Randa Maddah’s solo show explores the nature of her Golan Heights homeland

Syrian visual artists paints serene landscapes that represent a state of the 'in-between'

Randa Maddah’s solo exhibition Hanging Gardens is running at Tabari Artspace in DIFC until October 12. Photo: Tabari Artspace

The Hanging Gardens of Babylon are considered one of the Seven Wonders of the ancient world, yet its origins have always been debated. Many stories have emerged over the centuries about how they came into being, some questioning if they ever really existed at all.

One origin story that still resonates today speaks to King Nebuchadnezzar II, who ruled the region of what is now modern-day Iraq from 605 to 562 BCE. It is said that the king built the hanging gardens as a gift for his wife, Queen Amytis, who longed for the green landscapes of her homeland in Iran.

It is unclear whether the tower and its lore are a fabricated, poetic creation – or a story based in reality. This blur of history and fantasy, fact and fiction, and the connections between memory and ruins are themes from the story that have also preoccupied Syrian visual artist Randa Maddah’s new body of work. Her inaugural solo exhibition at Tabari Art Space is entitled Hanging Gardens.

“I thought this title would be appropriate because of the themes I’m dealing with,” Maddah tells The National. “When you think of that reference, it’s about being connected to the land, missing the land, longing for it – even not knowing whether the story is true … it makes me think of the in-between.”

Maddah is from Golan Heights in the south-west corner of Syria but currently resides in France. While famous for its picturesque landscapes, it’s a region primarily known for its historical, political, and geographical importance, which has been a constant source of conflict.

Following the 1967 Six-Day War, the region, including Maddah’s village, has been occupied by Israel. The state of Maddah’s homeland has left an indelible mark on her, particularly the notion of feeling an affinity and seeking solace from nature and the land.

Inspired by the countryside of Golan, her work depicts landscapes painted in lush greens, blood reds, and earthy ochres, all bursting with life, from curled and outstretched tree branches covered in blooming pink flowers to roots that dig deep into the ground. “Growing up in a politically tense atmosphere, where nothing can be certain, this is the connection, the only connection I can be sure of, that I have control of, my dedication to the land,” she says.

“The only thing that our people feel is permanent, is the earth. This is why so many of them didn’t leave their land in 1967. They are still connected to the land. Ask any of our elders and they’ll tell you it’s impossible to let go or abandon their land. We are raised to love the land in this way.”

While Maddah’s family is in the Israeli-occupied part of Golan, much of her extended family isn’t. Before mobile phones and the internet, Maddah explains, it was common practice for many families to head to a well-known landmark, Shouting Hill, to communicate with their relatives. Using mega speakers, the families would speak to each other on the hill located near the ceasefire line that separates the Syrian and Israeli-controlled territories.

“We used to communicate to our family there through mega speakers because my cousins lived in the part of Syria that isn’t occupied while we live in the occupied area,” she says. “This is how close we are to each other but also far away from each other at the same time. It’s a strange reality.”

Throughout the painted landscape and the growing flora, there are figures floating, entrapped or fragmented within the landscape. Part human, part animal, half asleep, half awake, metamorphosing or completely in their element, the figures are part of a narrative that we can’t understand in the linear sense but feel connected to.

Here, Maddah is exploring the idea of the collective consciousness, in being connected with all the elements around you. “I was interested in this idea because that’s how I feel about nature … All these different facets – nature, human, animal – I feel they are all connected and create one being, one soul, one perspective, which is why I wanted to combine them visually to represent that.”

Throughout Maddah’s life, Golan has been at the centre of many contradictions. It exists in the blur of opposing forces, spaces, borders, and cultures, between memory and reality, in a state of constant surveillance and uncertainty, living completely in the in-between.

Maddah’s village, Majdal Shams, was attacked in July of this year when a rocket hit a football pitch killing 12 children and injuring 30 others. It was unclear who was responsible for the tragic incident, with Israel and Hezbollah blaming each other. This political uncertainty is not the only one that has marked Maddah and her environment. She grew up surrounded by this political instability in her present and in her family’s past.

“As I grew older and became more curious about our political reality, I would have discussions with my father, and he’d tell me about his experiences as a soldier in the Syrian army during that time and then after the occupation,” she says. “All the stories he would tell me, he’d remember only parts of it or leave out certain parts because they were violent – it made me think about how we edit our memories because of trauma. Again, it’s this idea of being in the in-between.”

Maddah’s paintings, rich and surreal, are all-encompassing with an air of tragedy and beauty. Her serene scenes depict nature, humans and animals existing in spaces between each other, a part of each other and separate from one another all at once. They are the personification of that reoccurring theme in her life and her work of existing in the “in-between.”

It's a thread that connects through her reality, whether being close to her family but not being able to see them or her current circumstances of living in France but not being a French citizen. And despite having the opportunity to leave Golan permanently, Maddah finds it a difficult reality to accept, choosing instead to live between France and her homeland on a permanent basis.

‘It’s impossible for me to leave Golan,” she says. “My stories, the concerns of my work are connected to the nature of Golan, to the issues happening in Golan, by the spirit of Golan.”

Randa Maddah’s solo exhibition, Hanging Gardens, is running at Tabari Artspace in DIFC until October 12