<span>Turn off </span><span>Fouad Street, one of Alexandria's most historic</span><span>, and you will find a grey-and-blue-tiled staircase leading to Shelter</span><span> Art Space, the newest addition to the city's cultural scene.</span><span>It's serene, shiny and beautifully lit.</span> <span>Almost a century ago, you wouldn't have been able to access this space from street level because Shelter was originally a bunker: a refuge for residents who lived through months of combat as Egypt fought alongside </span><span>its Allies during the Second World War</span><span>. In the years that followed, the basement turned from hiding spot to messy storage space, before being overrun by nests of mice, recalls Mamoon Azmy, Shelter's artistic director.</span> <span>The building, a tall, 1928 Belle Epoque structure built by Greek architect Peter</span><span> Gripari, was eventually acquired by real estate management company Sigma Properties. With the help of a small team, it was repurposed into a multidisciplinary art space and opened to the public last year. But the site's history is still seen in the bare, beige stone walls and exposed ceiling.</span> <span>Currently, </span><span>Shelter is showing </span><span>Magic Window,</span><span> </span><span>exhibition featuring works by celebrated painter Evelyn Ashamallah and her two sons: visual artist and filmmaker Bassem Yousri and multidisciplinary artist Salam Yousri.</span> <span>After the opening of the show, </span><span>Shelter's fourth </span><span>since June, I sat with two of the creative minds behind the project, executive director </span><span>Chaymaa Ramzy</span><span> </span><span>and Azmy, who is also a filmmaker and the former film curator at art space Wekalet Behna. </span> <span>Ramzy and Azmy both say</span><span> that part of the aim of Shelter is to reintegrate Alexandria's centre</span><span> into the rest of the city's urban fabric, and revive young people's interest in spending time in the "old downtown".</span><span> </span> <span>In addition, the interest of the team lies in fostering an "interactive relationship between artists and audiences, where dialogue is born," explains</span><span> Azmy. This will be achieved through holding workshops and talks that run parallel to exhibitions, as is the case with the current show, with Salam organis</span><span>ing an interactive workshop titled: </span><span>Help me finish my film</span><span>, centred </span><span>on one of his long-term projects.</span> <span>When Shelter approached Ashmallah and her sons, </span><span>they were not set on a curatorial direction. "I knew I wanted to show Ashmallah's work</span><span> and I had attended</span><span> a show for Bassem in Cairo, but I had no idea that Salam was Bassem's brother, for example," explains</span><span> Ramzy.</span> <span>After some thinking, the trio decided that </span><span>Magic Window</span><span> would peek into Ashmallah's work from the 1980s and</span><span> 1990s, around the time </span><span>her sons witnessed her working at home and were presumably most affected by her practice. In fact, much of Salam's work on display in </span><span>Magic Window shows a lot of influence from his mother</span><span>, particularly in his fluid depiction of human interaction, which often</span><span> blurs the line between man and woman, and human and animal. "They [Bassem and Salam] used to have a say in her choice of colours</span><span>, something we didn't know of before … It was not a one-way relationship," Azmy tells us of the family. </span> <span>Meanwhile, Bassem assumes the role of "guide" in the exhibition,</span><span> with his figures that feature speech bubbles with witty commentary. These also offer biting criticism of an arts scene that he considers unwelcoming of anything out-of-the-ordinary,</span><span> and of an audience that is ostensibly impatient. According to Azmy, some of these interventions, if you will, were only conceived after all the pieces were up.</span> <span>"We want to showcase Alexandrian artists who do not have a space to show their work," </span><span>Azmy </span><span>tells us of the ethos of the space. "The visual arts market is based in Cairo at the moment, unfortunately," he continues</span><span>, adding that even </span><span>collectors from Alexandria have long found refuge in</span><span> Egypt's capital. "This requires time [in order] to change."</span> <span>Ramzy explains that there is an audience for an art scene in Alexandria: you have the collectors, who are necessary for</span><span> it to be sustained</span><span>; young people, who</span><span> are lured in through an art school that the gallery </span><span>established; as well as</span><span> mid-career professionals, mostly seeking free or low-cost events.</span> <span>In the coming year, Shelter will partner up with Photopia, a </span><span>photography hub from Cairo. For its second phase, and to generate money, the venue will open a cafeteria and library on the building's ground floor, in addition to a store that sells merchandise and home-grown designs. These products, like the building they are in, will reflect both Alexandria's past and present.</span> <em><span>Magic Window</span><span> is at Shelter Art Space until Saturday, </span><br/> <span>with a special screening of Bassem Yousri’s film, The Wardrobe Man, scheduled for the closing day</span></em>