A pearl diver lies in tortured repose against the battered remains of a ship. Ropes pierce his body and keep him bound to the vessel, while the hungry eyes of gulls watch him from the mast. This is a taut, savage and sensual world, and it belongs to Abdulla Al-Muharraqi, arguably the Gulf’s most famous living artist.
Muharraqi is defined by self-reinvention. Nearing 70, this new exhibition, organised by the Abu Dhabi Music and Arts Foundation, reveals how the Bahrain-born artist has delved far into realism, the realms of fantasy and even veered close, early on, to a surrealism with the look of a psychedelic album cover. But the influence of Picasso is unmistakable – Muharraqi’s paintings are often in cubist territory. As the Picasso retrospective rolls on at Emirates Palace, it’s fitting to ask Muharraqi about the Spanish artist’s influence on his style. ‘Pablo Picasso was and still is one of the most influential artists on my art,’ he explains. ‘What I wanted to take from him is his constant reinvention.’
Like Picasso, Muharraqi’s style has evolved continually in his career, yet there’s not one clear line of progression we can chart in his work. Various influences play throughout; some materialise to illuminate one image, only to disappear again as the artist sees fit. The same goes for the fantastical realism that typifies so much of his work, and recent paintings reveal clear stylistic links with the earlier half of his career. ‘I have to keep changing and reinventing,’ he says. ‘I have to keep myself excited every time I pick up a brush.’
The artist may have defined himself by change and jumping headlong into these European movements in art, but like his diver Muharraqi remains bound to the region. ‘Bahrain has a rich culture, and one of its main themes is the pearl divers. My father was a sea captain, and my uncles were pearl divers, so I spent most of my youth on fishing boats and merchant ships,’ he explains. ‘We learn from our history, and these pearl divers passed on to their children and grandchildren strength, patience, perseverance, the value of making a living, and strong family values amongst other things.’
This sense of personal endurance is branded onto Muharraqi’s work, and nowhere more evident than in his depiction of these pearl divers. His subjects appear rapt by their suffering, heads are thrown back in a state close to exultation. ‘I’m trying to invoke an emotion from the viewer,’ he explains. ‘When you see and feel the diver’s situation – their pain, their misery, their loss, their hurt and even their joy – if it triggers a similar emotion or reminds you of other tragedies and triumphs, I will have achieved what I was aiming for.’ Even the composition of a scene takes on an epic atmosphere with Muharraqi’s eye. His cubist influence gives an effect reminiscent of a stained-glass window, and this flat two-dimensional style at times reaches something close to a cave drawing.
There is, however, a tension in Muharraqi’s career. On one side, the ever-prolific artist has designed Bahraini postage stamps, the UAE’s current logo, and been regularly called in to sketch kings, princes and presidents (as well as the occasional queen of England). Yet a quick look over Muharraqi’s past works reveal the character of a wholly different artist. They speak of a staggering uncertainty for the future of the region – some paintings bear titles that may be considered controversial, and iconic symbols of Arab culture like horsemanship are often presented in a difficult, critical light.
His subjects appear bound to an often violent history, while some occupy a surreal space, isolated from reality by that history. And let’s not forget, the root of a big portion of Muharraqi’s fame amongst Bahrainis has been down to the twice daily political caricatures he’s produced for the Akhbar Al Khaleej newspaper since the 70s.
This all builds into a confused, contrasting image of how we interpret the artist and his work as two entities. On the one hand, Muharraqi is the satirist and visionary engaging with modern Arabia, and on the other a state-oriented artist designing postage stamps and portraits for the kingdom. The artist is insistent that it’s always been a privilege to be involved with these projects, so how can we reconcile such an optimistic character with a style so often racked by violence, fear and critical uncertainty?
Asked if he still paints, the artist’s response rings volumes of what we can gleam about his overall outlook. ‘Of course!’ he reveals. ‘Creating works of art rejuvenates me. Diverse emotions are vented through my paintings. For example, I want my paintings to reflect the pride and love I have for my country. I’m a part of this land, and my art must not be far from this artistic expression. Like a tree, roots are very important.’
Perhaps we can read something of this in the exalted appearance of Muharraqi’s divers. For better or worse, the artist is bound to the land, simultaneously at pains to free himself from the burden of history and engage with ideas of modernism, while at the same time offering a glimpse of something eternal that only the pains of history can teach. Either way, Muharraqi remains a towering figure in Gulf art. Abu Dhabi has two great masters in town right now.
Abdulla Al-Muharraqi’s work is at Ghaf Gallery (02 665 5332) until August 17.
