Najla Said: Behind the Lens — The Other Art Girl

This month, I sat down with Egyptian visual artist Najla Said 🌻 her practice explores contemporary representations of femininity and womanhood, scroll down for more

Addy: Najla, thank you so much for joining me! How did you first become interested in photography?

Najla: My dad used to make photo albums of me and my brother, I feel like there was always a camera, especially a photography camera, around. Now I really appreciate having this archive because everything is categorised by year, including different family trips. Later, when my parents got divorced, everything changed, but it's a really good reference to go back to for visual memories of my childhood. It really helps me to understand my relationship with my parents, and sometimes it acts as actual proof of certain things. It becomes a really powerful tool.

That was my first introduction to photography, I only really appreciated it when I got a bit older. A camera was always on my wish list, then when I got one, at first I was just taking pictures of my family. Then at university, I took a few classes. I was pretty good academically, but nothing really excited me as much as a photography assignment. [laughs]

I started to take it a bit more seriously and started shooting my friends, but still keeping that documentarian aspect that inspired me in the beginning. I also did a bit of editorial shooting for a friend's brand, then it progressed into more conceptual projects. That's really what drives me the most.

*I killed some flowers last week* by Najla Said

Addy: That's really interesting. I guess it started more as a way of documenting life and then you were able to experiment with different styles, which is really cool.

Najla: Yes, exactly. I think because I wanted to also do it as a bit more than a hobby.

Addy: How did growing up in Cairo shape you as an artist?

Najla: I think it definitely shaped me a lot, the photography and art projects that I had to do for university were always about living in Cairo for me because it's a very busy bustling fast-paced city. Culturally or religiously, it's also complicated, a lot of people are forced to just digest things quickly and move on.

Photographing Cairo became an outlet for me, a way to talk about the things I wanted to talk about while relating to other people in the community and without it being super obvious, I guess, because there's always a margin of censorship to everything.

Addy: Did you feel comfortable being able to explore some of the more sensitive ideas?

Najla: I didn't necessarily feel comfortable at first, but I would say that taking one picture made me able to take another picture. It always started out with me having an idea that just popped in my head and then my immediate reaction would be to just laugh about it and think, "No, of course, no. I'm never going to do this."

It would take a bit more for me to think, "No, it is a good idea. It is tricky and risky, but maybe I should do it." [laughs] Taking that picture that I felt uncomfortable taking made me question myself less the next time. You get used to the discomfort, I guess.

Addy: The more you do it, the easier it gets.

Najla: Yes, in some sense. At least conceptually it's easier to trust myself.

Addy: So interesting. Describe the process of capturing a photograph.

Najla: When it comes to artistic projects, I think it's either driven by an experience that I’ve had or it's a commissioned project. I have a keyword or a brief that I start with, then my first instinct is to try not to look at any visuals for reference yet, because I don't want to have my mind completely invaded by too many visuals. I feel like Instagram already does that, sometimes it's even hard to get an original idea, although we can argue that there are no original ideas.

Sometimes I start by trying to mind-map keywords, I start from a word or an experience and try to think about everything that comes to my mind. Then I begin to narrow down how this could potentially translate visually.

If the word is “womanhood” and I'm trying to think of that word, I would even think of the stereotypical ways of showing empowered women, like the things that we see in advertisements. These images are stored in our minds in a way. For me, it's important to acknowledge these ideas and then write them down, just so that I'm able to think about other things instead of ruminating on one specific aspect.

Once I have an idea or a visual, that's when I start to look at visual references. I also really like to talk to my friends at that point. Sometimes I just need a solid, good conversation with someone about what I'm thinking of, just so we can bounce ideas off each other. That really helps me.

Then, in terms of creating the picture, I always resort to working with friends or people that I know because the connection really helps me to feel inspired. I usually try to shoot on analog when it's financially possible. I try not to do too much editing or retouching, just something simple that I'm happy with.

Addy: Does editing take a really long time?

Najla: In my head it takes such a long time and I always say that it will take longer than it actually does in the end. I find it hard to stay on the same image for too long because I become so numb to it that I have to rest for a few days, then see it again to know if I like it.

That’s why I like the process of shooting on film because by default I have to wait at least a day to see the image. It really gives me this objectivity that I need in order to be able to know if I like the image or not.

I'm really inspired by things in the moment, like one specific look or specific gaze that makes me think, "Okay, I'm captivated by this, I have to take this picture." I really love that feeling. I think this feeling is what I strive for the whole time while taking pictures. When I'm looking into the camera and I forget about everything else during that moment, just trying to capture that perfect moment.

Addy: Your practice sounds very instinctive and natural. Also, when you talked about the process of thinking about the image or the shoot, it sounds quite collaborative and very personal in terms of photographing people that you know, rather than strangers or models.

Najla: Yes, exactly. I would definitely describe it as a collaborative process that requires people's support and the feeling of community really all throughout the process. It really strengthens me, like you said. [laughs]

Addy: Totally. You create representations of womanhood that challenge traditional stereotypes. What do you hope to communicate or convey?

Najla: Growing up, there wasn't much representation of the Egyptian woman. Of course, there were films, but a lot of these female characters were created in a very different context. I feel like now even with films that are produced in Egypt, most of them are commercial. I resort to film because it's the medium that seems to speak to people the most, and where people really seek that representation much more than anywhere else.

Photography seems to be a bit more niche sometimes. I feel like there just wasn't enough representation around me and there's so much to be said. It's just this discrepancy between what needs to be said and what isn't being said, the gap is huge. I definitely never intended to take on the job of filling that gap. When talking with friends, there were specific issues that we always spoke about, things like sexual shame and a lot of things that are very normalised within Egyptian culture.

There are so many social issues that affect women, and many women also sustain the patriarchy in a lot of ways. I think the idea was always to create something based on my experiences. My aim is mostly to not have a black-and-white perception of women's identity. For example, the perception is usually that you're either religious or if you're work-driven, then you probably have no family values.

If you're remotely interested in anything sexual, then you're immediately labelled a slut. Everything is so binary and there's never a middle ground. In the project Sister, Oh Sister, I try to provide representation for things relating to Egyptian culture. For example, the image of the woman on the motorcycle. In Egypt, it's a very common thing to have a family on a motorcycle and there's always a man driving. This series was inspired by everyday life, and I felt it could somehow be more empowering if women were included in the narrative. Not only included, but a central focus.

For many people, when they saw the image, they immediately thought about it as being about women driving motorcycles. For me, the main thing that I wanted to convey was actually the idea of intimacy, but in a non-sexual way, in a way that is more caring and nurturing.

My friends and I grew up to be very affectionate, this was considered taboo when we were kids. For example, we couldn't really undress in front of each other, but then we could braid each other's hair.

Addy: Hair is an important theme in your work. What is the inspiration behind this?

Najla: I think it's really an accumulation of experiences that revolved around hair. I started waxing my body hair really early on because there used to be a woman that would come to my mom's house every two weeks. She would always joke with me, “Are you old enough now to get your body hair waxed?”. Or the fact that when I was a kid, someone helped me to shower at home, but then as soon as I got hair, it stopped happening.

At some point, I cut my hair, I wasn't in Egypt at that time, I was just travelling. I didn't think twice, or see it as something that would cause any difficulties in my life, especially as a woman. The first thing I noticed when I returned was that it gave me so much more visibility in public, which I hated because as a woman, you're always told not to take up space in that way. Otherwise, you attract people, and then things can start happening, interactions or harassment or bullying.

There were always comments from people in the street asking me, “Are you a guy? Are you a girl?” People would come up to me and just ask me upfront. [laughs] It was really not invasive, but also, it was very confusing. People would just refer to me as “he” and sometimes I didn't even correct them because I genuinely didn't care. I only minded that it was based on me cutting my hair. For me, it was the weirdest thing.

I think the peak of all these problems was when I couldn't renew my national ID because they told me that they didn't have proof that I was the same person. I was like, “I literally just cut my hair” it's not like I got my whole face tattooed and you cannot see my features. As soon as you step outside this version of the ideal woman, then everyone has a chance to bully you. Then if you get bullied, you return again to the nest of patriarchy. For me, this is how it translated.

It resulted in a couple of photos that I took that were really about hair. Not just body hair, but also hair in different forms. I felt really attracted to it as a material just to use it as a prop in pictures or as a costume. I've created a couple of projects about hair. I think it's a really interesting material because it's attached to the body, but it's also an extension. It's not an organ in and of itself, and it only functions when it's attached to a body, it's only alive in that sense.

Depending on where it is on the body, it can be attractive or it can simulate this sense of disgust. I think this whole spectrum from beauty to disgust, is really interesting to me, and reflects ideas about womanhood and identity politics.

Addy: Yes, hair is so political within so many contexts.

Najla: I think it really has a lot of significance in so many cultures, for sure.

Addy: You explore ideas of femininity and liberation. What does it mean to have agency as a woman?

Najla: [laughs] That’s such a hard question.

Addy: Yes, it's a big question! Lol.

Najla: Yes, but it's very relevant. What does it mean to have agency as a woman? The first thing that comes to mind is freedom of speech. I think also agency to take space. Often a lot of, specifically men, aren't necessarily aware of how much space they take in conversation, in public spaces, and on the internet, whereas women aren’t given the same opportunities.

To have agency is to really be able to hold space without apologising for it, without feeling guilty, without being labelled as aggressive, all these things that can really affect women in the workspace or even in public life and social life. Obviously to have agency over their bodies and over their sexualities. I feel like specifically, with a religious context in Cairo, it's either women are labelled as really sexual or the opposite. There are so many instances where I wish women could speak for themselves and not have somebody else speak for them.

A major problem in Cairo, which for me is really about having agency, is that a lot of women aren't able to move out of their parent's house. If you can't have your own space, it's really hard to feel like you are fully entitled to things in your life, because then everything is tied to being subordinate to a man. There's even a saying in Egypt, a woman should go from her dad's house to her husband's house.

It also removes a lot of agency, not only over a woman’s sexuality, but also agency to just be. The most human aspect of it all is to just exist without explanations, or apologies, or justifications, or anything.

Addy: Exactly, if you don't have the freedom to just have your own space, you can't really live on your own terms.

Najla: Yes, because if you're forced to depend on other people, not that you have to be independent if you don't want to be, it's completely fine, but it's just having the choice to do that if you want to. It's not really that available.

Addy: It’s a difficult reality for so many women.

How do you balance the technical aspects of photography e.g. lighting and composition, with the more creative and artistic aspects of the medium?

Najla: When I have an idea, I'm really driven by how I can translate this idea into its most authentic form. I'm more driven by that than being inspired by anything technical.

The last project that I worked on was about capturing places of sexual fantasies in Cairo and these were submitted to me anonymously. I decided to shoot an apple in these different places across Cairo. Initially I assumed that I would shoot everything with the same camera, at the same time of day, in a way that would be consistent throughout, so that it could be one series. Later, I realised that there was really no point in keeping it consistent because this was about individual fantasies of people that were not related to each other.

A lot of the people said that they imagined this happening in the evening or they imagined it happening at sunrise, and one person imagined it in the middle of a busy street. I just ended up prioritising that, whatever was the most authentic to their fantasy. Sometimes I went with a different camera completely. Sometimes I shot in analog, sometimes I shot in digital. Sometimes I would use a smaller camera for an area that had a lot of police, where I knew I couldn’t really come in with a huge camera.

For me, it's really just about being authentic to the creative idea as much as I can. If I have a good idea, I'm more firm about the idea than I am about the technicalities. Of course, they are still connected, but there are some projects that I've just shot on my iPhone because it really translated the idea better.

Addy: It's really interesting to hear about how you approach these aspects in your practice.

Najla: Yes, exactly. In the end, ideas are abstract and conceptual by nature. There has to be a specific form that can allow viewers to access it because otherwise, they just become a bit inaccessible. That's where technicalities help because photography is one of those mediums where the idea can be very obvious or very vague, and technicalities are really the thing that makes you able to control that.

Addy: Definitely. Who or what are your biggest creative influences?

Najla: I thought about this a lot before the interview, I’d say post-revolution Iranian cinema. I don't think it has influenced my work yet, but maybe on a conceptual level. It really inspires me because there's something about how subtle everything is and, of course, how that relates to the very strict censorship rules. This idea of how something could be created under those circumstances. It’s extremely powerful in terms of how subtle everything is, it becomes poetic in some sense.

Of course, I don't want to romanticise the fact that it's created under horrible conditions. I feel like generally, these are the films that I ended up really moved by because I relate in some sense, having grown up in Egypt, even though it's not as harsh. Still, I think there's a lot of problems with freedom of speech and it has given me the inspiration to create something while still containing the message that I want it to contain. It naturally creates political work. Even if it doesn't want to be political, it ends up being political. I relate to that.

*Burkini from Dusk till Dawn* by Najla Said

Addy: How do you feel about creating work that is immediately seen as political?

Najla: Well, on some level, it can be quite triggering to be constantly put in that box because then you feel like you really have to have a message, but it also allows people to see the work differently. It is the thing that motions a lot of change. I'm more bothered when people are not aware that their work is political than I am bothered by people labelling work as political, because it's incredibly privileged for someone not to consider their work political.

If you have something to talk about that isn't political, then you're most likely not affected by a lot of the inequalities that exist in today's world. I'm more bothered by people that are likely to take neutral stances in a lot of their work and not realise how it could be read in certain ways that will create conversations. If your work is going to be political, then you might as well create productive, constructive conversations.

For example, I took a picture of my friend and her armpit hair was visible in the image. I made a conscious choice to keep it in the picture and not remove it because removing it would also be being part of that system of forcing women to conform. Then when I posted it, it got a lot of negative responses. I think until now, I get cyberbullied and she does too, because of that image. There were people directly insulting me, asking, “Why do you do such horrible, disgusting projects?” I would rather be aware of the power of that image and consider it political and take pride in it being political because then I can make a small change.

Of course, I don't intend to make a huge change, I don't want to be the person claiming to do that. I just think it's much more powerful to actually take agency in the flow of a work being political rather than saying, “Oh, this is out of my control. Why is everything political?” Things being political just make people a bit more aware of what they put out there, so I don't mind it so much.

Addy: I love that answer. It really depends on the person, I know some people that don't love the idea of their work being put in a box, but at the same time, it's about asking the right questions, especially if you have the tools to start those conversations.

Najla: Yes, for sure.

Addy: How do you envision your practice evolving and developing in the future, both in terms of your style but also your subject matter?

Najla: Since I moved to Berlin, I think it's been hard for me to see a direction for my work because I felt like I have to start from scratch. A lot of the time in Cairo, things happen much more easily because I have a community, I have a network, and that really helps a lot. I learned the value of this when I moved here. Obviously, because I had to settle and do so much when I moved here, it diverted me a bit from my projects.

It's been hard to pinpoint how my work is going to develop. I'm still very affected by a lot of things from when I lived in Cairo. Again, I think I create the work that I do because it's my way of processing that. Now that I have the time and space to do that, these still feel like important topics to me. In terms of style, I really like having something that is slightly documentarian, but also with a bit of narrative.

I really enjoy things that are shot in daylight, and I like shooting portraits of people. I've realised how much I love doing that. What I used to love doing in Cairo was shooting my friends on a trip or something. Now I'm trying to get back to it and I’m also taking portraits of strangers. What I love most is actually coming out of a shoot having gotten to know someone. It always leads to a fulfilling conversation. Naturally, they can be uncomfortable in front of the camera and then we talk for hours and it's much more human.

I think in terms of where my projects are headed, I still prefer to do things that are conceptual and really narrative based. Shooting people and doing things that feel a bit more candid and natural.

Addy: You mentioned about leaving a shoot and knowing someone a lot better. Do you feel like you can get to know someone just by taking photos of them?

Najla: I think it depends. In the context of shooting someone, I don't want to say there’s like a power dynamic, but I think it immediately puts the person in a bit of a vulnerable position where they know they are being perceived. We all know we're being perceived at all times of the day when we're out in public, but that’s a very different experience because you might not even notice that someone is looking at you, that someone is thinking of you, you might not notice anything. It happens in a way that is just ordinary and mundane.

When it's during a shoot, it comes down to the idea of knowing that someone is looking at you in full flesh. If you're in a fashion shoot, once you have makeup on, once you have some styling, you're already guarded in a sense because you already know that this picture was never meant to translate how you look to other people.

Even if it's a natural shoot and it's just makeup, it’s almost like a mask, you still feel like there's some layer that protects you, a shield between you and the other person and it becomes easier to perform a role. Whereas pictures that are more candid and spontaneous can become really uncomfortable because it's just about you. The only thing that is in that picture is you, even if you have a set, what you're going to see later is how you look to other people.

So yes, it can be an uncomfortable process. I try to think every time, how can I make someone feel like I'm not just there to take a picture? Because that also can feel very transactional. It puts a lot of pressure on the person to be happy with the images, or to feel that I need to be happy with the images. I try to make my process with the person better and that can even be in the form of just talking. I’m genuinely interested in what they have to say rather than waiting for the perfect moment to take a picture of them. It has to be a good balance between not objectifying them or their emotions.

Addy: Yes, definitely. How do you hope your photography will impact viewers and leave a lasting impression on those who see your work?

Najla: I think because there's so much photography and video content on social media, we're very numb to a lot of it. Sometimes, I feel the same when I go to an exhibition, it's so hard for me to look at something for more than a minute. I'm already jittery. I'm like, "Can I move?" [laughs] It's like there’s an overpopulation of images and it becomes really hard to take a moment to actually think about the message of an image. For me, it's really important that I feel that my photography spoke to someone, just resonated. It doesn't have to cause a change in someone, but just the sheer fact of prompting them to think about something, or even question themselves, or to relate to it, or feel represented. I think that is really what I would aspire to.

Addy: The idea of evoking a response of some sort, beautiful. Okay, so at the end of interviews, I like to do something called a rapid fire round 🔥🔥

Najla: [laughs] Tell me.

Addy: They're sort of like “either or” questions.

Najla: Okay.

Addy: Here we go! Modern or contemporary?

Najla: Contemporary.

Addy: Digital or analog?

Najla: Analog.

Addy: Winter or spring?

Najla: Spring.

Addy: Yes <3 Ocean or lake?

Najla: Ocean.

Addy: Dreamer or realist?

Najla: Omg, that’s like my life problem. I guess I would say, dreamer. [laughs]

Addy: Morning or evening?

Najla: Morning.

Addy: That's an interesting one. [laughs]

Najla: Yes, if I could go to sleep every day at 6 in the evening, I would not mind.

Addy: Omg.

Najla: I love the morning. It's my favourite part of the day. [laughs]

Addy: That's so funny.

Najla: Yes.

Addy: Music or film?

Najla: Film.

Addy: Tea or coffee?

Najla: I used to be a tea person, but now I'm a coffee person.

Addy: Plans or surprises?

Najla: Surprises.

Addy: That's a good one. The last song you listened to?

Najla: Omg wait, I have to find that. Give me a second. It's called Blanco by Abo El Anwar, he's an Egyptian rapper. [laughs]

Addy: I'm going to look this up.

Najla: Yes, you should.

Addy: I think I found it. Okay.

[laughter]

Najla: It's the kind of music that goes against all my values but I love listening to it.

Addy: Sometimes a good song is just a good song.

Najla: Yes, it just gives me energy.

Addy: Najla, Thank you so much for taking the time to answer all of my questions!

Najla: Thank you, it was really lovely. It made me reflect on a lot.

Addy: I'm glad <3

For more from the amazing Najla, check out her website here!

Behind the Lens

This month, I sat down with Egyptian visual artist Najla Said 🌻 her practice explores contemporary representations of femininity and womanhood, scroll down for more

TL;DR

Olympia’s Maid