samo shalaby's mystical vision
samo shalaby’s world is a captivating mix of his inspirations, lived experiences and roots. the palestinian-egyptian young artist talks to us about ghost stories, the occult, and his journey living in different parts of the world: from cairo, to dubai and london - the culture shock enriches and informs his work.
first of all, welcome. we are so honored to include you in our first print issue after a small hiatus. tell us more about your background.
thank you for the warm welcome. i'm honored to be part of this issue, especially considering the monumental role plastik has had on my artistic journey through its signature aesthetic that i grew up admiring. i’m an egyptian/palestinian fine artist, mostly using paint as my medium. my upbringing in a creative family based between cairo and dubai, coupled with my studies in london, have shaped my diverse inspirations and directed me to explore a versatile approach within my practice. this journey has led me to explore not only painting, but also photography, styling, set design, and even theater, costume, and jewelry design.
we noticed you mix a lot of mediums, eras and techniques. that’s a testament to your talent, but maybe also the eternal dissatisfaction of a generation that grew up with the internet?
although i grew up with the internet, it wasn’t my primary source of dopamine. we never had tablets at home, and even when smartphones made their way into our lives, i always favored doing things with my hands. my family house was a maximalist’s playground: filled with “karakeeb” (knick knacks) and antiques, lined with embossed leather walls, and “trompe l’oeil'' murals my mother painted. it had a kitschy gothic atmosphere that i found stimulating. you would catch me either drawing and painting in her studio, or rearranging the decor around the house to create sets and worlds to walk through. i’d even use playdough to create figurines, in an effort to recreate sets from cirque du soleil - one of my early obsessions. i would say these experiences have all fueled my love for merging eras, mediums, and techniques. perhaps that would make me eternally dissatisfied, which totally fits my aesthetic.
we embrace the fact that art can exist in abstract places and virtual platforms, but that is a relatively new notion to the world of art. with computer assisted intelligence making its way into our lives, how does this affect your creative process?
salvador dali once said “there are some days when i think i'm going to die from an overdose of satisfaction”, and i totally relate to that. i find said satisfaction when refining details of a painting with a single-haired brush: using the same unhurried process used by the old masters. i mostly work with acrylic painting, pencil-drawing, underpainting, and i mix methods that have been used for hundreds of years. it’s my way of summoning a rich art heritage humanity has inherited, which i value more than a relatively recent digital art world. i appreciate virtual platforms, as a way to experience and share art, but i believe that art carries and emanates energy which can only be experienced in person through the senses. i believe that ai only emphasizes the importance of traditional art and contributes to its value, rather than overshadowing it, and this makes me want to go back to basics. at least for now.
occult symbolism is prevalent through your work. can you tell us more about where that inspiration originated from?
not everyone believes in the supernatural, but i really believe our childhood home was haunted. although the building itself wasn’t old, the large antique collection in it felt like a time capsule; every piece telling a different story. even at an early age, i felt like i could hear, feel and experience things beyond the tangible - i definitely witnessed some odd things. an old piano that would play by itself, objects that would move, and even laughter that echoed in the hallways. those early encounters were a big part of my upbringing and opened up a lot of doors for me to explore and question beyond the tangible. the fashion, music, and art that intrigued me were all tied to this sort of darkly romantic ambiance. the symbolism in my work will always reflect and allude to that hauntingly ambiguous realm.
what is the most spiritual encounter you’ve had?
the most spiritual encounter i’ve had took place in london while working on my "momento mori" series, which are my painted miniatures encased within antique frames that i collect. there's a certain type of frame i was after, and i found a rare one online for a great price. usually, i carefully buy these things in person to get a feel of them and assess if they emit a bad vibe. this time though, i couldn't resist the deal and bought it anyway. once it was in my possession i knew something was off, but i proceeded regardless. one night, as i removed an ambrotype photograph of a man from the frame to replace it with a fresh painting, i saw that same man standing in my bathroom, wearing a suit and a smile, staring straight at me as he peeked his head out. that experience became the inspiration for one of my recent paintings in my "curtain call" series, titled "the guest."
your paintings have a surrealist quality. how do your dreams, superstitions, and subconscious influence your artistic choices?
my dreams and subconscious almost always take the wheel. while my visual aesthetics are shaped by various influences, narratively, i tend to draw inspiration from within rather than seeking it externally. my sketchbooks play the role of creative bibles, where seemingly "thoughtless" sketches from years ago resurface and suddenly make perfect sense in current pieces. during moments of subconscious "flow," i allow my hand to guide me without questioning, resulting in surprising outcomes. these sketches, rooted in a deeper connection with past experiences, gradually unfold their meanings over time, often revealing themselves in theatrical ways. it's a process of deciphering fact through fiction. my dreams and visions can tell intricate stories within stories. in a somewhat peculiar way, i feel like my subconscious, or something from another realm, reaches out, conveying messages through visuals and symbols. this connection deepens my understanding of the self and contributes to personal growth. while translating these visions into the physical realm is the practical part, the ideas are always lingering, brewing in my creative cauldron. an aspect i'm genuinely thankful for. fully immersing myself in each project is crucial, as i prefer giving undivided attention and commitment to each piece. there's an important flow within that dedication. the reflection between each process stage is a vital part of my creative journey. i almost live in the painting during its inception, i eat, sleep, and breathe it, fully consuming it as it consumes me.
i love that your instagram doesn’t shy away from sharing a personal diary. it’s a mix of your art, but also a stream of a 24-year-old using social media spontaneously. how self-aware are you in regard to your image?
i’m glad that’s the impression you got looking at my feed. given my background, where i come from, and what i'm about, i am indeed self-aware of my image. i decide what i want to showcase and what i prefer to keep hidden. instagram, like many social media platforms, serves as a medium for presenting a curated reality rather than an unfiltered one. while it's not entirely a façade, it's certainly never the whole story. i believe everyone is self-aware when it comes to sharing on social media, but not everyone is authentic, something which i value.
at plastik, we were always drawn to exploring the world through pop culture and drawing parallels between politics and the tabloid celebrity trash culture. today, we’re more conscious about how we consume popular culture as an informant to art. what are your thoughts on today’s culture? do you feel like it represents you?
absolutely not. i've always felt like an outsider, be it in pop culture, school, within my cultural context, in the art world, or even on this planet. what drew me to plastik, especially in its formative years, was how despite the prevailing norms in the arab world at the time, you guys boldly carved out a new path in technicolor, paving the way for future innovation. it is incredibly inspiring and aligns with exactly what i intend to achieve with my work. for all the misfits and in-betweeners out there, the idea that you don't have to conform to a predefined path anymore is incredibly liberating. this freedom to create your own lane, separate from the norm and flourish in it with resolute belief and determination is something that past generations might not have believed possible. nowadays, as the saying goes, “the world is your oyster”, and that's one tenacious quality i truly appreciate about our current generation and culture, its persistence. if representation isn't handed to you, you have to go out there and claim it, forging your path to leave your distinctive mark on the world.
we agree that art doesn’t have to be political; what messages are you hoping to convey through your work, if any at all?
the contrast between the public and private self is something that intrigues me, but honestly, the messages vary. my art serves as a medium to convey both complex and simple stories, sometimes simultaneously. the interpretation depends on where you look and what you know. as i mentioned earlier, my narratives are usually internal explorations, a form of therapy, so to speak. especially in my “stage paintings,” the messages are always packaged in a plethora of mystery, kind of like a where’s waldo experience. there are hints, clues, and symbols to unlock each narrative. allowing the audience to decipher its meaning over time, especially upon second or third observations. as for me, the meanings are usually a reflection of lessons learned, that are buried into each piece along with its last stroke. however, when i sense an urgent call from our social-political climate, its presence will somehow become embedded in the painting, whether overtly or subtly, its symbolism will be there. for example, my latest stage painting, which i completed over two years, titled “the masquerade,” has blossomed into an ode to palestinian suffering and the delayed reaction of the western world.
how has your cultural background or upbringing influenced the themes and motifs in your paintings?
the egyptian and palestinian cultures that surrounded me embodied a unique sense of generosity that was expressed in ways that were often over-the-top, be it in a positive or negative light. this extravagance showed up in the eclectic mishmash of unrelated elements, like food, furniture, and bold fashion choices. even acts of love or passion were always characterized by this surplus of reactive emotion. as arabs, we exaggerate everything. this relation to excess has deeply influenced my art, shaping my aesthetic and approach. while my art doesn't necessarily represent my cultural roots, my dreams are a direct reflection of them.
“as artists, we are on a continual quest to get closer to the universe” - we love this quote from the artist’s way. what are your thoughts on personal and artistic development going hand in hand? as a young artist, what are some lessons you’ve learned in trying to make sense of the world through your work?
i've come to realize that the world defies understanding and often doesn't make sense, and perhaps it never will for us humans as we aren’t destined to know it all. life lies in the void between each question and its answer, and the real experience dwells in the state of in-between. the world is a mix of cruelty and beauty, chaos and charisma, with dichotomous narratives too complex for the human mind to fully grasp. in my paintings, i strive to mirror this overwhelming truth. personal and artistic development for me are directly correlated. without art, i'd be lost because it's not just what i do, it's an integral part of who i am, a constant companion in my quest for self-discovery. through the act of creation, i find myself from within, with the paintings acting as guides and teachers, helping me piece together my mental puzzle. it's a mutual exchange, i feed into the art as it feeds into me. it's a remedial exercise in translating emotions into visuals, bringing them to life, and aiding my comprehension and digestion of the intangible.
interview by philippe ghabayen