MUST_SEE: Gaza-Graffiti Is Watching You

Gaza: Graffiti Is Watching You

Malika Malini

Palestine Monitor , June 14, 2010

Mia Grondahl’s exhibit entitled "Gaza Graffiti: Messages of Love and Politics" toured the West bank in the last few months. Mia spent seven years – most of the Second Intifada - documenting graffiti and murals in the Strip. Her photos tell us about the many roles of graffiti in Gaza.

Even being gifted with a vivid imagination, it requires some effort to picture Gaza as an open air art gallery in the hands of the artists. Many foreign visitors to the Gaza Strip mention the grey colour that dominates this most densely populated area on the planet. The ongoing blockade that has imprisoned 1.5 million Palestinians for the past four years and the terrible devastation left on the ground by Operation Cats Lead have added exponentially to that dreariness.

Nevertheless, mural paintings in Gaza are like dancing creatures that enliven the miserable grey-ness of the Strip. That is what comes through in the photographs taken by Mia Grondahl, a Swedish photojournalist who has been reporting on the Middle East for over 30 years. Her interest in graffiti is a recently-born passion. During the Second Intifada she became an attentive observer, capturing the colorful calligraphy which adorns the streets and boulevards in Gaza. Mia arrived in Gaza for the first time in 1993 but priorities in that period were different. Graffiti was a marginal phenomenon compared to the more urgent problems of the Strip and its population. Ten years later, she started to take shots of graffiti, at first just occasionally but later with a scientific scrupulousness: graffiti became her angle for interpreting the social and political dynamics in Gaza.

"When you enter Gaza, the first thing that attracts attention is graffiti," says Mia. "You can’t resist. The walls are saying: ’Look at us. Read our messages!’"

Mia began investigating murals as a form of art: she documented calligraphic signs, then she interpreted the messages and decoded the contents. She catalogued graffiti in several sections: political slogans, pure calligraphy, and social announcements of community events (weddings, funerals, Hajjpilgrimages, etc.). Then she turned her attention to portraits of rais orshaheed, the martyrs, as Palestinians call those who have been killed or have given their lives for the resistance.

Mural writing narrates Gaza’s moods and reports its sadness, pain and tragedy, but even more strikingly, it highlights the perseverance and resistance of a population that ceaselessly endeavors to survive. Mia calls it "a means of expression which covers all the ranges of emotions, from life to death." Graffiti is instinctive participation in the articulation of a coral message.

"Approximately 1500..." is a 30 meter long anti-war mural painted by 25 young artists in Gaza. The war against Gaza killed ca 1400 people, 431 children were among the victims. 5038 people were injured, 411 of them badly. The artists painted their own experiences from the war: "We hope the mural will encourage people to say "It’s enough

Graffiti’s phenomenon

Graffiti in Gaza is not the product of underground culture. Beginning in the 80s, when there wasn’t any Internet of Facebook, Palestinians used walls to leave their messages and graffiti was a means to communicate with people, announcing strikes or meetings. It was also used to spread political propaganda and, as with the kefiah, spray paint colours became associated with political factions: green for Hamas, black for Fatah and red for the left wing factions.

Graffiti’s phenomenal presence has never disappeared from the Strip or the West Bank. During the First Intifada it was used as a tool of fighting the Israeli occupation and writers acted under the risk of being arrested by Israeli troops. In 2000, with the onset of the Second Intifada, it experienced a new wave, adopting new colours and shapes.

In 2003, the Palestinian Authority tried to delete part of this colorful universe, following an agreement between Abu Mazen and Israeli authorities: several murals were erased from the walls of Omar bin al-Mukthar street, one of the main arteries of Gaza City. But the operation was not at all successful and graffiti soon blossomed into the pages where the daily history of Gazans has been written. Nowadays as in the past, messages of every kind cover walls and lampposts, adorning the streets of Gaza.

"What is the difference between graffiti in Gaza and in the Western world?," I asked Mia. "Graffiti in the Western world represents mainly a product by an individual, in order to show to the public opinion ’I am here, I exist, this is my message, my art, she said. "But in Gaza, graffiti is a collective message, from a political faction, a part of the community, a family." Mia points to the example of graffiti portraits of shaeed: "Portraying a shaheed is not only a means to commemorate him, it is also a message given by his family to the whole community, saying ’We lost a member of us, we did our sacrifice, don’t ask us anything else.’"

The photo exhibit moved to Gaza at the beginning of May, unfortunately with a regrettable epilogue. The Ministry of Culture of the de facto government of Hamas issued a permit for the exhibit to be organised at Al-Itthad, a popular gallery in Gaza City. At the last minute the Ministry changed its mind about several activities, cancelling a rap concert and a female dabke dance. Four days later, Hamas agents entered the gallery where Mia Grondahl’s photos were on exhibit and harassed customers, arresting the owner, Jamal Abu Al-Qumsan, for additional interrogations. During his detention, he was asked why he had conducted a photo exhibit 'without a permit’.

Gaza Graffiti opens in Cairo and Amman this autumn. The exhibition was realised with the support of the Swedish INternational Development Agency (Sida) and PGS (the Palestine Solidarity Association of Sweden).

Article written by Malika Malini.