This excerpt is taken from On the Path of the Ghoul: The Memoirs of Sliman Mansour, a biography by Rana Anani. The original Arabic text is available here. Presented below is the English translation of the book’s introduction.
This book is based on a series of
extensive recorded interviews I conducted with the artist Suleiman
Mansour between the summer of 2020 and the winter of 2023. His detailed
responses to my questions have been shaped into a memoir told in his own
voice. It traces the course of his artistic career while also exploring
his childhood, upbringing, and family life. It follows his engagement,
as both an artist and activist, with the history of modern Palestinian
art, and concludes with reflections on the issues that have shaped and
inspired his work throughout a career spanning more than five decades.
In writing Suleiman Mansour's memoir, I
sought to bring together an account of his artistic career with an
exploration of the historical and political contexts that shaped his
life and work. I hoped the book would bring marginalized stories to
light while offering an opportunity to revisit aspects of Palestinian
history through the emergence and development of the visual arts. The
narrative draws on extensive interviews with Mansour, as well as
research into available archives, to deepen the story and illuminate the
historical and political context of his artistic journey. I have also
used footnotes to provide additional context, clarify particular events,
and shed light on the broader circumstances surrounding the artist's
experiences.
I have known Mansour since childhood, when
he was a close friend of my father's. I remember him as a humble and
kind man: tall, with a blond beard, he would visit our home as though he
were a member of the family. He is gentle and warm-hearted, with a
strong presence, a lively spirit, and a deep love of people,
exploration, and adventure. He was not always present at the Artists'
League meetings, which were held on the glass-enclosed balcony of our
home on Nablus Street in Al-Bireh, but he helped my father and other
artists plan and organize exhibitions. As a child, I would listen to the
heated discussions that animated their meetings, punctuated by laughter
and conversations full of boundless enthusiasm. The gatherings often
ended with clouds of white smoke lingering in the air, the sweet,
lingering scent of tobacco from the pipes some of the artists habitually
smoked, and ashtrays overflowing with ash and cigarette butts. Those
years saw the founding of the Palestinian Artists' League, an
organization that brought together artists from across Palestine and
maintained close ties with the Palestinian national movement, both
inside Palestine and abroad, at a time when both the movement and the
League were at the height of their activity.1
While conducting the interviews for this
book, I revisited many memories of the founding of the Palestinian
Artists' League and the artistic movement, although much of what I
remembered was hazy. My conversations with Mansour brought back people
who have since passed away and events that had left a deep impression on
me, witnessed through the eyes of a child who understood little of what
was happening around her. The experience also gave me an opportunity to
get to know Mansour's life more intimately. Living alongside someone
for much of your life does not necessarily mean knowing the details of
their story; I had to scratch beneath the surface to discover more.
The book begins with Mansour's childhood
in the countryside around Birzeit, tracing the course of his life
following the loss of his father. He recounts the hardships of those
years with a sense of humor and lightness, perhaps as a way of coming to
terms with and healing those early wounds. He reflects on the many
encounters that left a lasting impression on him and expresses a deep
gratitude for life, taking care to remember the kindness and generosity
of those who helped him endure and move forward.
Mansour recalls his childhood in the
countryside around Birzeit with great enthusiasm, from playing in the
fields and swimming in the reservoirs during the summer to taking part
in religious and social rituals. His memories convey a deep connection
to the land and the people who lived on it. As the reader will see,
Mansour's rural Palestinian upbringing had a profound influence on his
later understanding of art and life. The hardships he experienced during
those years became formative lessons that shaped his character and
ambitions, ultimately helping to set him on the path toward the person
he would become.
Had his life not taken an unexpected turn,
Mansour might have grown up to be an ordinary farmer, living a
traditional life in the countryside around Birzeit and working the land
alongside his father. Instead, his sudden move to a boarding school for
orphans in Bethlehem forced him to become self-reliant in circumstances
where money and care were scarce. Yet this new life also offered him an
opportunity he might otherwise never have encountered: to discover art
firsthand through his German teacher, Felix Theis, who recognized his
talent, took him under his wing, and devoted himself to nurturing his
artistic abilities.
When Israel occupied the rest of Palestine
in 1967, Mansour sought a scholarship to study in the United States,
where most of his family lived. Instead, he found himself at the Bezalel
Academy of Arts in West Jerusalem, becoming the first Palestinian from
East Jerusalem to study art there. He did not fully grasp the
significance of this distinction until he was accused of burning down
the college library, — a charge rooted explicitly in racial prejudice.
Mansour's political consciousness took
shape gradually, coming fully into focus in the early 1970s. Around the
same time, he began meeting with Palestinian artists who had previously
worked largely on their own. These meetings eventually brought the
artists together and led to the founding of the Palestinian Artists'
League.
This biography offers Mansour's firsthand
account of the emergence of the visual arts movement in the occupied
Palestinian territories during the 1970s and 1980s, the period he
remembers most fondly. He recounts how artists came together under the
umbrella of the Palestinian Artists' League, forged close ties with the
national movement, and sought to give their art greater meaning and
purpose by connecting it to the Palestinian cause. Mansour describes
how, during this period, artistic expression and national activism
became increasingly intertwined, as artists worked to preserve
Palestinian identity, express resistance to the Israeli occupation, and
give voice to their aspirations for freedom through their art.
Mansour belonged to an exceptional
generation of artists, writers, and poets who helped inspire the
Palestinian national struggle in its early stages. They witnessed the
occupation of Palestine and the difficult circumstances that followed
for Palestinians from all walks of life. But they were also agents of
change who played an active role in shaping national consciousness.
These creative figures brought together artistic expression and
political commitment, producing art and literature of resistance that
spoke to a people striving for liberation and resisting attempts to
erase their identity.
Mansour was part of this broader artistic
and cultural movement, which played a central role in inspiring the
Palestinian national struggle in its early years. His work was an
expression of a larger cause, inspiring which inspired generations of Palestinians and helped sustain a spirit of resilience and resistance.
Mansour became widely known in Palestine and throughout the Arab world through his painting Camel of Hardships,
which he created in 1973 and repainted twice, introducing new elements
each time. The painting was inspired by the porters he encountered in
the streets of Jerusalem whenever he passed through the Old City. Its
widespread circulation was aided by the decision of Salah al-Din
Bookshop and Ibn Rushd Press to reproduce it as a poster and sell and
distribute it at affordable prices, allowing people to purchase copies and hang them in their homes.
Despite the painting's fame and its importance to his artistic career, Mansour did not like being known primarily through Camel of Hardships.
He felt that its prominence had overshadowed his other work for many
years, depriving those works of the recognition they deserved.
Nevertheless, he... READ MORE https://www.palestine-studies.org/en/node/1659656
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