Al-Shams meaning the sun in Arabic is a project that utilizes analogue photographs and modern technology to juxtapose my grandparents’ experiences in Syria and its current state, alongside their new lives in the United States.
My grandparents fled Syria in 1958, they drove from their small town of Jemeliyeh, Aleppo to Scandaroon, Turkey. From there they took a boat to Israel and eventually came into the United States, with a few photo albums, and an expensive rug.
Photos represent objects that have survived the same journeys as those who carried them. After discovering their photo albums in the depths of their hall closet, page by page, I analyzed and scanned the photos that were taken of them in 20th century Syria. These documents made me realize that I lacked the context of my grandparents' lives in Syria.
Modern day Syria is a warzone and Aleppo is the frontline. Google Earth and my grandparents’ voices are the voyeurs through which I can travel Syria. Sitting by my desktop with Grandma Frieda on speaker telling me stories about life in Syria, I peruse the internet and screenshot photos of the current Syrian streets my grandparents recognize by name. This five-decade divide affected both the Syrian landscape and the means available to photographically document a place.
Using photographs that survived expulsion and dislocation, in addition to current images of Syria and my grandparents, I created an interactive experience that references the medium of photography. Printed on 8 by 10 acetate sheets, my grandparents’ photographs and the screenshots from 21st century Aleppo, are presented as positives. Piles of these tactile transparencies lay on a lightbox. Bridging the multiple decade divide, the viewers physically layer these objects upon one another to recreate a story, one of expulsion, relocation and survival—one that sheds light on my grandparents’ story and the current political climate in Syria.