CURA.

When turning to photography, Ariella Azoulay’s theoretical framework certainly revolutionizes the understanding of the ethical implications of this medium by emphasizing its intrinsic connection to historical catastrophes. She argues that photography establishes a unique relational dynamic between individuals and the governing powers, suggesting a methodological approach to historical and archival materials that refuses to consign them to an irretrievable past. She is suggesting not merely countering the work of imperialism with alternative narratives, but rather pursuing an ongoing process of unlearning and undoing the hegemonic structures that sought to cast events, timelines, and facts into a diachronic order.

This perspective is vividly echoed in Akram Zaatari’s first major solo exhibition in Italy, Father and Son, presented at Thomas Dane Gallery, Naples. Zaatari’s corpus of works is deeply concerned with the act of unearthing hidden or buried stories and objects. By embracing photography, he reflects on the act of collecting, archiving, and disseminating images and their poietic role in shaping individual and collective identities, which are often damaged, erased, withdrawn, or omitted from canonical chronicles. Drawing frequent parallels to archaeology as a means of epistemological inquiry, his artistic practice involves meticulous excavation—both literal and metaphorical—to restore and reconnect the fragments of stories disrupted by war and displacement.

The exhibition showcases works spanning two decades, beginning with the video Ain El-Mir, 23.11.2002 (2002), where Zaatari searches for a lost letter, symbolizing his broader quest to reclaim disrupted communications. His latest project, Father and Son: A Mother’s Voice (2024), reunites the separated sarcophagi of two Phoenician Kings, illustrating a historical reconciliation and physical reunion. The two sarcophagi of King Tabnit and his son, King Eshmunazar II, originally brought from Egypt to Sidon before 500 BC, were separated and are now housed in the Istanbul Museum and the Louvre Museum, respectively. This project commemorates a mother’s attempt to inscribe herself into history through her son’s funerary text, suggesting a shift in the perception of lineage to include her presence.

Accompanying this project are new works on paper that explore the Mediterranean as a historical nexus of exchange and movement, further emphasizing the region’s role in shaping collective memory and identity while also envisioning a post-apocalyptic future where the sea is a continuous solid ground with no water. Among Zaatari’s notable works is Archeology (2017), which reconstructs lost or never-produced objects through a process that blends subjective and augmented presentations. The work integrates materials like broken glass, metal, sand, and acrylic, making the artifacts appear freshly unearthed, thereby bridging past and present.

Similarly, Photographic Currency (2019) employs photographs to revive traditional quilt patterns, merging cultural preservation with economic revitalization by promoting artisans’ work to new markets. Venus of Beirut (2022) delves into the hidden archives of Middle Eastern photography studios, where nude photographs, often considered forbidden, were discreetly shown to select clients or left to deteriorate in archives. This work highlights the cultural tensions and contradictions surrounding the depiction of the human body in art, contrasting the acceptance of nude painting with the taboo of nude photography.

Zaatari’s recent creation, Ibrahim and Cat for Inji Efflatoun (2024), is a brass relief produced in collaboration with Neapolitan artisans. This piece breathes new life into a forgotten photograph by Inji Efflatoun’s father, originally intended as a reference for an unmade painting. All that Refuses to Vanish (2022) draws from the notes and drawings of Osman Hamdi, an Ottoman statesman and painter, during his excavation of the Sidon Necropolis, further exploring the theme of rediscovered heritage.

Finally, Zaatari’s work I Tabnit is a recreation of an album page where the inscription has been edited down to its strict intention: as an identification of the person buried and as a curse of whoever disturbs his sleep. Zaatari translated the edited version of this inscription into three languages corresponding to the key players in the story—Lebanon, France, and Turkey—and burnt the English translation into the image itself along with the names of the protagonists of this archaeological discovery: Mehmet Sherif, the mason who found the necropolis; Hamdi Bey, who excavated it; and Ernest Renan, who translated the Phoenician text.

Reviving lost stories and forgotten artifacts not brings the past back to life but surely recontextualizes it within contemporary discourse, prompting viewers to reflect on the ongoing impact of historical events on the present and future. With an approach similar to Azoulay’s, Zaatari then highlights in this exhibition the enduring relevance, complexity, and controversies of photographic practice in carving collective memory and identity.