The jungle monster & two tigers artworks together in the studio.
This first collection took a significant amount of time to put together because it was about much more than making art. In the midst of the current world turmoil, I was forced to re-evaluate my place in society. As artists, we are often told that our work is without use and therefore without value. In a culture of production, it is easy to accept this idea as fact, and for a long time, I did. I accepted the concept of the starving artist as an inevitability. When I read Hannah Arendt’s The Human Condition, it changed my perspective on worth and value. It made me realize that our attachment to usefulness strips value from many of the things that connect us to our humanity. It led me to rethink the purpose of art. If it is not decoration, or speculative investment, then why do I still make it? Why is it so important?
The idea that art is worthless is a painless way to convince us that we are insignificant. It suggests that anything not financially driven is without value. However, in revisiting history, we notice a different story. Governments, corporations, and political movements have long understood the power of artists to influence public opinion, shape narratives, and rally people around ideas. If art truly had no value, why would so much effort be spent controlling it, owning it, or separating artists from the rights to their own work? Countless examples of such events have been noted; Entire governments using art to overthrow existing regimes, Corporations controlling artist’s incomes to extract the most possible wealth from their productions, And many lobby groups, as in the current technological situation, working to revoke artist’s ownership of their work. Quickly, part of the foundation of the Jungle Monster collection became the question of why, if it’s so worthless, is so much effort being deployed into controlling an artist’s output?
I understood, through Arendt’s work, that whoever owns the means of production holds power. What makes the artist unique is that no one can take away those means of production. In that sense, artists inherently possess power. So, I began paying closer attention to how I was using my own. Working on mass media productions, I noticed how often people were excluded from the conversation in the stories we told. Certain characters got the punchline. Certain allegiances were cast as heroic, while others were cast as villainous. In any given story, the same act of defending one's family could be celebrated as noble in one context and portrayed as barbaric in another, depending entirely on the visual codes surrounding it. When I placed these observations in a contemporary context, something became hard for me to ignore. We often blame the news for its sensationalism and polarizing effect on society, yet many entertainment productions rely on the same logic of us versus them. Again and again, audiences are encouraged to identify with one group and fear or dismiss another. To be fair, I think that in many productions, it’s not an intentional decision, as much as force of habit that creates these biases. However, they are still very present, and have real-world consequences. This “other" that is often cast as the antagonist, is not actually some abstract enemy. In real life they correspond to another person; a worker, living in another country, trying to build a life for themselves just as we are. Yet many of the stories we consume frame these people as obstacles, threats, or resources. This is the Orientalist playbook. Without intending to, I had helped create narratives that dehumanized people through entirely constructed ideas and assumptions. This is the foundation of the collection as such. I wanted to unlearn the visual codifications through which we depict "the other ”, and take back the power that I have worked years to create through my skillful wielding of my art skills. Wielding these visual communication skills and this new perspective on creation, I turned to my own cultural background: the Canadian, the Québécoise, the Egyptian, to see what those identities represent for different people, how they are perceived, and projected.
I created this collection as an examination with focus on my Egyptian heritage because it feels particularly relevant to our current sociopolitical moment. In North America, our perception of the Middle East is often shaped by narratives that frame the South West Asia and North Africa region through a negative lens. More importantly, the region sits at the center of a long history of Orientalism and colonial rebranding. This collection acts as a mirror held up to these practices. It identifies, defines, and frames them so that we can recognize them when they appear. It highlights the harmful ways we portray cultures other than our own, but also the beautiful ways we do so. This body of work encourages the viewer to appreciate what is being presented, while also paying attention to how it is being presented, and to the intentions behind the image or narrative itself. This collection is also an exploration of how artists can better portray a world that reflects our own values. These portrayals shape the tangible world we live in, and are consequently of great value. What is more, this ability to shape the world belongs to all of us. Collectors, and art enthusiasts, each and every one of us also holds power. The works we support, the stories we celebrate, and the narratives we choose to normalize all contribute to the community we create together. When you vouch for a story or a creator, you also give weight to the values they put forward.
This collection is therefore centered around making the influences behind the work visible. It is about understanding the messages that exist beneath the surface of the images we consume. It is about recognizing how visuals can mislead, how narratives can be weaponized, and how easily both can shape our perception of each other. Most importantly, this collection is about finding ways to represent one another that does justice to the whole spectrum of human experience. Unflattening the idea we have of others, and seeing them for the multifaceted beings that they are, as we ourselves would like to be perceived. Beginning from the assumption that people ultimately want the same things: dignity, security, community, and to live meaningful lives.
The Jungle Monster Collection clarifies how visuals can be quite deceptive, and how narratives can be weaponized in subtle ways. It’s about finding new ways to represent each other, framing differences as positives, with the certitude that we ultimately all want the same thing; to live by each other’s happiness, not misery. By working together towards peace, a message from the 60’s that is in dire need of renewed interest, we can move towards the happiness we all strive for.
Join me for the release of the Jungle Monster Collection
Sunday June 14, at noon, Montreal time
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