on this by adding new award categories. "This year, we've added the award category for Best Producer from the Arab World to go with the Best Producer internationally."

Broadcasting

She believes the next step is for broadcast TV to realise the viability of broadcasting short films. "We've recently worked with OSN to broadcast some short films, and we hope the trend will continue. Introducing short films to TV audiences will give them a greater diversity of entertainment, and help directors become better known," she said.

The short film can be a platform that is rewarding for both audience and filmmakers. Its truncated nature means less time and place to tell stories, which helps directors distil narrative down to basics. For audiences, the short film can produce ideas scintillating yet simple, capable of exploding with pristine clarity in the mind — rather like the coruscating light bulbs that populate Juan Pablo Zaramella's short film Luminaris. From the funny to the harsh, surreal to the pertinent, short films need not pander to Hollywood's often vacuous commerciality just yet. As Director Nash Edgerton of Bear put it, "Most of my short films are borne of a simple repetitive thought or dream. I make films to share that thought with others."

— Hisham Wyne is UAE-based freelance writer

Naujib Mahfouz, Egypt’s celebrated novelist and master short story writer whose oeuvre also encompassed scriptwriting, would have been hundred had he been alive today. The Nobel Peace Prize winner produced a body of work credited with some of the best writing not just in Arabic but possibly in any language. His work has had a profound impact on the world of contemporary Arab literature and cinema. To honour his hundredth birthday, the Abu Dhabi Film Festival is hosting commemorative events and screenings of some of his best known films.

Mahfouz was a product of the Egyptian revolution of 1919, a rebellion against British rule that engendered new individualism and identity in Egyptian hearts and minds. His early years saw a new Egypt that had won independence from British rule in 1922. There is curious symmetry in that Mahfouz’s hundredth birthday also falls on a revolution where Egypt is once again negotiating its identity.

At a panel discussion marking Maufhuz’s contribution to cinema, Egyptian critic Kamal Ramzi said, “Mahfouz gave us a common language of literature, and metaphors we could share. Through his novels and scripts, he enrolled us in a school of life that taught us what universities couldn’t. His brilliance as a writer was in bringing his characters to succinct life, and he always left clues that allowed actors to do justice to the roles he created.”

Mahfouz, the veritable man of cinema, had an early introduction to the screen. Since the age of seven, he used to accompany his nanny to the cinema. He’s been known to write about the agony of watching a film end and a story finish. Those moments were among the unhappiest of his life, when the characters and their stories disappeared into a roll of credits.  Not only did Mahfouz write for cinema, he also wrote about cinema – his books are peppered with cinematic references. “The importance of cinema is reflected in Mahfouz’s writing. He often uses techniques like parallel montages, and flashbacks, which are techniques inherent to the world of film,” said critic Samir Farid.

The Abu Dhabi Film Festival is showing some of Mahfouz’s classic works, including The Beginning And The End (Bidaya wa Nihaya) as well as its contemporary reinterpretation ‘Principio y fin’ set in Mexico, Between Heaven And Earth (Bayn el Sama wa el Ard) and The Thief And The Dogs (Al Lis wa Al Kilab).

Mahfouz enriched the world of cinema as he did of books. His work speaks volumes of his attachment to Cairo, to Egyptian culture, and the new flame of identity post independence from British rule in 1922. A very happy hundredth birthday to the man of cinema and letters.

No one wants anarchy on their doorstep

Oct 21^st 2011

If one were to tell you that you could defeat an ardent foe but would then need to feed their large family and keep their feral offspring from raiding your larder, would that be an idea to entice you? No one wants a wolf of their own making at their doorstep baying the arrival of winter.

It’s therapeutic applying the same logic to Pakistan’s prospects, and the supposed legions out to sabotage us. For instance, it’s been drilled into us ad nauseum since independence that India wants to squash us and use our eyeballs to bake bread. Admittedly, wars have occurred in the past, when there was more parity of power. At current juncture though, we have little that India could covet. Then of course, there’s that argument that Americans want to neutralize our fantastically manly nukes and strategically castrate us.

Of course, per norm, what most haven’t considered are the ramifications. Consider this: a full-blown invasion by America occurs; and our utterly glorious forces are quickly defeated in battle – with the caveat emptor that their radars were under maintenance or were switched off, that the Fauji cornflakes were laced with soporifics that morning, or what have you (refer to a certain raid in Abbotabad in May for the entire litany of excuses). What then? At the very least, one would run into Iraq-like scenes; and while many will no doubt run to busts and portraits of Zardari to preserve them for future auction at Christie’s once his sainthood is papally sanctified, those better prepared will make for arms caches and help themselves to some good stuff of the radioactive kind. Yes, your friendly superpower will have contingencies in place for this, but the idea of them believing all possible sites could be secured without leakage is frankly ludicrous. And so, America, by their very actions would arm anarchistic groups with the possible wherewithal of making American life very miserable.

One can also imagine India’s dismay. What was once a somewhat dysfunctional state on its borders will have suddenly turned into a delightful free-for all where all strategy is useless. The problem with strategy as expounded by Sun Tzu and Machiavelli is it always assumes the enemy as rational. And by rational, one mean capable not just of coherent thought but also concerted action. Multiple groups leaves practical rationality adrift, because there is no overriding writ.  So India, rather than tangoing with a foe it knows and comprehends, is suddenly left dealing with factions that do what they want when they want, based on whim and impulse, for they already have precious little left to lose.

No one wants a dead Pakistan. No one- not even India – wants a Pakistan so incapacitated it can’t keep itself in partial order. Despite all the jingoism, even if India has the military might to skewer Pakistan in half, what might it achieve by following through? It’d only have more states to add to the ones it can barely manage as is.

Flippancy aside, our purported carcass would turn into an excellent playground for opportunists. This will include Russia and China, who’d quickly extend influence into the failed state. It’s easy to see how America won’t be happy with that. Iran will quickly mobilize its resources too, which would leave Saudi Arabia in conniptions. And all this will be happening on India’s borders. Not a good outcome for that erstwhile neighbour.

Yes, India is undoubtedly sponsoring the Baloch insurgency, but that’s only to keep us sufficiently busy that we can’t stir things up in Kashmir. And America is clumsily plying pressure any way it can, because it’s petrified of an explosive Afghanistan once it inevitably pulls out prematurely, rather like a poorly performing lover. It’s all realpolitik. But that doesn’t mean the world is out to get us.

Au contraire, the reason we keep limping along regardless of an economy that looks a wheel short compared to a unicycle, and a leadership that makes Billy the Kid look like Mother Teresa, is that the entire world is united in at least one thing – Pakistan must be kept afloat at any rate. So the next time one brings up the idea of an existential threat from America, India, or the bogeyman du jour, it might be a good idea to tell them that a Pakistan limping is far preferable for all concerned to one irrevocably broken.

The column was written for the Express Tribune, and was published October: 9th. 2011. It can be found here.

Of late, there has been much ado over the prospects of the PTI and a certain Mr. Khan in the next general elections. There have been the pragmatic who insist that Mr. Khan’s idyllic, idealistic appeal makes for a good anthem call, but fails in the negotiated murk of implementation. Then there are those who say Mr. Khan’s whim and vigor yielded the unlikeliest of results on the cricket pitch in 92: it’s not too much to hope for a similar upheaval in status quo in the political outfield.

These arguments, though well-meaning and for the most part fairly adroit, are also unfortunately irrelevant. For it isn’t Khan’s bona fides that one must worry about, but that the system of electoral machinations is vehemently against the outsider.