November 21, 2009 in Artists from Syria | Permalink
This is one of the most interesting books that I have read recently. It contains most of the themes that have fascinated and lured me through the past twenty years: the relationship between mathematics and philosophy, logic and irrationality, creativity and insanity, absoluteness and relativity. But also, it is a book whose protagonist happens to be Bertrand Russel, the British logician-philosopher who I have always admired and thought of as one of my heroes. His contradictions notwithstanding, Russel’s genius has always evoked within me intense responses and deep angst, and provoked me to think about the grand questions of life and ideas.
Additionally, Logicomix, an Epic Search of Truth is a unique book in one very interesting aspect: it presents its most serious ideas in an accessible, clear and easy to comprehend style. It is almost a page-turner. However, to its great credit, it does not try to simplify or paraphrase the actual statements or texts it is quoting. It just puts them in a context that makes reading a book about philosophy equivalent in ease to reading a novel by Dan Brown - except that it is more fun.
Throughout the whole book, I did not encounter a single pedantic paragraph. It may be true that I didn’t like a lot the sub-plot regarding the team of contributors to the book (the book contains two stories: that of Russel and his contemporaries, and that of the authors, artists, editors and assistants who jointly worked on the book), but I cannot deny that it did further illuminate the problems discussed in the main plot, and projected it onto our more mundane present day life.
The main plot, takes the form of a lecture presented by Bertrand Russel attempting to explain to anti World War II protestors why he has changed his position on pacifism that he had adopted during World War I. The lecture becomes the life story of Russel, his philosophy, and his contemporaries. It presents the clash of great ideas and philosophy’s giants of the early twentieth century.
The book does not attempt to glorify or whitewash its protagonists. It presents them with honesty and integrity: their achievements, contributions, failures, idiosyncrasies, and, in many instances, madness.
The book is also full with drama; that of the personal lives, loves and losses of its main characters, that of the conflicts and contradictions of the grand ideas of the turn-of-the-century, and that of the labors and suffering of these great minds in attempting to reach truth and wisdom.
In one of its most dramatic moments, David Hilbert, the German thinker and mathematician, delivers a key-note speech at the International Congress, the world greatest rendez-vous for mathematicians in
The personal odyssey of Russel intermingles with glimpses from the life stories of some of the sharpest minds of the history of thoughts such as the Austrian eccentric philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein; the Hungarian John Von Neumann, the original architect of the computer; the British Alan Turing, the father of computer science; the French Henri Poincare, the founder of the chaos theory; the Czech Kurt Godel, who established the possibility of a non-expanding, rotating universe in which time-travel can be a physical reality, and many others all of which is presented in a concise and elegant narrative, an illustrated book of merely 344 pages. This is no small achievemt by the team who collaborated to make this enjoyable book: Apostolos Doxiadis the mathematician; Christos Papadimitrou, the computer scientist; Alecos Papadatos, the animation artist; and Annie di Donna the graphic artist. No wonder they are all either Greek or married to a Greek.
November 21, 2009 in Artists from Syria | Permalink
Among the many guests at our house in Kalorama, Metropolitan Philip Saliba, the Antiochian Orthodox Bishop of North America, stands out as one of the most distinguished guests to honor us by their presence.
My friendship with this remarkably enlightened, erudite, eloquent and patriotic leader of the Antiochian church dates to the early days of my posting in the United States. Since the first time I met with him, Metropolitan Philip won my heart and mind and made of me one of his orthodox disciples, albeit a non-Christian one.
Four years ago Metropolitan Philip invited me to the orthodox haven known as the Antiochian village in Pennsylvania. He warned me that there will be no TV or similar entertainment, “just bring along your books” he said “and come refresh your soul in that Spartan resort.” It was a unique experience that I am looking forward to repeat in the foreseeable future.
When Rafif first came to the US, before Sidra was born, I introduced her to Metropolitan Philip. He blessed us and wished us a beautiful and healthy offspring. At the dinner event, I made sure that Sidra and Saree would be there to greet his eminence and make him feel at home.
Throughout the evening, Metropolitan Philip enchanted us with his reading of modern Arab poetry, particularly that of Nizar Kabbani who he considers to be the foremost Arab poet of the twentieth century.
November 19, 2009 in Life, Culture, and Politics | Permalink
November 19, 2009 in Artists from Syria | Permalink
Saree is proving himself to be a match to our little tsunami Sidra. He was only five months old when he started, to our total amazement, crawling.
Not content at merely crawling, the little devil is desperately attempting to stand up. He has not managed yet, but he is very earnest on it.
Sidra, was so impressed by her brother’s accomplishments that she reverted to crawling alongside him.
October 16, 2009 in Life, Culture, and Politics | Permalink
October 15, 2009 in Artists from Syria | Permalink
Despite the time, effort and resources I have invested throughout the years attempting to correlate the art scene in Syria with the global trends of the world art market, I have not yet succeeded in finding a convincing answer to the following fundamental question: why have the aesthetics in our region (the so called Middle East) remained firmly rooted in what may be considered a universal human pathos (pleasing, soothing, intoxicating, disturbing or shocking as they may be), while those of the West have moved to the realm of the idiosyncratic and singular? Why are legendary sums of money being paid right now in the West for art that I might never consider purchasing (unless, of course, for the sake of reselling and making a small fortune)?
Being as curious as I am, I couldn’t simply shrug off phenomena like Andy Warhol or Damien Hirst contending that the unimaginably rich have their own sets of standards for spending their money that go far beyond my comprehension. I humbly believe that there might be something I am missing. Hence, I really need to work harder on ‘educating’ myself and exploring new territories that I have not yet erred into.
This is why I earnestly and diligently try to read every book I find about the contemporary art market. Collecting Contemporary by Adam Lindemann is one good example, and Seven Days in the Art World by Sarah Thornton is another example.
The book is a joy to read. It is laden with information and insight. It is even gossipy and funny.
Seven Days attempts to tell the story of the contemporary world art scene from seven vantage points: the artist at his studio, the arts critic, the arts magazine, the world of arts competitions and prizes, the international arts fairs, the Venice Biennale, and the auction houses.
On doing this,
However, the book, as compelling a read as it is, fails to address the fundamental questions of how great art is defined in today’s world, and what distinguishes a great artist from a successful one. It is more a work of a social anthropologist (the society being restricted in this case to the world of art) documenting a social strata than that of a serious art writer providing us with an erudite analysis of the driving forces of the contemporary world art scene.
Notwithstanding my unanswered questions, I still enjoyed reading the book.
P.S. If readers of my blog cannot empathize with my discombobulation vis-à-vis Warhol and Hirst, here is an example of a Hirs’t work of art that was rumored to be sold for 85 million US dollars.
(For the Love of God by Damien Hirst)
If this does not suffice to shock you, then read what the art critic of the British Daily Telegraph, Richard Dorment, wrote (and forgive the racist connotations about Arabs, Africans and South Americans):
"If anyone but Hirst had made this curious object, we would be struck by its vulgarity. It looks like the kind of thing Asprey or Harrods might sell to credulous visitors from the oil states with unlimited amounts of money to spend, little taste, and no knowledge of art. I can imagine it gracing the drawing room of some African dictator or Colombian drug baron. But not just anyone made it - Hirst did. Knowing this, we look at it in a different way and realise that in the most brutal, direct way possible, For the Love of God questions something about the morality of art and money."
With this comment, I rest my case.
October 09, 2009 in Artists from Syria | Permalink
Resuming writing in my blog on returning from the summer vacation is usually a formidable challenge for three main reasons. First: I have too many things to write about that I simply don’t know where to start, what to include and what to leave out. Second: On coming back to DC after a long absence I am overwhelmed by a large backload of work, meetings, reports, memos and a variety of issues that I need to address, which leave me very little time or energy to come back to my blog. Third: I could not have resumed blogging before I first sorted out and organized the large amount of photos I have taken during this vacation. Being a photography aficionado, I usually end up with loads of pictures that need an earnest effort in archiving and filing. If I procrastinate, the effort to catch up with the photo organizing chore at a later stage becomes Herculean.
This summer vacation included
As usual, the highlight of the whole visit was the family. All four grandparents were delighted to meet their new grandson and enchanted by the charms of Sidra. We were keen on spending as much time as possible with the family despite the enormous pressure on our time by the numerous friends who will not take no for an answer when they insist that we must accept their invitations for lunches, dinners, iftars and souhurs.
Highlights from our stay in Damascus included an evening with Ahmad Mualla, Yasser Hammoud and Rima Salmon- all three are prominent artists- as well as Yarub Badr, the minister of transport, and Nabil Asswad. Naturally Ahmad presented his latest artistic creations, and the discussion focused mostly on art, culture and architecture. Good food and drinks made these thorny issues more palatable. Dr. Sabah Kabbani, the former Syrian ambassador to the
An escape to the sea shore was the only exception from the rituals of social life in
While there, every body told us that we should go for lunch or dinner to a newly opened mountainous resort up on the coastal mountains, which we did. Fifty minutes drive from Lattakia, we reached ‘Mountain Breez’ amidst a breathtaking mountainous landscape near the village of al-Kulaila. The trip there was a unique experience that reminded us of our excursion in the Spanish mountainous regions between Andalusia and the
When in
October 09, 2009 in Life, Culture, and Politics | Permalink
October 09, 2009 in Artists from Syria | Permalink
Yesterday, we had a visitor to our home in Kalorama Rd that will always be cherished and remembered with pride and joy. He was none other than the legendary archbishop of Jerusalem Hilarion Capucci.
Archbishop Capucci entered history as the catholic bishop who was imprisoned by Israel in 1974 for four years, then exiled away from his adoptive country Palestine. He has been roaming the world ever since, just like the flying Dutchman, hoping to be able to make it back to his beloved Jerusalem before he leaves this unjust world.
His personal tragedy notwithstanding, Archbishop Capucci is a gregarious, witty, charming and charismatic person. He captivated us with his vignettes, jokes, history and politics. He recounted to us his latest act of defiance when he tried to bring food and medicine to Gaza in February 2009 aboard a small ship that challenged the Israeli naval blockade, but was eventually caught by the Israelis, insulted, shackled, deprived from food, prevented from taking his medicine (he is a man of 87 years), and deported to al-Qunaitra in Syria.
He also reminisced about his childhood in Aleppo. He recounted how he mediated on behalf of President Carter to free six US soldiers captured in Iran. When he went to Iran for this mission, he ended up staying as the house guest of the Grand Ayatollah al-Khomeini in Qum for three days - a privilege many Iranians would envy him for.
To add icing to the cake, Archbishop Capucci blessed our new born baby and his big sister and prayed for them as well.
June 18, 2009 in Life, Culture, and Politics | Permalink
June 18, 2009 in Artists from Syria | Permalink
My Friend, Sami Moubayed, has asked me to write for his magazine, Forward, about my life interest in Art and how I became an ardent promoter of Syrian art. Here is what I wrote in Forward:
In the stiflingly hot afternoons of Damascene summers, when the TV broadcast would not start before early evenings, the only choice I had for spending my time while my parents were having their siesta was to lie on the sitting-room sofa and read novels from my dad’s library. The books were mainly abridged world literature from the Egyptian monthly series kitabee that was edited by Hilmi Murad. At that very young age, I used to consider Murad as one of the greatest scholars in the world.
In that same sitting room, a few paintings hung. Their small size and unassuming position notwithstanding, they have created a lasting impact on me that led to a lifelong of curiosity and interest. One of them, my mother’s portrait, was painted by a famous portraitist from Aleppo, Rollan Khouri; the second, a still life, was painted by my father himself, a skilled painter – but of no exceptional talent; and the third by a French architect who lived, worked and taught in Aleppo -a certain monsieur Kaplan who, I am ashamed to admit, I have completely forgotten his first name.
(my father, Zuheir Moustapha, reading in front of one of his paintings, 1967)
Whereas the first two paintings were straightforwardly beautiful and easy to appreciate by an adolescent in his early teens, the Kaplan painting disturbed me. While it was not difficult for me to apprehend that he was depicting a building and people in front of it, I was nonplussed by the total lack of accuracy or clarity. I thought he was an awful painter. When I would ask my dad why was this painting hanging on our wall, he would patiently explain to me that this was a cubic painting. Objects are not illustrated as they are seen or perceived, but analyzed and reconstructed. I would nod my head feigning apprehension, but deep inside I was not convinced that Kaplan was a good artist.
Yet, while reading one novel after another, my eyes would roam and my sight would settle on this perplexing painting. I still did not like it, but I would catch myself gazing at it - actually spending more time wondering about cubism and what seemed to me as a twisted artistic representation of life. Little did I know then that this cubist painting has implanted deep in my tabula rasa an appreciation for what is different and complex in art.
Years later, I became a student at Ibn-Khaldoun’s secondary school in Damascus. Al-Sha’ab gallery, the only art gallery in Damascus then was only a couple of blocks away. After school hours I would head there and spend time perusing the works of prominent Syrian masters: Fateh Moudaress, Louay Kayali, Nassir Shura and many others. By the time I became a student at the University of Damascus, my interest in Syrian art had become part and parcel of my inner world. I was doing this in an unassuming manner. It was simply integrated in my subconscious, with very little actual understanding of why certain works were considered great works of art while others were merely ersatz European schools of painting.
(my mother, Aida Kayali, as portrayed by Louay Kayali in 1953)
Then, in the late seventies, the Syrian Ministry of culture started publishing a new periodical, al-Hayat al-Tashkeeliya, edited by Tarek al-Shareef. Despite its bad paper quality and horrendous color reproductions, I found it to be educational and informative. It was mainly thanks to this splendidly written, terribly produced art magazine that I started for the first time in my life to fathom the mysteries of the world of art and to learn the lingo that used to discombobulate me heretofore. Yet at that green age, art was not my passion. It was music. In those years I would spend hours after hours listening to the major works of the classical Western repertoire, and voraciously read whatever articles and books I could lay my hands on, in an attempt to unravel the fascinating complexity of the musical realm. Art came second. In fact, my writings on music were my first published works – mainly in the culture section of al-Thawra daily. My first book, The Echoes of Orpheus, which was published by Dar Tlass in 1982 was about four great composers.
However, in the summer of 1980, I managed to fulfill one of my youth dreams. Saving money obtained through odd jobs here and there for a long time, and with an additional small subsidy by my parents, I undertook my first journey as a young adult abroad heading to London to spend a whole month there, alone, and with very little money. There, I realized that indulging my first passion, music, was very expensive for my scanty means; however, art was available to enjoy for free. Thus, I spent my time between the National Gallery and the Tate. I would go there almost daily, sometimes spending a couple of hours, often to visit one single hall, sitting opposite one painting, reading the notes offered on a panel next to the painting then leave, only to come back the following day. The internet had not been invented yet. Information was difficult to obtain, and for a young university student from Damascus, buying expensive art catalogues was beyond my means. So I took my notebook and pen and started writing meticulous descriptions of every painting I liked. I would describe its theme, the colors used, and the impact it created on me. I would also add some data and information about the work taken from the museum’s panels. I still have these two notebooks full with my artistic explorations of the London art galleries. They were neither intended for publication nor to be read by anyone else. Just notes to help me remember what I saw and enjoyed. Yet they constituted my first attempt at writing about art .
Later in 1986, I went to Paris to follow a training course in computer aided design. Since my program consisted mainly of hands-on training from 9 to 5 at a computer company with no courses or after-hours study requirements, it left me ample time to explore the treasures of the art capital of the world.
When I became the Secretary General of the Arab School of Science and Technology in 1998, I had my first chance to move on from my private interest in art to a more serious attempt at promoting the interest in art on the public scene. Having for the first time a budget to spend on public relations, I ordered 25 large posters of reproductions of some major works by prominent Syrian artists, framed them, and distributed them among the buildings and corridors of the Higher Institute of Applied Sciences and Technology where the Arab School had its headquarters. With these large posters, and the frequent performances by the National Symphony Orchestra under the baton of Solhi al-Wadi at the Institute, this purely technical institute acquired a distinctive aura as a venue for high culture and serious art.
On becoming the envoy of Syria to the United States, I was aware from the very beginning that cultural diplomacy is an essential component of an effective and successful campaign of public diplomacy. Syrian cinema, music and art would serve as ambassadors presenting the finest that Syria has to offer to the American people.
My wife, Rafif, and I started by transforming both the embassy’s chancery and the residence into a show venue for the superb collection of outstanding Syrian works of art. Originally, I had a small, but magnificent, number of paintings to start with. They were all brought to the embassy in 1975 by my predecessor and refined intellectual, Ambassador Sabah Kabbani. Then I managed to add a larger collection of paintings that were sent to the embassy from the Ministry of Culture. Today, whenever guests visit the chancery or the residence they never fail to notice and comment on the resplendent examples of what they deem world class art.
Our next step was to help in organizing two different exhibitions for Syrian artists living and working in the United States. The success of these two small events convinced us that the American scene was ripe for a major Syrian art retrospective. Naturally, we realized that such an ambitious undertaking would need the combined efforts of the embassy and the Syrian expatriate community. We decided from the outset that this event should be en par with the very best of what the world of art was offering in America. We decided to go for one of the most prestigious art venues in Washington, The Katzen Center at The American University. We printed a high quality booklet to accompany the exhibition, threw a major reception with a musical performance at the opening night, and invited art critics and the art loving-community of Washington to this major event. But most importantly, we were keen to exhibit the best works of Syrian artists. There was no room for compromise or patronizing attitudes.
Eventually, “Art from Syria: A journey through Half a century of Creativity” was not only a huge artistic success that introduced a very sophisticated face of Syria to the American public, but also a major exercise in collaboration between the Embassy and the Syrian community across the United States. Families removed their most esteemed paintings from the walls of their living rooms, packaged, insured and sent them to the Embassy in Washington. For years their treasured works of art were only on display for the few, now they were exhibited to the many. Moreover, they truly felt that the exhibition was theirs.
From that point forward, those in the community who were not initially interested in Syrian art started to show interest in this beautiful and effective means of cultural representation of their country of descent. Gradually, Rafif and I found ourselves becoming artistic advisors to those who have no previous experience in collecting Syrian art. Before leaving for a visit to Syria, they would call and ask us for advice on what to purchase? Who is hot? What sort of a price they should pay? And where to find works of this or that artist? A rather strange task for an Ambassador, but equally pleasant as well.
During those years of visiting art galleries and museums, reading about art, and discussing art with my friends, I moved from a mere observer and absorber into a more active participator. I started writing and publishing art comments and reviews. This included articles published in al-Hayat al-Tashkeelyia, and commentaries published as introductions in some artist’s catalogues.
When Rafif worked with the ladies from BASMA, a Syrian charity for children with cancer, to raise money for these unfortunate children, she organized a grand benefit Gala and, as expected, the Syrian community from across America participated in this philanthropic endeavor. We thought that funds would be primarily raised through purchase of tickets and other donations; however, two major art galleries from Syria, Ayyam and Art House, heard of what Rafif was doing, and contacted her offering paintings to be sold at an auction and use revenues to support the project. Thus, the grand Gala became another major artistic event. And Syrian art served this time not only as a cultural ambassador, but also as a catalyst for community work and charity.
Meanwhile, throughout the past three years, I have collected and posted hundreds of examples of Syrian art on the internet. Site statistics indicate an average of 3100 visitors per month to my personal site, mostly Americans. To the unaware visitor, the quality and beauty of these artworks come as an absolute surprise. I presume that the only reason my site continues to attract returning visitors is their insatiable desire to look at more examples of Syrian art that I post regularly. Thus, while my original intention was to use my site to promote Syrian art, the opposite happened, and Syrian art actually promoted and sustained my site. After all, who said that interest in art was not rewarding?
May 27, 2009 in Artists from Syria | Permalink
May 27, 2009 in Artists from Syria | Permalink
As I have said before, I had been invited to speak almost everywhere in America: major universities, small colleges, world affairs councils and city clubs – even military and navy academies. The one big exception was, until now: Yale. I was never invited to talk at Yale.
In the last two months I gave a speech at Duke’s in Durham, North Carolina; Gorge Mason’s at Fairfax, Virginia; and finally at the Middle East Institute in Washington. However, yesterday, I headed, to the most prestigious and oldest of all American Universities.
I took the plane to Hartford, Connecticut - and was then driven by car to New Haven where Yale occupies most of the town. This is very similar to the layout of Cambridge and the famous relation between town and gown.
I started my day with a meeting with the Vice President where we discussed possibilities of establishing a partnership between Yale and one of the major Syrian universities, as well as offering some scholarships to students from Syria to come and study at this renowned center of academic excellence.
Following that, I had lunch with a group of academics and administrators from Yale, including Professor Ellen Lust an acclaimed political scientist.
After a fascinating visit to the university’s richly endowed library, the Council on Middle East Studies hosted me at the Macmillan Center for a public speech and a discussion of the Obama vision toward the Middle East. In the evening, I went to dinner with more academics from Yale, most notable among them was Professor Harvey Weiss, an expert archeologist, who has worked in Syria for decades.
Today, I had lunch with a number of academics from Yale at Sam Gejdenson’s fabulous house where I met his art loving wife Betsy. All that happened before taking the train to Boston to attend a meeting at the MIT dedicated to discussing ideas about establishing an innovation center in Syria with the full support of the MIT.
Needless to say, that yesterday, Monday the 4th of May marked Saree’s completion of the second week of his life. It was the first night that I slept away from my new baby.
May 09, 2009 in Life, Culture, and Politics | Permalink
May 09, 2009 in Artists from Syria | Permalink
Some of my favorite works by distinguished Syrian artists.
April 23, 2009 in Artists from Syria | Permalink
On April 17, we celebrated the Independence Day at the Mandarin Hotel in Washington. The huge attendance was a testimony to how Syria is regarded by the American people despite years of trying to distort its image, particularly during the Bush era.
Washington's foremost blogger and the director of the New America Foundation Steve Clemons paid me the best compliment I have ever had since I came to America when he wrote:
"Yesterday evening, I wanted to pay my respects to a fellow blogger and lover of the arts, Imad Moustapha- who also happens to be the Ambassador of Syria to Washington."
I am usually described here as the Ambassador of Syria who is also a blogger and a lover of art. Clemons's way of introducing me was music to my ears.
The event was attended by the Syrian community from the national beltway, American friends of Syria, academics, diplomats - including almost all Arab ambassadors, prominent personalities from the US State Department, and major think tanks pundits. Most notably: it was heavily attended by the media. Representatives of major TV channels, national newspapers, influential internet sites, bloggers and independent analysts participated in celebrating Syria's national day. The implication of their heavy attendance was both a rebuke to the Bush legacy, and a strong condoning of President Obama's policies of dialogue and respect.
Another notable blogger had also this to write about our national day celebration in his Friday Lunch Club blog. However, a less friendly comment appeared in Foreign Policy's Syria on the Potomac. Well, after all, this is life in Washington DC.
April 23, 2009 in Life, Culture, and Politics | Permalink
April 23, 2009 | Permalink
Last month was particularly rich in regards to Syrian music and singing in America. Four different groups performed at various venues across America with unanimous critical acclaim. The al-Kindi ensemble of traditional oriental music performed at the Eisenhower Theatre of the Kennedy center, whereas the group led by Kinan al-Azmeh presented modern jazzy music, mainly composed by Kinan himself, at the Millennium Stage of the same center.
However, the two major events were those of the Farah children’s choir that won the hearts of large audiences in three different states, and the concert presented by six Syrian artists from the National Symphony Orchestra who performed with the Pacific Symphony Orchestra in California hosted by their conductor Carl St. Clair at the Sogerstorm Concert Hall.
The music critic of the Orange County Register wrote approvingly: “Music director Carl St.Clair invited members of the Syrian National Symphony Orchestra, including its conductor, as well as Syrian folk musicians to take part in an "Arabian Nights" program. The government of Syria, of course, is officially considered not one of this country's best pals. But music will make friends. Thursday's concert unwound as a leisurely exploration of traditional Arab music and instruments, heard in the plush context of symphony orchestra accompaniment. The Syrian musicians were welcomed warmly by the audience and seemed pleased by the reception, sending plenty of warmth back.”
The concert included pieces played by virtuoso soloists and conducted by Missak Baghbadourian, as well as a concerto written by the talented Syrian composer Zaid Jabri and conducted by Mark St. Clair. Firas Shahrestan played Vivaldi’s Four Seasons on the Qanoun, Mussalam Rahal played Shafi Baddredin’s Concerto for Nai and String Orchestra, Mouhammad Osman presented on his buzuk Muhamad Abdul Rahim’s Tango for Buzuk and Strings.
The doyen of classical music in Syria, the late Solhi al-Wadi was not absent from this concert. His orchestral piece "Meditation on a Theme by Muhammad Abdul Wahhab" was presented. The piece was described by the Orange County Register as "glitzy, lush and romantic." Presenting music by Solhi al-Wadi was particularly laden with emotions. Al-Wadi was not only the founder of the Syrian National Symphony Orchestra, but he also toured California with his orchestra fifteen years ago, and performed with his young Syrian musicians in Orange County. The biggest surprise for the evening was the composition of Zaid Jabri for clarinet, cello and orchestra. Kinan Azmeh played the clarinet solo part, while Kinan Abu Afash played the cello part. Once again, the young Zaid Jabri is proving himself to be the finest musical talent from Syria on the world scene at present. His “Oriento Grosso” uses modern discords and a contemporary idiom within an Arabic musical context to produce a strong captivating work with a powerful dramatic overtone.
April 04, 2009 in Life, Culture, and Politics | Permalink
March 18, 2009 in Artists from Syria | Permalink
Last month I had a fabulous trip to Damascus. I went there for business, attended official meetings and did lots of public engagements (lectures, press conferences and media activities), but I also had an excellent time with my family, friends and the vibrant cultural scene there.
Because I was accompanying some visiting US Congressmen and Senators (with their families), I also spent a relatively long time going around the old town in Damascus – my favorite place in the world. I accompanied them to places as varied as the ancient Jewish synagogue in Jubar and the holy Shiite Shrine of Sett-Zeinab.
While in Damascus, I had the opportunity to attend the art exhibition of Rima Salmoun at the Art House gallery, visit the new studio of Ahmad Mualla and attend a concert of the Syrian Philharmonic Orchestra (works by Rossini and Tchaicovsky were presented, but I have to admit that I was not impressed).
I also joined the Syrian charity BASMA in a press conference to advocate the cause of children with cancer in Syria. The only event that I regret to have missed was an evening with the renowned Syrian poet Nazih abu-Afash. The reason was simply: total exhaustion.
One downside to this visit though: I intensely missed Sidra and Rafif. A separation that lasted for a fortnight proved to be more than what I was prepared to withstand.
March 18, 2009 in Life, Culture, and Politics | Permalink
March 18, 2009 in Artists from Syria | Permalink
Last week we came back from a trip to California. I was invited there by the Claremont College to give a speech. It also included an interview with the Los Angeles Times.
As usual, meetings with the community and friends constituted the highpoints of the trip. The list of friends we met there included Selma and Hazem Chihabi; Lara and Robert Rezko; Dina and Habib Lahlouh; Barabara and Adnan Asswad, Ghada and Ray Irani; Hassan and Mrs. Mushammel; Talal and Mrs. Baidoun; and Ihsan and Mrs. Nizam.
Sidra also had lots of fun running along the strand of Laguna Beach.
One of the outstanding experiences I had there was when professor Bassam Franjieh of the Claremont College brought his Arabic language students (30 plus young American women and men) to greet me, and to my big surprise and bemusement they all joined in a choired recital of two Quran verses: 'al-Fatiha' and, and the famous ‘You have your religion and I have mine’. - memorized by heart and sung according to the best tajweed traditions. Very civilized indeed.
March 01, 2009 in Life, Culture, and Politics | Permalink
March 01, 2009 in Artists from Syria | Permalink
February 01, 2009 in Artists from Syria | Permalink
I have just finished reading for the second time Alex Ross’s very important book on the music of the twentieth century. Before I proceed into discussing this book, I need to qualify my previous statement: whereas I read the whole book in the first round, I only re-read selected chapters in the second round, so a more accurate statement would be that I have read this book one and a half times(!).
The book has both peaks and weaknesses. It is at its best when it puts the major musical developments of the twentieth century in their historic, political, literary and artistic context. It is rather difficult and a bit boring when it delves into technical analysis of some major works by various composers, and it becomes quite disorienting when the whole discourse focuses on the style, language, technique and idiom of a given composer, say, Pierre Boulez, without any comment whatsoever on the aesthetic aspects of his music, the impact it has created on the public, the profoundness of his musical expression, and the universality of his art. After all this is what makes a composer relevant: did he write music that has either brought more beauty (in the broadest possible interpretation of the word beauty), or affected our visceral appreciation of this most elusive human form of expression.
Yet the book is very informative, and from time to time quite entertaining, abundant with trivia that adds icing on the cake. I believe that trivia forms a positive contribution to serious books discussing high-brow cultural issues: it put a human, sometimes comic, seldom tragic face on those demi-gods that have fascinated humanity with their outbursts of emotions, wit, joys, sorrows, or stringent logical and abstract polemics.
I enjoyed a lot reading the stories about Mahler and Strauss. I laughed at the stories of how scornful Schoenberg was towards the vulgarity of writing music that actually pleases the public. I wondered how a giant like Stravinsky would acquiesce to a petit dictator like Boulez, I was repulsed by the fanaticism of the so called avant-guard composers who would loath and foul-mouth any one who would dare to write a hint of tonal music, and I sympathized with the enormous difficulties Shostakovich and Prokofiev had to face when dealing with an art-patron whose name was Stalin, or even to the humiliation Strauss suffered by Hitler and Gobbles.
The book did not only entertain and inform me, but also brought me back to some almost forgotten or neglected masterpieces such as Shoenberg’s Guerre Lieder and Britten’s Peter Grimes. At one point, reading this book created an irresistible urge to quit anything else and rush to listen to Lutoslawski’s third symphony after at least three years of total oblivion. Finally, it particularly taught me a lot about American composers that I almost knew nothing about: Ives, Copland, Carter, Cage, and Reich.
Nevertheless, one big question still lingers; it is almost a mystery for me: Ross had succeeded in putting me off towards the extreme schools of experimental atonal works of Cage, Stockhausen and company. Did he intend to do so? If that was the case, then why write pages after pages analyzing their music and explaining it? There is an ambivalence in Ross’s perspective on these composers, he never reveals to us if he has included them and allocated a large part of his book to explaining what they have done out of a desire to be ‘objective’ and to present to the reader with all schools of music composition in the twentieth century regardless of their relevance, or that he personally admires their creativity and enjoys listening to the ‘noise’ they have produced.
January 31, 2009 in Artists from Syria | Permalink
Our residence at Kalorama continues to be a meeting place for friends of Syria (and of ours as well). The range of guests included US congressmen as well as neighbors. Some live here, others were visitors from Syria.
My old buddy and classmate Abdullah Dummar visited us from New York, and spent the week-end with us. Sidra had a great time with him, while Rafif and I enjoyed eating his mother's makdous (stuffed eggplants). During Abdullah's stay with us, Dr. Nicola Shaheen and his family who were visiting from Damascus had dinner with us. Dr. Shaheen, the renowned plastic surgeon, is famous for his dexterity in making ladies more beautiful than they already are, but very few know that he is also a witty, engaging and erudite schmoozer.
My former boss, the President of the University of Damascus, who was also the former Minister of Higher Education in Syria, Dr. Hani Mortada, was gracious enough to come specially to Washington to spend a day with us.We spent our times reminiscing about our erstwhile academic lives and catching up on friends and family.
Also from New York, Ibrahim al-Fadel and his family came with his sister Dr. Rayya al-Fadel and her husband Dr. Mahmoud Kheir-Beik to visit us. Ibrahim is the son of the late former President of the Damascus University, Mouhammad al-Fadel, and he is a prominent scientist and intellectual in his own right.
Rafif and I also enjoyed having for dinner at our place a number of US congressmen, ambassadors and other friends. This included Rep. Nick Rahall, Rep. Charles Boustany, Rep. Dennis Kucinich, the ambassadors of Iceland and Oman, professor Alan Merton the president of George Mason and professor Nasser Rabbat of MIT.
My dear firend Raja Sidawi also came from Paris for a short visit. A dinner to honour him included, among others, Seymour Hersh of the New Yorker, Heleen Cooper of the New York Times, Michael Van Dusen of the Wilson Institute, Robert Mally of the International Crisis Group and Safa Rifka of the ADC.
For a highly 'intellectual' dinner we also had 18 professors and scholars from the Syrian Studies Association. This included old friends like David Leasch and Annie Higgins, as well as new ones.
Among the new friends we had also at our house were Dr. Amer al-Azem, the professor of Archeology at Brigham Young and his wife Joumana. Amer happens also to be the son of Dr. Sadeq Jalal al-Azm the renowned scholar and philosopher.
Finaly, the indefatigable Joshua Landis with his parents, wife Manar and two sons added our house to his Syria Comment list of dangerous places. Yet, we had fun with the Landises.
January 31, 2009 in Life, Culture, and Politics | Permalink
December 31, 2008 in Life, Culture, and Politics | Permalink
December 23, 2008 in Artists from Syria | Permalink
Syrian art has become the most sought-after and highly priced art at international auctions in London and Dubai as compared to art works from the rest of the Arab world. This is according to art curators at Christie's and the highly influential arts magazine Canvas. Egypt and Lebanon came at a distant second and third respectively, and Iraq ranked fourth.
More interestingly, on the Asian art scene which is becoming very trendy in the West, Syrian art ranked fourth after China, India and Iran. This is certainly a remarkable achievement for a small country like Syria and a testament to the explosion of artistic creativity in the last decade in Syria.
Here, in the U.S. the art market did not miss to notice what was going on in Syria. Four major Syrian arts events have taken place recently in America – much to the pride and joy of the Syrian expatriate community. These exhibitions dazzled American art connoisseurs who have never encountered art works from Syria before. Many visitors were actually asking questions of the sort: What do you mean by Syrian artists? Are these guys actually living and working in Syria? I still have vivid recollections of how visitors to the Syrian art exhibition Rafif and I organized in Washington in 2007 were visibly stunned by the artistic sophistication and creative power of the works they were looking at.
Last October, Ayyam Gallery, a Syrian art gallery, showcased its featured artists at one of the major art and design fairs in New York at the Park Avenue Armory. A fortnight later, a prominent art gallery in the prestigious Madison Avenue, Galerie Mark Hachem, exhibited more works from the Ayyam Gallery artists, such as: Asaad Arabi, Ammar al-Beik, Muhanad Orabi, Walid al-Masri, Safwan Dahoul and others.
This December, the scene moved to Miami. At Art Basel Miami Beach, the Kuwaiti arts promoter Majed al-Sabah exhibited designs based primarily on Syrian traditional furniture. Splendid pieces of engraved wood inlaid with mother-of-pearl were the basis of some very original and unusual designs shown in the exhibit. As for paintings, it was a pleasant surprise for Rafif and myself to discover that a major work by Ahmad Mualla has seen its way to Art Basel Miami Beach. Mualla was the only Arab artist who had a work at this world class art fair. Between New York and Miami, Syrian art had a good deal of exposure, and was far more eloquent than any advertisement or public relations campaign for Syria.
December 23, 2008 in Life, Culture, and Politics | Permalink
November 21, 2008 in Artists from Syria | Permalink
Last month I visited Seattle for a couple of talks at the Washington University and the Seattle Council on World Affairs.
While there, a gentleman named Dr. James Sanchez introduced himself and presented to me a book written by Cyrus Sulzberger which was published in 1969. He wanted me to read what Sulzberger wrote about the assassination of Count Bernadotte the United Nations Security Council envoy to the Middle East.
Folke Bernadotte (1895-1948) was a member of the House of Bernadotte, the current royal dynasty of the Kingdom of Sweden, as well as that of Norway between 1818 and 1905. He was a diplomat noted for his negotiations of the release of about 15,000 prisoners from German concentration camps during World War II including 11,000 Jews. After the war, Bernadotte was unanimously chosen by the victorious powers to be the UN mediator in the Arab Israeli conflict of 1947-1948. He was assassinated in Jerusalem in 1948 by members of underground Zionist groups while pursuing his official duties.
Count Bernadotte
Cyrus L. Sulzberger worked as a journalist in the newspaper owned by his family The New York Times. His mother was the sole descendent of Adolph Ochs the owner of the NY Times and a Jewish community pillar. Cyrus’s paternal grandfather was Chairman of the American Zionist Federation.
While the fact that Stern and Irgon, the Zionist extremist terrorist groups, have assassinated countless foreign diplomats and Arab civilians is common knowledge to anyone who has read the history of Israel - What I found most astounding was that Cyrus Sulzberger actually knew about the planned assassination of Count Bernadotte prior to it taking place. His brother-in-law Alexis was working at the time for Count Bernadotte, and instead of warning the UN envoy about the eminent danger on his life, he did something extraordinary; I will let him tell the story in his own words, and leave the final judgment to the reader:
“ Tel Aviv, July 24, 1948 A most extraordinary thing happened today. I was typing in our room and Alexis (who is a very late sleeper) was still in bed with the sheet wrapped around his head to keep out the light. A knock at the door and a message was handed to me: a name I didn’t recognize. Downstairs were two handsome, tall young fellows in khaki shorts and light-colored shirts. They shook hands and suggested we go out for a coffee because they had something to say. It turned out they were both South African Jews who had come here since the war and were not only ardent Zionists but members of the Stern gang. … They discussed the aims of the Sternists and, among other things, horrified me by warning that the organization intended to assassinate Count Bernadotte and other advisers on the UN mission just the way they had murdered Lord Moyne [who was the British state minister to the Middle East until 1944 when he was murdered by Stern] because it was necessary to frustrate the UN effort to confine Israel within artificially constricted borders. At first I couldn’t believe them. When I was convinced I took them upstairs, awakened Alexis and, as I pulled him up by the hair, said: “This is my brother-in-law. He works for UN and I don’t want him murdered by mistake; he’s not important enough for any deliberate murdering. Remember his face.” Alexis looked bewildered. My visitors nodded amiably and departed. After they left I told Alexis what it was all about.”
A Long Row of Candles, pp.402-403
Lord Moyne
Count Bernadotte was assassinated six weeks later among other UN officials. However, Alexis’s life was spared, I presume. Following this assassinations, the British authorities declared Stern and the Haganah as terrorist organizations, and put a trophy for the capture of two of their wanted leaders: Menachem Begin and Yitzhak Shamir.
October 31, 2008 in Artists from Syria | Permalink
October 29, 2008 in Artists from Syria | Permalink
Being Modern in the Middle East by Keith Watenpaugh is certainly not for those looking for an entertaining book to spend some nice time reading. It is a difficult read, but richly informative and intellectually rewarding. Once I completed reading the book I could not resist the temptation to call the author, congratulate him on his magnificent work, and get to know personally this academic who has dedicated a great amount of time and effort to research and inform his readers about my birthplace, the city of Aleppo.
My admiration for the book notwithstanding, I found many of the conclusions Mr. Watenpaugh has reached in this book in need of more serious scrutiny and an in-depth scholarly evaluation. This is something I will further discuss at a later stage.
The book is a masterly study of the Aleppo upper class; yes, the upper class, despite the fact that he considers it a study of the rising middle class of Aleppo – but this is really a minor detail. According to Watenpaugh, a rising middle class in the liberal professions, white collar employees, lawyers, doctors and businessmen had led to the emergence of a civil society in the early twentieth century in Aleppo in which new forms of politics, bodies of thought, and ways of engaging the various authorities (the Ottomans, the Arab Syrian kingdom, and subsequently, the French mandate) were created.
The strengths of this book, and they are many, are revealed when he uses the enormous amount of research and digging into historical resources he has done to reconstruct a vivid picture of life in Aleppo, and what being modern meant in the non-West in the first half of the twentieth century.
“Festive social gatherings...were places in which Aleppo’s doctors, lawyers, office workers, and clerks could congregate and perform their “middle-class-ness” in the eyes of another. These salons – like the more formal organizations and schools – acted as arbiters of tastes and sites wherein the middle class of Aleppo could be modern and convey their middle-class modernity to one another...They provided a place in which to create and maintain interclass networks of power and prestige”.
“Foremost of these [literary salons] was that of Marriana al-Marrash (1849-1919) ... she organized a salon in the home she shared with her husband. Habitués included the leading intellectuals of the city, most notably [Abdul-Rahman] al-Kawakibi...in the mixed evenings get-togethers literary topics were discussed...Chess and card games were played, and complicated poetry competitions took place; wine and ‘araq flowed freely; participants sang, danced, and listened to records played on phonographs” .
Watenpaugh reminds us in his book that the oldest Arabic-type printing press in the Levant was Aleppo’s Maronite Press which started its operations in 1701. He also mentions that al-Kawakibi founded the first independent newspaper in the region , al-Shahba’ in 1877. He believes that what happened in Aleppo was part of a larger process in which the East Mediterranean middle class (I would say upper class) formed clubs, founded newspapers and entered into complex critical-rational discourse with one another and government and revolutionary authorities. “Liberalism in its multiple forms was a recurrent theme of the discourse.”
After Watenpaugh details how the politically active Mutual Aid Society evolved into the Nadi Halab (Aleppo Club) in 1913, he writes: “While the Aleppo Club has survived into the twenty-first century and still hosts lectures, sponsors sports teams, and aids the poor, its chief function as a middle-class social club that self-consciously mirrors styles of European bourgeois sociability; it has no overt political presence in the politics of contemporary Syria. In the 1940s and 1950s it was the site of debutante balls and bridge tournaments, and now it hosts gala wedding receptions, karaoke nights, and cocktail parties”.
Some of the anecdotes told in the book are really fascinating. When US president Wilson decided to send a commission to Syria and Lebanon to gauge local opinion in the region, the French and British objected contending that public opinion did not exist in the region. However, the Syrians were already boiling with nationalistic fervor, and the Syrian National Congress was at its peak. When the American commissioners, Charles Crane and Henry King arrived in the region in 1919, they met with a highly enthusiastic and strongly opinionated population. In Aleppo, the population were rallied behind the ideals of a ‘United Country’ and the “natural boundaries of Syria”, which figured highly in the discourse that greeted the members of the commission. By the time the commission arrived to Aleppo from Hama by train on 17 July 1919, Aleppines had already formed a unified stance. King and Crane met with the mayor of Aleppo, Ihsan al-Jabiri and heard from him that what the people of Aleppo wanted was in complete agreement with the Syrian National Congress. The Americans were surely bemused when they also received a women’s delegation (remember, this is 1919) headed by Shukriyya Jabiri the daughter of Nafi' Pasha Jabiri. When they questioned Shukkriyya, they got the following response:
Question: Are you representatives of the women of Aleppo?
Answer: Yes. [Shukkryyia then presented the chairman with a written statement.]
Question: Are you aware of the activities of the women in Beirut and Damascus?
Answer: Not at all!
Question: Is this something [i.e. the written statement] you all want?
Answer: It is the only thing in our hearts and thus it is our only answer.
Question: Do you have political experience?
Answer: We do not. But our men have been oppressed and they work all the time to liberate the nation and we know this.
Having stated clearly how much I found the book rich and sophisticated, I think that Mr. Watenpaugh has got it wrong on one major finding in his book. In a way or another, he concludes that the actual people of Aleppo did not feel that they were Arabs or Syrians; they genuinely felt that they were Ottomans. According to him, it was the elite and the notables of Aleppo who led the city into the nationalistic movement and the arising Syrian identity. This statement can be easily refuted, and in the extreme, it can be described as controversial. I would say that in the very same period he has discussed, the vast majority of simple Alepines did not speak a single Turkish word, and only regarded their turkish rulers as feared despots. While their sense of belonging to a developed concept of an Arab nation may not be that conscious or sophisticated, Arabism was the only identification they used when describing themselves.
But if you take as an example, his astounding conclusions about Ibrahim Hanano the foremost Aleppo leader who fought against both the Turks and the French, and whose whole personal history is seamlessly interwoven with Syria’s national revival and struggle for independence, one cannot but feel surprised by how far Watenpaugh went in his conclusions. The author actually wants us to believe that Hanano's revolt against the French was not aiming at attaining freedom and independence for Syria, but actually to re-join Syria to the Turkish state. The fact that Hanano also struggled heroically against the Turks prior to the French occupation of Syria did not carry weight with Watenpaugh's analysis.
Despite my misgivings, I still believe the book to be of great significance and an important addition to the study of the socio-political history of Syria in the early decades of the twentieth century. Whether I agree or disagree with some of his conclusions does not mean that I have not found the book to be a remarkable piece of scholarship, and an indispensable read for any student of the evolution of modern Syria.
October 25, 2008 in Artists from Syria | Permalink
From Mallorca we headed to Barcelona to spend four days in this marvelous city. Gaudi Gran Via and the La Rambla alone are enough to call Barcelona a city of wonders, what then if you add all the other splendors of this most enchanting city? Only after visiting Barcelona can we say that now we know Spain. Our previous trip to Madrid, Andalusia, and the Costa del Sol only gave us part of the picture. Mallorca followed by Barcelona gave us the true sense of colorful Spain.
October 25, 2008 in Life, Culture, and Politics | Permalink
October 25, 2008 in Artists from Syria | Permalink
October 17, 2008 in Artists from Syria | Permalink
October 09, 2008 in Artists from Syria | Permalink
October 09, 2008 in Life, Culture, and Politics | Permalink
October 09, 2008 in Artists from Syria | Permalink
My summer vacation always offers me the best opportunity to catch up with my back load of books which I had no time to read during the year. So, in addition to the book I was currently reading, Le Dernier Ange by Robert de Goulaine, I took with me a number of books planning to finish them before I return to America. However, while in Damascus, a visit to the annual book fair at the Assad National Library ended up with purchasing even more books than I can possibly read during two or three vacations to come. This is the syndrome of intellectual greed: deluding yourself to believe that you can really read more books than you practically can ever do. Back to my summer reading; I would say that with the one exception of Le Dernier Ange, all the other books I read were autobiographies of Arab political figures – a political vacation par excellence.
I started with the autobiography of Lutfi al-Haffar, who became the Prime Minister of Syria in 1939 for a short while, and also served as a cabinet minister holding various portfolios. His autobiography further illuminates a glorious phase in the history of modern Syria during the struggle to gain independence from the French mandate. However, the one great achievement by Lutfi al-Haffar that will always be remembered by Damascenes was his life-long dedication to bringing fresh potable water to his beloved city. He almost single-handedly was behind the establishment of the Ain al-Fijeh project. Today, the water of Ain al-Fijeh has become an integral symbol of Damascus, and his life story is a good example of how politicians should limit their lives and deeds to pure politics, but most importantly, should leave behind them a legacy that benefits their nation, and give pride to their descendents. By the way, Lutfi al-Haffar is the father of Salma al-Haffar al-Kuzbari, the renowned writer and literary figure whose reputation has probably exceeded that of her father despite the fact that more people drink today the water he brought than those who read the books she wrote.
Next, I read the deeply moving and equally disturbing memoirs of Juliet al-Meer Sa'adeh, also known as the First Lady-Dean (al-amina al-oula) of the Syrian National Social Party. It is the story of a young nurse of Arab descent from Argentina who fell under the spell of the mega-charismatic Leader (za’im) Anton Sa’adeh, became a member of his party, loved him, married him, suffered with him, and suffered for him. Her ordeal dramatically increased after he was tragically killed. The book as a whole sheds light on the personality and character of some remarkable figures in Syria’s modern history, but it is also an unintentional condemnation of the messy politics that have infected Syria in that critical juncture of her evolution as a state and nation.
The third book I read with great interest and pleasure was the autobiography of Mansur Sultan al-Atrash, the son of the legendary Druze leader Sultan Basha al-Atrash who led the Great Syrian Revolution of 1925. Mansur himself was one of the early Ba’athist leaders in Syria and served as cabinet minister and revolutionary council member several times. His memoirs are rich with details and anecdotes about his childhood and youth in both Jabal al-Arab and Damascus, his student years in France, his membership in the Baáth Party, his struggles against the French and then the Shishakli regime, as well as his relations with the historic founders of the Ba’ath Michele Aflaq and Salah el-Deen al-Bitar. Mansur’s daughter, Reem al-Atrash edited her father’s memoirs with care and love and presented it as an important testament to our generation.
After the excellent Attrash memoirs, I fell on a really bad book. Abdullah Hanna’s history of the beginnings of the communist party in Syria and its historic leaders had some added value from the informative perspective, but as a book, I found it to be incoherent, unorganized, and totally lacking a conceptual approach and a consistent narrative.
Finally I arrive to the captivating memoirs of Muhsen al-Aini, the former Prime Minister of Yemen, and a man of remarkable standing in the modern Arab political scene. Needless to say, I have a very keen interest in Yemen that borders on the infatuation, and I have read all major works written about the making of the modern republican Yemen. However, this is the best book as of yet that I have read coming from a Yemeni writer. Al-Aini’s memoirs did not only shed light on the revolutionary years of Yemen and the early stages of the new-born republic, but they also provide a rare insight on inter-Arab relations, rivalries, and petty enmities. Most importantly, they reveal a lot about the relations between Yemen and the late Egyptian leader Gamal Abdul Nasser. On reading about the troubles that Aini and his colleagues had dealing with the acolytes of Nasser, one is stricken by the similarity of the Syrian and Yemeni experiences vis-à-vis Nasser’s men. It is tragic how such a historic figure like Nasser would be surrounded by men that did everything possible, intentionally or otherwise, to undermine his achievements and tarnish his record.
Since all these books constituted an intense political dose, I found equilibrium by balancing them with a book I was reading in parallel to these memoirs: a novel in French by Robert de Goulaine which took me to a dazzling universe of stylishness, and artistic bohemian living. It is a fascinating book worth reading for its own merits, but I was particularly grateful that it offered me an antidote to the ‘other’ books - alternating between our harsh political realities, and the most exquisite French corporal, natural and culinary delights. The novel tells the story of Vincent, a young man who befriends and becomes totally influenced by an older artist, Alban, he even falls in love with the same woman Alban loves, Solana, and is also attracted to Isabelle, Alban's mistress. Its is a story of how Alban's life spirals down to its tragic end, and the great impact left on Vincent who attempts to pull his own life back together and regain some sort of normalcy. Le Dernier Ange also follows the best Proustian traditions of the French novel, in which style, evocation, description of the habitat and landscape are integral part of the novel and equally important as the plot and characters are.