While my work is deeply rooted in the Palestinian context, it resonates universally with those who empathise with the human condition and have experienced the forces of imperialism and colonialism. By affirming these experiences through my art, I aim to raise empathy and understanding across different cultures and histories.
Restoring Palestine’s Hidden Narratives: The Art of Resistance | Hazem Harb
Hazem Harb is a visual artist born and raised in Gaza, Palestine. Through his work, he aims to restore the collective memory of his land, where community and culture once thrived.
In 2005, he moved to Rome, Italy, to study art and develop his practice. Currently based in Dubai, Hazem’s journey as an artist transcends borders and serves as a carrier for the story of his motherland; he addresses Palestinian narratives with a universal approach.
As an avid collector of artefacts and stories from the pre-Nakba period, Hazem creates thoroughly researched artworks that bring past human experiences from Palestine to the present day, evoking a deep sense of familiarity, belonging, connection and longing for the land.
Themes of diaspora and displacement find strong roots in his work, shining a light on the ongoing immigration crisis and concealed forms of colonisation.
You grew up in Gaza. How was your childhood?
My childhood in Gaza was rich with inspiration despite the ever-present backdrop of occupation.
I explored my community with an artistic eye, drawing from the patterned textiles in our home, my mother’s work as a seamstress, the bustling markets, and the stunning landscapes and soft architecture. These elements, along with the supportive community and the creative environment at the YMCA in Gaza, were instrumental in my development as an artist. My experiences there laid the foundation for my journey, which later took me to Italy for further studies.
How do you feel about the present-day children of Palestine?
It’s incredibly painful to witness the horrors inflicted upon Palestinian children in recent months. The scale of the genocide and the suffering is beyond words. The loss and violence are immeasurable and deeply tragic.
‘Gauze’ is a translucent material that hides and heals wounds. What role has Gauze played in your personal journey as an artist?
Gauze has been a significant medium in my art, originating from Gaza and symbolising my national and cultural identity. I began using it in 2004, experimenting with it as both a sculpting material and a canvas. It became a means of personal resistance, reflecting the suffering of my people. Over the years, gauze has continued to be significant in my work, such as in the Burned Bodies (2008) video installation during my studies in Rome. It features prominently in my recent solo exhibition, Gauze, at Tabari Artspace, where it helped to express the untold stories and the genocide impacting my people. This material allows me to present the Palestinian experience as a collective narrative.
The ongoing war and genocide reflect colonial principles of exploiting people and the planet. There is a false hierarchy here that benefits from denying culture, community, and identity. Through your collages, you have been sharing stories, pictures, maps, and objects from pre-Nakba Palestine. Could you shed some light on how acknowledging collective memory is fundamental for decolonizing the past, present, and future?
Suppressing histories and cultures is a hegemonic strategy that facilitates dominance and erasure. My art challenges this by remediating materials I view as artefacts of the Palestinian experience, asserting our realities despite attempts to deny them. Contemporary art connects with global audiences, raising awareness and understanding, serving as my soft power and mode of resistance.
What is the meaning behind the colours and geometric objects in your collage?
The colours and geometric forms in my collages act as interventions, disrupting archival materials and reinserting them into the contemporary moment. They provoke viewers to question and understand the narrative anew, reclaiming and shifting the story.
‘Power Does Not Defeat Memory’—what a striking title. It evokes sentiments of resilience. What’s the story behind this series and the title?
This series underscores the idea that despite efforts to erase our social and cultural presence, the Palestinian experience and memory endure. It highlights our resilience in the face of systematic erasure.
The concrete contaminates the natural landscape, metaphorically blocking the city or perhaps even memory in your series, Archaeology of Occupation. What role does architecture play in shaping the visible and invisible?
In my series Archaeology of Occupation, concrete metaphorically contaminates the natural landscape, representing an attempt to block memory.
Architecture plays a crucial role in shaping both the visible and invisible aspects of our society. The imposition of concrete contrasts with the pastoral landscapes and soft stone of Jerusalem, symbolising visual imperialism and cultural erasure. It suggests that occupation manifests not only through violence but also through subtle, subliminal means.
Your artwork since October 2023 has become more personal in terms of realisation. ‘Gauze’ and ‘Dystopia Is Not a Noun’ have both been created with hands, requiring closer proximity between you and your creation. Is this a mere coincidence?
The new works in this exhibition, using charcoal and gauze, reflect a return to my expressionistic roots from my time in Gaza. These works are visceral and bodily, synthesising the anguish of recent months. This hands-on approach is not a coincidence but a deliberate reconnection with my past artistic methods, creating a continuum that bridges my personal history and collective narrative offering me a bodily connection to the experiences of my people.
There is an urgent need. How can we, as individuals, contribute to supporting the Palestinian community? What message would you like to share with our readers?
Amplify Palestinian voices, resist oppression, and use your platforms to advocate for justice. Keep the conversation alive, stand in solidarity, and act with humanity. Use whatever power and platform you have to show support for the Palestinian people and speak for those who are suppressed.
We all live in an interconnected ecosystem. Our stories are inseparable. Do you consider your creations to have this universal approach?
While my work is deeply rooted in the Palestinian context, it resonates universally with those who empathise with the humancondition and have experienced the forces of imperialism and colonialism.
By affirming these experiences through my art, I aim to raise empathy and understanding across different cultures and histories.