In late August, the Faculty of Fine Arts at Damascus University issued a circular that sparked a debate among Syria’s art community. The new directive, signed by the dean, Fouad Dahdouh, bans the use of a “nude model” in graduation projects across the sculpture, painting, engraving and printmaking departments.
Any student who depicts a nude figure in their final work will automatically receive a grade of zero out of 100. The circular declared that graduation projects must conform to “ethical and societal values”.
Syrian art curator
At first glance, it appeared to be an administrative reminder of an outdated rule. But the language, especially the penalty, has been widely interpreted as a new, sweeping ban on any artistic representation of nudity.
“The decision reaffirms a 1974 prohibition on live nude models, not something new,” Dahdouh told colleagues when questioned. Yet for many students and faculty, the difference is stark. The earlier restriction was informal and rarely enforced. This circular codifies it, attaches harsh punishment, and leaves little room for interpretation.
Ironically, Dahdouh, himself a celebrated artist, has created several works depicting nudity that stretch back decades. These include Blonde Nude Lady, in addition to two nude works being displayed in Erotica, an online exhibition by the Litehouse Gallery in London.
The exhibition “pulls together the works of six Syrian artists in a series of multifaceted depictions of the body”, according to the gallery. Bassem Dahdouh, Tammam Azzam and Kevork Mourad are among other artists featured.
Fouad Dahdouh has been a professor in the fine arts faculty at the University of Damascus since 1993. The gallery's description of his works reads: “The female silhouette is a central theme in his melodic, rainbow-rich paradises, which communicates with the colour materials to the limit of the abstract. Although his spontaneous forms are enriched with the love of everyday pleasures, they cannot hide the latent sadness.”
Erasing a foundational skill
For young artists, the ban cuts to the core of their training. Figure drawing and sculpting are the foundations of most academic art education. Without the ability to study the human body, its anatomy, proportions and form, students risk graduating without essential skills.
“Learning to observe and depict the human body through nude figures is a foundational skill for artists, essential for mastering any form of visual art in the future,” says Line Kouwatli, a Syrian art curator who has worked extensively across the Middle East.
“When an art university bans the use of nude models or the illustration of the nude, it removes a critical component of artistic training, diminishing the quality of education and potentially producing a generation of less skilled artists.”
Her concern extends beyond technique. “Art, by its very nature, is based on exploration, creativity and pushing boundaries,” she adds. “Imposing limitations on students directly contradicts the principles of artistic development and the cultivation of creative potential.”
Students push back
The reaction to the move among students was immediate. Many described the decision as censorship dressed up as pedagogy. Online forums lit up with objections. One student wrote: “This isn’t about decency, it’s about control. You can’t teach form if you ban the body.”
Others worried about what this means for their futures abroad. Regional and international residency programmes often expect evidence of formal figure study.
“If Syrian graduates do not receive the proper skills and training, their competitiveness on an international level may be affected,” says Kouwatli. “Syrian artists are widely recognised for their skills. To restrict them now is to weaken one of Syria’s rare and valuable assets.
Precedent vs enforcement
Inside the fine arts faculty itself, professors expressed unease. Some noted the precedent of the 1974 ban, but stressed that it had been quietly ignored for decades.
“Artists retained the flexibility to depict the human body as long as it wasn’t too daring,” one professor said. The new circular, with its zero-grade penalty, changes the equation entirely.
The vagueness of the language is also troubling. The text singles out “the nude model,” but does not define the boundary between a nude and a semi-clothed figure, or between study sketches and stylised representations. That ambiguity, faculty members warn, could invite over-enforcement.
“It is unclear what qualifies as ‘nude’, leaving it open to broad interpretation,” says Kouwatli. “The circular carries a rigid tone, and that rigidity is reflected in the severe consequences of receiving a zero grade.”
Amjad, a recent graduate of the faculty, who spoke on condition of anonymity, tells The National: “I will still work and create. The ban is not really a logical decision because the faculty is a place to build yourself. It’s a long path to becoming a successful artist, so you need to see art, to live it, to pick up new ideas, and to be influenced by artists as well.”
He adds: “The artist is the most important part, you cannot just make an artist obsolete. When you are building a house, you do not just build it without the foundations.
“How are you expected to do a portrait of someone if you haven’t learnt it on real people? The face, the shoulders, the bones, the details – this is all important. You learn at university, that is why you are there.”
Cultural and political context
To some, the timing of the decision is especially galling. Syria’s art scene has long been an internationally respected sector, even through war and sanctions. Artists such as veteran painter Youssef Abdelke have built reputations abroad by pushing against restrictions.
Abdelke denounced the new circular as “a political decision dressed in ISIS garb”. He says the “social sensitivities” justification is a pretext for imposing extremist ideology. For him and others, the move echoes the Islamist censorship Syria once positioned itself against.
An independent group, the Syrian Visual Artists Collective, released a statement calling the circular “an assault on artists’ freedom and on pedagogical foundations”. It said studying life models has been part of the university's fine arts training since the faculty’s founding in 1961, and was only informally constrained in the 1980s.
Critics say the faculty’s decision cannot be viewed in isolation. Over the past decade, Syrian authorities have repeatedly invoked “values” when restricting cinema, theatre and public art. The effect, some argue, is a gradual narrowing of cultural space under the guise of protecting tradition.
“Decisions regarding artistic expression are always linked to a wider political context,” said Kouwatli. “Under the previous Assad dictatorship, Syrian artists faced pervasive restrictions on all forms of expression. It is therefore concerning to see rules limiting artistic freedom being enforced again.”
For students, the implications are both immediate and long-term. Some worry the circular might even be applied retroactively, penalising graduation projects submitted under earlier rules.
“The dean approved this decision while students had already completed their tests and are waiting for their grades,” said Kouwatli. “Will this law now be applied retroactively? That would be devastating.”
Threatening self expression
Beyond pedagogy, the ban sends a chilling signal. It suggests that authorities are willing to dictate not only what can be shown in public, but what can be studied in classrooms. For a generation that has grown up amid war and repression, the circular feels like another reminder that self-expression remains fraught.
Kouwatli believes the stakes are higher than many realise. “Introducing restrictive laws goes against the goal of openness Syrians have long fought for, particularly freedom of expression,” she said. “Imposing strict control over what students can and cannot create sends a worrying signal about the direction of artistic and cultural development.”
For now, the Faculty of Fine Arts has given no indication that the circular will be withdrawn. Students say they will adapt, focusing on abstract or symbolic work to avoid penalties. But many worry about what has been lost.
