Happy Yemen

It's not unusual today for art to travel from the streets into the galleries. But very few artists travel in the opposite direction. Ammar Abo Bakr studied art in Luxor. As the Egyptian revolution on Tahrir Square took its course (a revolution whose ideals have long since been betrayed), Abo Bakr – whose motto is "If you make art, make it public, so that it's close to people's hearts" – took his art outside. Graffiti soon became the art of resistance in Egypt. Its motifs included street fighters and portraits of martyrs, but also poetic allegories of hope. These images derived their significance from their existence, their real presence, at the scenes of unrest, and they became an integral part of the events that followed. "Je suis celui qui n'a pas le droit d'être," the artist has written at the edge of his painting: "I'm the one who has no right to be." The same could probably be said of any nocturnal graffiti artist, but in the case of Abo Bakr, these words convey a much deeper existential threat. They refer to the threat posed to Sufi culture by radical Salafists, though they also be read as referring to any form of totalitarianism. A figure shrouded in traditional patterned robes holds his hand in front of his face in a gesture of despair. Is he the next martyr?