You need to go back to page number “13” to not understand anything, and (2023) is a canvas whose pictorial plane is torn and ruptured. The work depicts a proposal to rebuild an uncle’s farmhouse south of Baghdad, destroyed in the turmoil of the invasion of Iraq and ensuing war. Eyal imagines various architects rebuilding the property: we catch glimpses of the inside of someone’s head and small personal signifiers like a soccer player’s jersey. Through this nightmarish sequence, the painting itself appears to have been carried away by the figures in the background, who seemingly exert control over the picture plane.
From then on, doves scare me (2024) is a self-portrait depicting the artist’s childhood memory of accidentally trampling a dove, dramatised through an evolving series of uneasy imagistic collisions. It showcases Eyal’s trademark form of distended figuration, where an ominous landscape, subtle political iconography, and garish coloration coalesce into a unique, material symbology.
ARTIST BIOGRAPHY
Ali Eyal (b. 1994, Baghdad) is an Iraqi artist based in Los Angeles whose multidisciplinary practice spans drawing, painting, assemblage and film. His work considers the entanglements of personal memory, political violence and loss, blurring the lines between traditional craftsmanship and contemporary, research-based methodologies. Eyal crafts meditative and deeply resonant narratives that reflect the condition of a generation beset by foreign interference and the erosion of cultural identity. Solo exhibitions include In the Head's Sunrise, Brief Histories, New York (2023) and In the Head's Dusk, SAW Gallery, Ottawa (2023). Group exhibitions include the 22nd Biennial Sesc_Videobrasil, Sesc 24 de Maio, São Paulo (2024); 58th Carnegie International, Carnegie Museum of Art, Pittsburgh (2023); documenta fifteen, Kassel (2022).
EXHIBITED WORKS
Ali Eyal (b. 1994)
From then on, doves scare me, 2024
Oil on canvas
150 × 140 cm
Courtesy of the artist and ChertLüdde
Ali Eyal (b. 1994)
You need to go back to page number “13” to not understand anything, and, 2023
Oil on canvas
165 × 315 cm
Courtesy of the artist and ChertLüdde
