“I moved during the war, fleeing the death machine. I was moved from place to place, over fifteen times, from Gaza City to the centre of the Strip, all the way south. We asked the Israeli occupation forces if we could leave Gaza City and head south, thinking it would be safer, but each time we ended up in a fiery pit. Death was getting closer and closer, but we survived.”
These words were spoken by Maisara Baroud, a visual artist born in Gaza and one of the most prominent figures in the Middle Eastern art scene.
Holding a bachelor’s degree in fine arts from An-Najah National University in Nablus and a master’s degree in fine arts from the Faculty of Fine Arts in Zamalek, Cairo, Maisara has organised seven solo exhibitions and participated in over fifty group exhibitions across countries including Palestine, France, the United States, Japan, and Italy. His latest show, I Am Still Alive (2024), was held at Zawyeh Gallery in Ramallah.
Speaking from the home of one of his relatives in Deir al-Balah, in the centre of the Gaza Strip, Maisara shared his story with The New Arab.
Survival by chance
Like thousands of other Gazans, Maisara has lost dozens of friends, relatives, neighbours, and colleagues to Israel’s genocide, which lasted for over a year.
As he puts it, his survival was purely by chance.
“As chance would have it, my time had not yet come,” he shared, adding, “This has nothing to do with my ability to cope with death or my intelligence. I just tried to survive without giving up.”
Speaking about the art he created during the genocide, Maisara said, “In the midst of so much destruction and during a mass genocide, it was difficult to talk about the luxury of art, aesthetic perception, or pleasure.
“The war forced me to create something specific through simple lines. The forms became sharper, the lines straighter, the structure more direct, and the visual language more condensed.”
With limited resources, Maisara used inexpensive paper and ink pens to document daily life in black and white. “I managed to capture many moments, scenes, emotions, and feelings on paper in a series I called I Am Still Alive. I post these drawings daily on social media.”
For Maisara, the I Am Still Alive series became a way to reassure his friends and let them know he was still alive, amid challenging circumstances and communication breakdowns caused by the collapse of the internet.
“The planes, rockets, and shells destroyed everything,” Maisara explained.
“The face of my city became pale and disfigured. But this didn’t stop me from continuing to pursue my passion for art with the strength and tools I had.
“Drawing became my message to challenge the siege, mass destruction, holocaust, and genocide,” he added.
A living testimony to the massacre
With the documentation of the genocide comes the intertwined and complex meanings carried by each of Maisara’s drawings: pain, hope, defiance, determination, thirst, hunger, displacement, cold, death, life, patience, and resilience.
“These works are a message and a living testimony to the massacre, far from propaganda and official rhetoric. They are a message that transcends borders and barriers,” he explained.
In saying this, Maisara recalled some of the difficult moments during the genocide, sharing that on the second day of the war, bombs destroyed his private studio. By the third day, planes had levelled his five-story house.
“The bombs destroyed my dreams, my production, my artistic experiences, and my personal library,” Maisara said, clearly distressed. “These events brought deep pain and tragedy that affected me in ways I cannot describe.”
Drawing by the artist in ink on Canson paper, 100 x 200 cm
Dreams turned into dust
After the Gaza ceasefire deal, Maisara revealed that while searching through the rubble of his sister’s house, he accidentally found some of his works but was unable to save any of his personal belongings or the drawings he had left at his own home.
While sharing this, Maisara reflected on whether fear had given way to hope after the ceasefire, responding, “Fear will remain until the war is truly over. We must not indulge too much in hope until there is a collective will to stop this machine of death.
“The drums of war are still beating in the background of the political scene. When that time comes, the end of the war will undoubtedly affect the way I make art, and what I present will reflect a new reality.”
Maisara added that his dreams have now turned to dust, saying: “With much pain, I can now say that the thought of leaving Gaza has become both a goal and, perhaps, a desire.
“The scenes of war have repeated endlessly, and my body has become exhausted, as has the future of my children, now tinged with grey.
“For their sake, I could bear the pain of exile and distance from my beloved country, regardless of the destination.”
Speaking about the future, Maisara rejects the absurd proposal by US President Donald Trump to turn Gaza into a riviera and temporarily relocate Palestinians to Egypt and Jordan.
“I believe anyone who witnessed the crowds of people returning to Gaza, despite the massive destruction, saw proof of the impossibility of implementing a relocation plan. The resilience of the people in the north of the Strip was the strongest evidence that this solution cannot be accepted,” Maisara shared.
In making this point, Maisara noted that the inhabitants of Gaza have no objection to rebuilding with their own hands what was destroyed.
“We are the people of legend, who, like the phoenix, rise from the ashes to revive after death. The idea that should be proposed to the citizens of Gaza is to grant them the right to return to the homes from which they were displaced in 1948.
“This would be the way to end the conflict once and for all,” Maisara said firmly.
Giovanni Vigna is a freelance Italian journalist with a focus on Middle Eastern and global politics
