Sheba Arts Digital Festival June-September 2020
'Situation Number One'
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The Performance of Subconscious Acts
Anahita Khani
Making A Shadow Puppet Theatre - Rowan Szulek
A Dialogue of Colours and Stones
Miro Mardokhy
'SELF-ISOLATION IN A REFUGEE CAMP'
Beena Nouri
'This piece brings together the plight of refugees living in camps through the coronavirus pandemic.
Refugees are particularly at risk during this outbreak due to the lack of sanitation in many camps. Many have limited access to water, sanitation systems and health facilities. In some shelters, people share overcrowded housing, kitchens and toilets making it impossible to socially distance and self-isolate. Moria Camp in Lesbos is an example of this, housing 20,000 people in a space designed for 3,000.
In the early months of the pandemic, it became very difficult for refugees to receive access to healthcare, food and water. The border closures left many without help from charities and some were forced to starve whilst waiting for donations to arrive.
Refugees are oftentimes described or perceived as swarms and are dehumanised. When creating this painting, I wanted to portray the normality of these people and their daily activities, showing that these people are humans and livelihoods. I also wanted to highlight the daily tasks that are essential yet put refugees in such a big health risk. For example, going to the toilet, getting water or cooking a meal.'
Beena Nouri
'This piece brings together the plight of refugees living in camps through the coronavirus pandemic.
Refugees are particularly at risk during this outbreak due to the lack of sanitation in many camps. Many have limited access to water, sanitation systems and health facilities. In some shelters, people share overcrowded housing, kitchens and toilets making it impossible to socially distance and self-isolate. Moria Camp in Lesbos is an example of this, housing 20,000 people in a space designed for 3,000.
In the early months of the pandemic, it became very difficult for refugees to receive access to healthcare, food and water. The border closures left many without help from charities and some were forced to starve whilst waiting for donations to arrive.
Refugees are oftentimes described or perceived as swarms and are dehumanised. When creating this painting, I wanted to portray the normality of these people and their daily activities, showing that these people are humans and livelihoods. I also wanted to highlight the daily tasks that are essential yet put refugees in such a big health risk. For example, going to the toilet, getting water or cooking a meal.'
'PATTERED FACES'
Ibukun Baldwin
'I’ve been really struck by how the whole world has been humbled and united by a joint crisis which has taken everyone by surprise. I know that people all over the world have been going through the same unease, unrest and fear I have on account of covid-19, and this has led to the world feeling smaller to me than it ever has. Even more recently with the killing of George Floyd and the black lives matter protests, as a black artist I have felt moved by the unprecedented global support. I feel the covid crisis had a big part to play in bringing people together as in this time people are using social media more than ever as a method of communication. I really want this piece to celebrate people coming together from all over the world, transcending race, language, gender, even time differences to find a common ground; an ode to diversity.'
Ibukun Baldwin
'I’ve been really struck by how the whole world has been humbled and united by a joint crisis which has taken everyone by surprise. I know that people all over the world have been going through the same unease, unrest and fear I have on account of covid-19, and this has led to the world feeling smaller to me than it ever has. Even more recently with the killing of George Floyd and the black lives matter protests, as a black artist I have felt moved by the unprecedented global support. I feel the covid crisis had a big part to play in bringing people together as in this time people are using social media more than ever as a method of communication. I really want this piece to celebrate people coming together from all over the world, transcending race, language, gender, even time differences to find a common ground; an ode to diversity.'
WHERE DOES IT LEAVE ME?
Ania Pankiewicz
As the recent events of brutal killing of an unarmed man - George Floyd in America by police resonated throughout the
world. The Black Lives Matter movement comes to the forefront with wide protests across many countries including UK.
Despite current corona virus thousands march in unity against what is called institutional and structural racism.
But how do mix raced and immigrant members of our society stand in all of this?
I AM THE VOICE OF TOMORROW
Farheen Raja
THE WHY
Emmanuel Bajiiji
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ONE DAY WE WILL MEET AGAIN
Kamal Mardokhy
Amang Mardokhy is a Kurdish visual artist and film maker based in Stockport. He is the founder of Culture Bridge. In 'One Day We Will Meet Again', he gives an insight into his workplace and the people he serves. In the second video he talks about bringing art into the community and the importance of finding art everywhere.
Kamal Mardokhy
Amang Mardokhy is a Kurdish visual artist and film maker based in Stockport. He is the founder of Culture Bridge. In 'One Day We Will Meet Again', he gives an insight into his workplace and the people he serves. In the second video he talks about bringing art into the community and the importance of finding art everywhere.
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THE LONGING SONG
Maryam Alsaeid
A song is long, haggard and the sea is so big
Longing is a song
So long, I swallow a mouthful of rain
And tie my sailboat with fragile string
I have become a lousy lover of walls and fabric
And the sound of voice notes pregnant with tears
I can’t remember the particular shade of blue
Beneath the eyes of you, my dear
In this voyage, in this space, I grow tired
Aching, like a creek, longing to be found by pebbles and play
So vast is my sadness the ocean is shy of its own skin
Still fragrant of home I pace tenderly
Benign like the aurora of early days
It’s weakness, I know and yet grief is so violent
Piercing the floorboards and ceiling softness
You can sit in the sailboat, if you would like
Wet cheeks from sleeping sideways and my sweet escape
Escapade makes the stranger make
Makes the stranger make, you see
Mahogany prints and purpose in
The berry stained smile, it leaks truth and
The smell of sincerity
I stare outside and say
Oh you look like all of the love I could not give
And you smell like need
Those tyrants do not marry well together
A lover’s agony is a collapsing lung
The clanking pots cleave and drain
Compassionate rain, that soaks my clothes
So I hang them out to dry
I wander aimlessly and the streets look hungry
Morose orphan child, I hold out for an apology
I open my lotus hands, like a lord letter
And they hand me a cup of hot and heavy love
I smell the rose as it blooms in the
Styrofoam cup
The migrant carries the wet wool smell
And the right to be here
The refugee is a citizen, a citizen
Says who?
Says me
Untethered by abandonment and disloyalty
I peer at the rose as it blooms
In the Styrofoam cup
Is my integrity enough,
Have I not been through so much and come out so thin?
I hand my porous eyes back to the Lord of succulent sky
And pray for hands that pray
I taste the petals of the rose
In the Styrofoam cup
And it tastes like muttered goodbyes
The wind whispers on long silent faces
Fleshy and tender So pink it could rupture
And dye this forlorn sea
Longing is a song
Haggard.
Longing is a song, and the sea is so big
The bottom of the cup empties
And I fill it with my mouthful of rain
Longing is a song
So long, I swallow a mouthful of rain
And tie my sailboat with fragile string
I have become a lousy lover of walls and fabric
And the sound of voice notes pregnant with tears
I can’t remember the particular shade of blue
Beneath the eyes of you, my dear
In this voyage, in this space, I grow tired
Aching, like a creek, longing to be found by pebbles and play
So vast is my sadness the ocean is shy of its own skin
Still fragrant of home I pace tenderly
Benign like the aurora of early days
It’s weakness, I know and yet grief is so violent
Piercing the floorboards and ceiling softness
You can sit in the sailboat, if you would like
Wet cheeks from sleeping sideways and my sweet escape
Escapade makes the stranger make
Makes the stranger make, you see
Mahogany prints and purpose in
The berry stained smile, it leaks truth and
The smell of sincerity
I stare outside and say
Oh you look like all of the love I could not give
And you smell like need
Those tyrants do not marry well together
A lover’s agony is a collapsing lung
The clanking pots cleave and drain
Compassionate rain, that soaks my clothes
So I hang them out to dry
I wander aimlessly and the streets look hungry
Morose orphan child, I hold out for an apology
I open my lotus hands, like a lord letter
And they hand me a cup of hot and heavy love
I smell the rose as it blooms in the
Styrofoam cup
The migrant carries the wet wool smell
And the right to be here
The refugee is a citizen, a citizen
Says who?
Says me
Untethered by abandonment and disloyalty
I peer at the rose as it blooms
In the Styrofoam cup
Is my integrity enough,
Have I not been through so much and come out so thin?
I hand my porous eyes back to the Lord of succulent sky
And pray for hands that pray
I taste the petals of the rose
In the Styrofoam cup
And it tastes like muttered goodbyes
The wind whispers on long silent faces
Fleshy and tender So pink it could rupture
And dye this forlorn sea
Longing is a song
Haggard.
Longing is a song, and the sea is so big
The bottom of the cup empties
And I fill it with my mouthful of rain
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