A Well Inside a Mirror
Beyond the Apparent
Below a cloud of dark, oval leaves, there is an old fountain of pale stone. Clear water trickles out and shimmers in the later afternoon sun. The constant tinkle echoes around the courtyard but is softened as it greets the large window to the right.
Inside, a living room of mellow wood, marked by the dignified presence of a grand mirror, wall-mounted and bordered with gold. A young girl stands before it, peering at herself intently. A reassuring silence is upon the house. About her, motionless objects adorn the space, sitting up on mantles and cabinets. As she turns to them, one-by one, her keen eyes sense their outward forms: their intricate mosaics laced with pearl pieces that reflect the sunlight on the smooth walls.
In slow revolve, she accounts for each carefully placed item. She is able to sense something beyond their outward shape and colour. She looks at what is apparent and infers what is beyond the apparent: the particular patterns and certain colours reveal the intent of her grandfather, the artist, whose sturdy, weathered hands set every object in its proper place. The same firm grip to pick figs fresh from the tree. Yet her mind pursues further to the stories her grandfather told of each artefact’s origin, the careful working of each designer. Her gaze opens out to consider the tall walls of the room, the windows and the ornate doors. Traversing generations, a mural unfolds before her eyes of every person to have lived within these walls, their faces gleaming in joy and shrivelling in sorrow. This wasn’t just a dwelling, but vibrant life.
A curious bird raps on the window, and the girl tumbles from her imagination to face her own eyes again. She is surprised to witness an older face. Years have passed, and she inspects herself in the same mirror once again. The objects in the room pointed to that which was beyond what was immediately present. These objects were reminders of bygone lives, they were signifiers of precise intention. Considering now her own outward form, she finds that, akin to the objects, her own form holds accumulated memories, and in the precise placing of her features, points to the intent of the One who put every aspect in its proper place. The mirror allows her the perspective to study her physical form, and to recognise that which is beyond it.
The Modern Mirror
A mirror, whether we find it in our bathrooms, bedrooms or hallways, can be used for glancing only at the outward. It can assist us in making changes to the outward. With its aid we fix our hair and brush our teeth. In London, mirrors are found in the windows of cars and shops, where rapid glances can be snatched, reassuring us that the precarious result of the manipulation of our features remains intact. We rush our reflections, hiding them away and not lingering long in their presence.
This rushed mode of living has seeped into design too, with production geared towards efficiency and instant satisfaction for customers. We purchase pocket mirrors or abandon a separate mirror altogether for our phone cameras with which we quickly check the face we are presenting to other people. However, if used in a different way, the mirror could become a tool for an activity with greater benefit than peacocking. The mirror could be used as a means of reconnection.
Connection is key to the concept of the ‘Microcosmic Mirror’ in three important ways. In the design process, we observe a connection between childhood and the adulthood, through the medium of memory. In the construction process, there is a connection between tradition and the present, through artisans preserving age-old crafting techniques. In the purpose of the piece, we see it working to reconnect people to contemplation on questions of consequence, and the answer that such thought upon these questions must lead to.
Childhood Memories
I will consider Xena’s design process first. In commercial design, there is an imperative to produce something quickly. For Xena, this imperative is absent. Her designs are considered. They do not take physical form until the moment where it is felt that the concept that they eventually represent can be appropriately expressed. In the manner of a one-way street, the process of design begins inwardly and moves outward. The dictates usual to the commercial practice hold no sway over the contemplation that Xena engages in, that eventually results in material expression.
Childhood is at the forefront of these contemplations. Xena sees childhood as a space of safety in one’s memories, wherein one can relive a period of undisturbed innocence and imagination. This space is often accessed when we come across sights, smells and sounds that carry with them years of experiences. In our minds, objects do not stand alone, as they may do upon mantlepieces or atop drawers, rather they have woven to them pieces of our former lives. The rooms of childhood homes are stages for vibrant, interlocking performances of all the events that ever unfurled within them. We see the apparent but are able to infer what is beyond the apparent. Through objects that trigger the medium of memory, we can connect with our childhood and with the treasured experiences that were significant in our growth towards adulthood.
This is central to the designs that Xena produces. Though these objects, in our memories, will naturally come to represent certain aspects of our childhood, Xena’s designs also aim to represent these aspects in their outward forms. The one-way street from the conclusion of a contemplation to physical expression allows for these conclusions on childhood to emerge in physical form, without the time taken for accumulation to occur. The designs then carry with them the vibrancy of these recollections, intentionally realised in a physical manner.
It is in this sense, that Xena’s work could reliably be categorised as art, with art being the metaphorical representation of aspects of reality. A strong connection between the outward result and the particular reflection is present. The hope is that this would prompt the person witnessing the object to feel something of this memory and perhaps let it lead them through their own childhood rooms. In Xena’s work, prompting contemplation in the observer is crucial, such that her designs become mediums for reconnection to one’s own childhood. Of the ‘Microcosmic Mirror’, Xena herself said ‘Perhaps, through this visual inquisition, time is no longer a linear construct but a flow that connects our past, present, and future selves.’. This process and this theme are central to the ‘Microcosmic Mirror’.
A Community of Craftspeople
Turning now to the process of construction. After the concept of the mirror and the themes it would represent had been formed in Xena’s mind, artisans fit for the task needed selecting. In the end, they hailed from many lands in the Levant, and brought with them the experience of generations, whose techniques they carried forth into present times. Again, the theme of connection is clear. In Xena’s work, and in the mirror quite clearly, there is a strong connection to tradition. Though each artisan is a master of their craft in their own right, they are also the fruits of longstanding architectural traditions in their homelands, and the work on this piece revealed this heritage.
Xena challenged six artisans to consider the brief ‘looking deeper inside you’. Each artisan was handed the work of the previous one. Their challenge was to seamlessly contribute their own particular skill to the work that had already been completed. For these artisans, being free of time constraints was essential. For Xena, this presented a challenge, having been accustomed to working in another architectural company with a process that was fitted to tight deadlines. The effort required for the artisans to ensure that the resultant physical form is a sincere reflection of their inward idea is a process that cannot be rushed.
When he was ten years old, Abu Annour lived near to a carpenter in Damascus. From the carpenter’s uneven offcuts, Abu Annour began to fashion small wooden toys. His creativity flourished at one time when he prized a small engine from a toy car that he had, and used it draw upon the wood. Among a family of creative minds, Abu Annour competed with his brother, who became a master in his own right as a painter of rich Levantine art on wooden furniture. Over time, he developed a skill in using a CNC machine to work with wood, which placed him as the perfect candidate to prepare the wood for most of the layers of the mirror.
Abdul Rahman Tabannaj, or Abu Abdoh, was the distinguished owner of shop in Syria, wherein he practised the craft that he had started upon as boy. He was a fine artisan specialising in wood and pearl mosaic, but the onset of terrible war in Syria forced him to flee to Jordan, and to re-establish his shop in Amman. Akin to Xena, he also finds himself recalling days long passed, the memories of his youth spent honing his craft. His workshop is adorned with delicate boxes and grand teapots, and he brought this mastery to bear in the detailing of the mosaic layer of the mirror that points toward traditional forms of Islamic art.
The mirror itself was handcrafted by a craftsman from Jordan and for the pearl layer, the design came to Mutaz Hammoush, who had also fled Syria at the commencement of war, taking with him this dwindling craft. He feels he is of the last generation of artisans in the region to practice this craft.
The mirror then passed to an Egyptian metalworker, Ahmed Fawanees. Since childhood, he has worked crafting the lanterns used for Ramadan and has taken the name Fawanees after them. His investigation into the processes of shaping and joining metal has enveloped his life for the last twenty years. A whirring, rattling press, led by Ahmed’s dextrous, grey-stained fingers folded the brass for the rims of the mirror.
The colouring of the brass was taken up by Sayyid, a driven master of metal and wood painting techniques, and another designer who stumbled across his passion as a young boy. Unable to get a formal education, he trained with old masters in oxidation and annealing. The brass was coloured by brush and hand.
The finished mirror carries with it vertical links from contemporary craftspeople to the age-old artisanal traditions of their cultural homes, as well as the horizontal links between each artisan that makes the mirror something of a community project. With each artisan, a friendship was built over pots of tea, and these golden memories are now imbued in the material of the mirror. The specific design calls towards the unique personalities of each artisan, and the persisting craft that he brought with him.
Design as Remembrance
We turn finally to the concept that underpins the mirror. Traditional Islamic art is more than mere adornment. It flows from a tradition that has at its core the practice of remembering God, and so aims to fulfil this purpose of reminding the observer, of prompting sustained consideration of its details. It invites to the contemplation, which eventually leads to reverence and awe in the recognition of design. This practice is encouraged in the Qur’an in relation to the natural world. As Muslims, indeed, as human beings, we are called to pause and consider, rather than rush through or merely snap an image with a flashing camera. The ‘Microcosmic Mirror’ invokes this heritage as an object intended to provoke introspection.
To quote Xena herself, ‘The microcosmic mirror is enrobed by multi-layered circles with shifting centres inviting the viewer to embark on a self-discovering journey. Unlike the conventional ways of representing mirrors as passive surfaces for reflection, this microcosmic mirror, with its multiple edges and centres attracts the attention of the eye in a wandering movement to explore the unexpected. This is not a mirror to pass by speedily. Rather, when gazed at, it is an object that promises to unlock a reflective interrogation into oneself, and one’s identity, temporality, positionality in the cosmos, and unravel what has been long hidden and submerged in our lifelong constructed representations.’
Stimulating a specific contemplation through the design of physical objects is not an easy task. Organically, over time, objects become imbued with the memories of experiences that involved them, as well as bearing the mark of the intention of their designer. In the ‘Microcosmic Mirror’ Xena seeks to produce a piece that is already inscribed with memories, that are pointed to by the specific materials and patterns used. The pearl surface calls to a reflective pool and the mosaic, inclined slightly, reminds of an old, ornamented rug.
The name ‘Microcosmic’ was chosen to prompt those who witness the mirror to engage in serious thinking about oneself and one’s existence in this temporal universe. As we stumble through our world, we can become attached to many false centres or points of focus, directions that we turn to with admiration and reverence, though such responses may not be deserved. The warped circular pattern was selected to represent this multitude of false centres that we might attach ourselves to before recognising the true centre, the One who precisely specified the nature of the objects, whose outward appearances we sense whilst on our journey in this universe.
Profound or Superficial?
The theme of connection that we have considered in relation to the ‘Microcosmic Mirror’ is present in every layer of the design. At inception, we saw the connection between inward and outward, between childhood and adulthood. At construction, we saw the connection between people within the community and the connection of artisans to longstanding traditions. In the concept itself, we saw the possibility for connection to one’s true self through serious thinking.
In a place that demands fast-paced living like London, one might reasonably scoff at this idea of a design prompting deep thought each time it is approached. Has this presentation been no more than an elaborate effort to create a pleasing atmosphere around this product so as to sell it to consumers? It is not so.
When the mirror was displayed as a part of the ‘Material Matters’ exhibition, it was found that people took to this idea of slowing down and scrutinising the image they saw reflected by the mirror. Couples stood for minutes, taking the time to stop, become aware, and consider the mirror from different angles. The capacity to engage in this manner of thought is latent within all of us and can bear fruit if it is given time.