In a serious move to break the isolation of plastic artsMurals meet common people [Archives:2005/905/Culture]
December 22 2005
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Ibb, the city shrouded in grass. It is its summer that seems not to have forsaken it yet despite the fact that we are well in winter. It is so: the ecstasy of color that bestows on the place a special flavor and taste. “These are murals that were his eyes,” if Shakespeare could forgive the manipulation. The murals are butterflies flying out of the Art House, hovering “by guess and hope and hopelessness” to perch on the walls of the old city, adding their magical touch to the already magic-charged air.
You see them when you delve for the first time you step into that realm where you can contemplate old houses, souqs (old markets) with ancient small shops and people almost jammed into the place. In the old city of Ibb, one is faced with buildings with unique architectural characteristics although a few concrete habitats can be discerned here and there. It is now noontime or a little bit afternoon. This is a narrow alley overcrowded showing the magnitude of the peak hour. With little effort you can know that it is lunchtime. Nearby restaurants are full. You need no sign to recognize restaurants in Ibb, as they all look the same. Actually, when one has a specific destination, despite lack of knowledge of its specific location, he/she would not pay any attention to insignificant observations on the quest such as the day to day images of people and places.
However, what appears to be important is the gathering of people in small scattered groups gazing at things they deem are worth pausing for a while. They contemplate them voicing comments that sometimes are homogenous and others heterogeneous. Nevertheless, what matters much is that all of them do experience \”astonishment\””. Some twelve murals lead you to their makers all of whom stated that this artistic project is one of the fruits of the Ibb-based Art House. This house represented for these artists the nucleus
