Growing up between Saudi Arabia and Sudan, Amel Bashier needed exceptional determination to make it as a woman artist. She had few female role models during her breakthrough years on the Sudanese art scene, but a quest for self-expression urged her onward. After exhibitions in Khartoum, Sharjah, Nairobi, Cairo, Dubai, Paris, and London, Bashier’s contemplative paintings of women will debut in New York this spring at the Independent art fair, presented by Addis Fine Art. The artist, now based in France, portrays female figures who radiate strength and self-possession, traits that she saw in her close family and in her distant ancestors: the queens of ancient Nubia. In this interview, which has been translated from the original Arabic and edited for clarity, she discusses formative memories from her childhood, the feminist struggles that inspire much of her work, and the central message of peace explored in her recent paintings.
Amel Bashier, Untitled IV, 2023, Courtesy the artist and Addis Fine Art
“Art is my window to freedom in a world that is full of taboos. I was born in Jeddah in a period when the extremist current prevailed, in the days of the Islamic regime. Everything that the soul desires in the world of art, such as music and drawing, was forbidden.
I spent my childhood moving between Jeddah and Port Sudan on the Red Sea. I was in close contact with my family, my roots. I come from multiple nationalities and tribes, each with their own traditions and customs. When we visited our relatives at home, I noticed the smell of incense, the colors, the flavors of food, and even the language.
My father was from Dongola in northern Sudan, the heart of ancient Nubian civilization. My maternal grandfather was from India. Despite his great love for Sudan, he preserved the traditions of Indian attire, of speaking Hindi, and eating Indian food. When my mother’s relatives visited, it was as if they were living in a miniature India in Sudan. My mother’s mother was from the Hadendoa tribe of eastern Sudan. The lyrics of their songs express their courage, their beautiful women, and their pride in them.
The mixture of all these cultural backgrounds stored in my memory many scenes that inadvertently slipped into my paintings. I am always told that my paintings are Persian or Indian in nature: a mixture of Persian inscriptions and motifs and African features.
Even my university professors pointed this out to me. At that time, university education for girls in the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia was limited to a few disciplines. So when I graduated from high school, I traveled to study at the Khartoum College of Applied Studies in the faculty of interior design.
Women are the inexhaustible source of inspiration for my paintings. Women in all their situations: in strength, in brokenness, in sadness, and in struggle. For much of my life, I have lived with women who were struggling to obtain basic rights.
I am descended from the queens of ancient Nubia. These women inspire me at the height of their strength, justice, and courage, which passes through to the role of women in the present day. For example, women played a great role in the Sudanese revolution in 2019.
From my first year of university, I started looking for places to display my paintings and my perspectives to the world. It was difficult as a woman to find galleries suitable for what I was presenting in my work, without judgment from society.
The activity of Sudanese female artists was very low, due to the marginalization of Sudanese women. I believed that every woman should express what goes through her mind about her situation and her rights. Art was a space in which I could express my opinions, my existence, and my desires. It was a place where I could be free.
Books, birds, plants, and trees are some of the elements that recur in my paintings. One of my favorite symbols is the hoopoe: this bird is rebellious, proud, and travels long distances alone. I like to add the hoopoe to my paintings as a symbol of women’s love for freedom.
Amel Bashier, Courtesy of Addis Fine Art
Black and white have dominated my artistic career. Perhaps it is an escape from the noise of color. Of course, like any artist from Africa, my life was rich in colors—the sun of Africa, the soil, and the atmosphere. My paintings were rich in those colors in the beginning. But black ink quickly drew me in. I am still attracted to the magic of the pen. After the brush I make the final touches on my paintings with a pen.
Practicing a style itself is fun, regardless of the tools we use. It is a state of rapture. It is as if the artist is listening to an old song, to all of its mirth and melodies, but in her own language. She is painting, and instead of the song being audible, it turns into a visual.
I am constantly seeking to grow and to explore new ideas through my work. My latest paintings investigate the complexity of human relationships, and the emotions that are born from them—whether it be anger, pain, strength, or joy. In a new piece titled At the negotiating table, childhood dies, I address the injustice of children losing their lives in war. I hope my art gives others the opportunity to reflect on these painful but important realities.”