Two years ago, I was invited as an artist to participate in an exhibition commemorating 100 years of Islamic art in Europe. The curator had only one condition: I had to use the Arabic script for my artwork. Now, as an artist, a woman, an Arab, or a human being living in the world in 2010, I only had one thing to say: I wanted to say no. And in Arabic, to say "no," we say "no, and a thousand times no."
Pre dve godine, bila sam pozvana da kao umetnik učestvujem u izložbi obeležavanja 100 godina islamske umetnosti u Evropi. Kustos je imao samo jedan uslov: trebalo je da koristim arapski tekst za moj rad. Kao umetnik, kao žena, kao Arapkinja ili kao ljudsko biće koje živi u ovom svetu 2010., htela sam da kažem samo jednu stvar: želela sam da kažem "ne". A na arapskom, reći "ne", znači reći "ne, i hiljadu puta ne".
So I decided to look for a thousand different noes. on everything ever produced under Islamic or Arab patronage in the past 1,400 years, from Spain to the borders of China. I collected my findings in a book, placed them chronologically, stating the name, the patron, the medium and the date. Now, the book sat on a small shelf next to the installation, which stood three by seven meters, in Munich, Germany, in September of 2010.
Zato sam rešila da potražim hiljade drugih načina da kažem "ne", svemu ikad stvorenom pod islamskim ili arapskim patronatom u poslednjih 1 400 godina, od Španije pa do Kine. Sakupila sam svoje zaključke u knjigu, postavila ih hronološki, navodeći ime, pokrovitelja, posrednika i datum. Knjiga je stajala na maloj polici pored postavke dimenzija tri puta sedam metara, u Minhenu, u Nemačkoj, septembra 2010.
Now, in January, 2011, the revolution started, and life stopped for 18 days, and on the 12th of February, we naively celebrated on the streets of Cairo, believing that the revolution had succeeded.
Sada, u januaru 2011., revolucija je počela i život je stao na 18 dana, a 12. februara, smo naivno slavili na ulicama Kaira, verujući da je revolucija uspela.
Nine months later I found myself spraying messages in Tahrir Square. The reason for this act was this image that I saw in my newsfeed. I did not feel that I could live in a city where people were being killed and thrown like garbage on the street. So I took one "no" off a tombstone from the Islamic Museum in Cairo, and I added a message to it: "no to military rule." And I started spraying that on the streets in Cairo. But that led to a series of no, coming out of the book like ammunition, and adding messages to them, and I started spraying them on the walls. So I'll be sharing some of these noes with you.
Devet meseci kasnije sam ispisivala poruke na Tahrir trgu. Razlog za ovakav akt je ova slika koju sam videla u svojim vestima. Nisam osećala da mogu da živim u gradu u kom su ljudi ubijani i bacani kao đubre na ulicu. Zato sam uzela jedno "ne" sa spomenika iz Islamskog muzeja u Kairu i dodala poruku: "Ne vladavini vojske". Počela sam da to ispisujem na ulicama Kaira. Ali to je vodilo seriji drugih "ne", koji su izlazili iz knjige kao municija, dodavala sam im poruke i počela da ih ispisujem po zidovima. Zato ću podeliti neke od ovih "ne" sa vama.
No to a new Pharaoh, because whoever comes next should understand that we will never be ruled by another dictator.
Ne novom faraonu, jer ko god da dođe sledeći treba da razume da nikad više nećemo biti pod vlašću diktatora.
No to violence: Ramy Essam came to Tahrir on the second day of the revolution, and he sat there with this guitar, singing. One month after Mubarak stepped down, this was his reward.
Ne nasilju: Rami Esam je došao u Tahrir drugog dana revolucije i sedeo je tu sa svojom gitarom, pevajući. Mesec dana pošto je Mubarak podneo ostavku, ovo je bila njegova nagrada.
No to blinding heroes. Ahmed Harara lost his right eye on the 28th of January, and he lost his left eye on the 19th of November, by two different snipers.
Ne oslepljivanju heroja. Ahmed Harara je izgubio desno oko 28. januara, a levo oko 19. novembra, od strane 2 različta snajpera.
No to killing, in this case no to killing men of religion, because Sheikh Ahmed Adina Refaat was shot on December 16th, during a demonstration, leaving behind three orphans and a widow.
Ne ubijanju, u ovom slučaju "ne" ubijanju religioznih ljudi, jer je šeik Ahmed Adina Refaat ubijen 16. decembra, tokom demonstracije, ostavljajući za sobom 3 siročeta i udovicu.
No to burning books. The Institute of Egypt was burned on December 17th, a huge cultural loss.
Ne spaljivanju knjiga. Egipatski institut je spaljen 17. decembra, što je ogroman kulturni gubitak.
No to stripping the people, and the blue bra is to remind us of our shame as a nation when we allow a veiled woman to be stripped and beaten on the street, and the footprint reads, "Long live a peaceful revolution," because we will never retaliate with violence.
Ne svlačenju ljudi, plavi brushalter treba da nas podseti na sramotu nas kao nacije kada dozvoljavamo da žena pokrivena velom bude skinuta i prebijena na sred ulice, ostaje nam poruka "Živela mirna revolucija", jer se nikada nećemo suprotstaviti nasiljem.
No to barrier walls. On February 5th, concrete roadblocks were set up in Cairo to protect the Ministry of Defense from protesters.
Ne barikadama od zidova. 5. februara, betonske barikade su postavljene u Kairu da zaštite Ministarstvo odbrane od protestanata.
Now, speaking of walls, I want to share with you the story of one wall in Cairo. A group of artists decided to paint a life-size tank on a wall. It's one to one. In front of this tank there's a man on a bicycle with a breadbasket on his head. To any passerby, there's no problem with this visual. After acts of violence, another artist came, painted blood, protesters being run over by the tank, demonstrators, and a message that read, "Starting tomorrow, I wear the new face, the face of every martyr. I exist." Authority comes, paints the wall white, leaves the tank and adds a message: "Army and people, one hand. Egypt for Egyptians." Another artist comes, paints the head of the military as a monster eating a maiden in a river of blood in front of the tank. Authority comes, paints the wall white, leaves the tank, leaves the suit, and throws a bucket of black paint just to hide the face of the monster. So I come with my stencils, and I spray them on the suit, on the tank, and on the whole wall, and this is how it stands today until further notice. (Laughter)
Govoreći o zidovima, želim da podelim sa vama priču o jednom zidu u Kairu. Grupa umetnika je odlučila da nacrta tenk u prirodnoj veličini na zidu. Razmera jedan prema jedan. Ispred tenka je čovek na biciklu sa korpom za hleb na glavi. Slučajnom prolazniku, nije ništa čudno kod ove slike. Nakon akata nasilja, drugi umetnik je došao, nacrtao krv, protestante koje je pregazio tenk, demonstrante i poruku na kojoj piše: "Od sutra, imam novo lice, lice svakog mučenika. Ja postojim." Vlasti su došle, prefarbale zid u belo, ostavile tenk i dodale poruku: "Vojska i narod, ruku pod ruku. Egipat Egipćanima." Drugi umetnik je došao, nacrtao komandanta vojske kao čudoviste koje jede devojku u reci krvi ispred tenka. Vlasti su došle, prefarbale zid u belo, ostavile tenk, ostavile boju i bacile kantu crne boje čisto da prekriju lice čudovista. Zato sam ja došla sa svojim šablonima i utisnula ih na tu boju, na tenk i na ceo zid, pa danas to izgleda ovako, do daljnjeg. (Smeh)
Now, I want to leave you with a final no. I found Neruda scribbled on a piece of paper in a field hospital in Tahrir, and I decided to take a no of Mamluk Mausoleum in Cairo. The message reads, [Arabic] "You can crush the flowers, but you can't delay spring."
Želela bih da vam ostavim i poslednje "ne". Našla sam Nerudu skiciranog na parčetu papira u bolnici u Tahriru i rešila da uzmem "ne" iz Mamluk Mauzoleja u Kairu. Poruka glasi, [Arapski] "Možete da slomite cveće, ali ne možete da odložite proleće."
Thank you. (Applause) (Applause) Thank you. Shukran. (Applause)
Hvala vam. (Aplauz) (Aplauz) Hvala vam. Shukran. (Aplauz)