A Portrait of “Eluds” by a Young Artist- Now Grown Old

By Vladimir Tamari *

I write under protest. I have escaped to the ends of the Earth, because, having lost the center of my world, I became free to roam, to float, to try to forget the unforgettable.  It is too painful to try as you asked me to reconstruct my days in Arab Jerusalem, AlQuds, or as we said it, Eluds. When we lost Jerusalem, and I was unable to return or to visit it or even know it stayed the way I remembered it, it was a devastating shock that still makes me angry. The more so when in 1976 I was imprisoned at the Moskobiyya for 3 days when I arrived from exile thinking a family reunion permit meant a peaceful entry to my homeland. I was taken blindfolded at the River and later the first sight of Jerusalem after years of exile was through the cell window. The rooftops were bathed in a rosy dawn light, the city seemed so beautiful and worthy of all the love and pain we had invested in it. I drew my fellow prisoners and smuggled the drawings in my shoe, and later made a painting of the scene.

Although we were born in Jerusalem, we grew up in the windy freedom of Bireh and Ramallah, the twin towns nestled on hills and surrounded by villages. My very frequent visits to Jerusalem were a natural extension of our daily life. Jump in bus number 18 and obey the sign "Do Not Spit Or Smoke. Do Not Talk To The Driver. Do Not Put Out Your Head Or Your Hands From The Window'. A few minutes later the bus clears a hill and there is Jerusalem, splendid and welcoming, spread below across all the field of vision. Soon I would be entering the Damascus Gate, past the beautiful beige-gray-ivory-pink walls, and into the world of the souk and the holy places, and the crowded homes. I always carried a sketchbook and drawing materials and would draw the beloved faces and places. We were a clique of four friends from Jerusalem - Kamal Boullata my soul-mate as a painter, Hani Jawhariyyeh with whom I talked about films for hours on end, (and made some as well) and Ibrahim Souss, who would enthrall us with his brilliant piano performances of Liszt and Chopin at his home in Sheikh Jarrah.  There are too many other faces and memories of Eluds for me to keep track of: singing The Messiah at the Jerusalem YMCA with my sister Tania and our school choir, working at a mechanical workshop to construct the prototype of my invention the 3D drawing instrument, visits to Adranly's eyeglass shop, the thrill of awe while praying in the Holy Sepulcher and the Dome of the Rock, a walk with my father through the alleys of the Old City, him pointing to a hole-in-the-wall door and telling me our ancestors had lived there, designing a ceramic panel of my Arabic lettering still there at the Church of the Redeemer...

Working in Tokyo a lifetime later, I just released the same lettering as a computer font; I called it AlQuds. It brings me some consolation. We will never forget our Jerusalem.

*From Palestinian artist Vladimir Tamari in a letter to his sister –fellow artist Vera Tamari and co- curator of this exhibit.