Cairo

“He who hath not seen Cairo hath not seen the world: its soil is gold; its Nile is a wonder; its houses are palaces; and its air is temperate”
The Jewish Physician, A Thousand and One Nights

I apologise for the break in blogposts last week, but as you can guess from the quote above, I’ve been on the move. My paints were packed, my little seedlings were carefully wrapped up, and we travelled north to Cairo.

View of the Citadel from Al Azhar Park , oil on canvas ©Shevaun Doherty 2009

Cairo is big, noisy, chaotic and yet utterly fascinating. From my very first visit 26 years ago, I have been inexplicably drawn to this city. It’s vibrant, exciting and full of mystery- the city of a thousand minarets. The air is no longer as sweet and fresh, but away from the traffic, the gardens are lush, and there is a wealth of history to be discovered and explored.

The view from our apartment in Cairo

Our home in Cairo is in a quiet area on the outskirts of the city, surrounded by beautiful gardens. This stay was a just short one, mainly taken up with family visits and shopping. With all the distractions going on, it was hard to find time to paint, so I concentrated instead on finishing the page of quick little studies that I started in Sharm for the Nature Sketchbook Exchange I will stick this page of Little Egyptian Treasures into Sigrid Frensen’s sketchbook when I get back to Dublin.

Checking out his portrait

Before I left Sharm I managed to rescue a large scarab beetle from the pool. What a feisty little chap! Even cooling him off in the fridge didn’t keep him quiet for long… he was determined to escape. However I couldn’t resist doing one little painting of him… I especially loved his little antennae. I’m always amazed at how observant of nature the ancient Egyptians were- their scarab beetles are quite anatomically correct.

Another scarab beetle painting with a pectoral amulet from Tutankhamun  ©Shevaun Doherty 2011

Scorpion tail, Scarab beetle, Monkey's Ear Seedpod and Coral Tree seedpod  ©Shevaun Doherty 2014

In the gardens in Cairo, I found some wonderful seedpods. The first was from the delightfully named Monkey’s Ear Tree, Enterlobium cyclocarpum. The seedpods ripen to a rich black colour, giving the tree it’s name, but I decided that an immature green seedpod would look better on the page. I also painted the very elegant seedpod of the Coral tree, Erythrina lysistemon. I love this tree- the flowers are stunning too and are always the first to bloom in spring.

Strawberry shell, gecko egg and lovebird feather

Pages like this are a great excuse to dig out the little treasures that I have found over the years. I added a tiny gecko egg, a strawberry shell (Clanculus puniceus) and a couple of feathers from a lovebird that we once had.

Sigrid has a young son called Bertus, so I thought that it would be fun to complete the page with a scorpion’s tail. I found this scorpion on a trip down the Nile a few years ago- I had to smuggle it back to Cairo because my daughters were horrified that I would want to keep it! Alas all that remains is the tail, but I think it still looks quite impressive.

The remains of the scorpion found in Kom Ombo

The completed page of  Little Egyptian Treasures  ©Shevaun Doherty 2014

Alas our trip came to an end. 

I waved a sorry goodbye to Egypt, "Om il Doonya, Mother of the World", and headed back to Dublin. What an inspiring summer it has been! I already have my return ticket for next year.

Vegetables in an Arab Spring

Often when I look at my artwork, I can vividly recall that moment in time when it was being created- where I was, conversations that I was listening too and even the emotions that I was feeling as I laid brush to paper.

Three years ago, I was in Cairo. The weather was stormy and uncertain, unusual for that that time of year. The dark clouds mirrored an uneasy feeling in the city. There was trouble in Tunisia and rumours abounded, but it all seemed so far away and so unlikely. I was more interested in getting on with my botanical art assignment for the SBA. I had just bought some purple carrots (Daucus carota)  from one of the street stalls and was looking forward to starting my sketches. 

Believe it or not, once upon a time, all carrots were purple. Although they originate from Afghanistan, purple carrots have been in Egypt for thousands of years and are even depicted on tomb walls. 

The first sign of trouble was the internet being turned off, and then the telephones.  Then the protests started. We lived in an affluent area in Cairo and we were surprised to find a small crowd on the street outside. At each building, the crowd would call up “inzil, inzil, inzil” (meaning “Come down”), and they would smile and clap and cheer as people joined them on the streets. It was all very good natured and polite. There were children and people waving flags. I went back to my painting.

Within a few hours, all hell had broken loose. Shopping centres were plundered and set on fire, the police were gone and the prisoners had all been set loose. The images that were being shown on TV were both shocking and bewildering. Cairo was in chaos. We went to bed, unsure of what would happen the next day.

The next day we woke up to the sound of army helicopters in the sky and tanks on the streets. Black smoke from fire filled the air. The mosque began to call all the men to come and defend the neighbourhood. Suddenly the streets were filled with men carrying machetes, shotguns, swords, batons, baseball bats … whatever weapon they could find. The Army began to send text messages to us all, telling people not to panic. Everyone was terrified. A curfew was set in place and people were told to close their curtains and not to venture out.  I stayed at home and painted vegetables.

Written on the side of the page- "We all have a voice"

It was a surreal and frightening few weeks. People were terrified of what might happen but with their worries came a great sense of community. People looked out for each other, shared food, swapped stories. The young men guarded the streets from attack.  Neighbours called into each other and brought dishes of hot food. There was fear, but there was enormous optimism too. 

Three years on, I find myself looking at these vegetable studies and my finished carrot painting,  and all these emotions and memories come flooding back. So much has happened since. I hope Egypt finds the peace and stability that it deserves. My Revolutionary Carrots will be submitted to the SBA this year.