Q and A with Tom Young (1047 words 6 min. read )
1. Having painted the “Lebanese scene” so vividly and accurately, can you share with us whether you do so from direct observation, or from a picture, and are you capable of doing it from pure memory?
Thank you, sometimes I paint directly from life, sometimes from photos and sometimes from imagination and memory. It’s a mixture.
As long as the work is made from some kind of authentic sensual experience, that’s what matters for me. You can call it an ‘empirical’ method, inspired by direct experience. Then the work contains a personal truth, it inevitably has soul and substance.
A lot happens from life which you can’t replicate in the studio- such as the sounds, smells, temperature, the feeling of the wind, sun and rain on one’s skin, and chance
conversations with passers by who may have some secret knowledge to share about a place.
Also, a lot of magic happens in the studio when one is physically removed and alone, where there is space for ideas to filter through which may be restricted by the richness of too much sensual experience. Particularly in Lebanon, the experience of public space can be too inspiring, too overwhelming. Aj2a!
As in everything, some kind of balance is good, even if that ultimately means a balance of balance and imbalance!
2. Your paintings establish a connection between the observer and the work in question, often stirring inner emotions, like what we saw on your works related to the recent migration of the Lebanese from the South. What do you hope for when you capture an intense emotion in a painting?
Good question. To create a feeling, a painted image through which my emotions, and possibly the emotions of others can be processed and honoured- particularly in relation to such difficult events such the Beirut Port Explosion and the recent war in the South.
These are not easy subjects. But I think it’s vital for artists to respond to them. I hope to show compassion and empathy in the work, hopefully contributing to a wider feeling of solidarity and recovery for those suffering. The idea of ‘healing’ from trauma through art is an ideal, but it’s not up to me to decide whether the paintings help in the healing process for others. Painting these moments helps in my own healing journey, I do know that.
3. Your background is in architecture. What made you shift to art as your primary profession?
I wanted to resume my original passion for drawing and painting. I have done it since I was about 3 years old. I’m still doing it, and I doubt I’ll ever stop. I don’t understand the word ‘retire’! For me, painting is like breathing. No one decides to breathe. You just do it. It’s a way of life.
I’m happy I studied Architecture at University in the UK, and Istanbul. It gave me a good grounding in structural composition, a sense of discipline, and also a fascination with the world we create around us- how we live and how the environment we create in many ways influences who we are, and how we do (or don’t) interact as communities and individuals. It’s a fascinating subject.
4. Would you share with us a story about your connection with Lebanon, not necessarily with the country but with its people?
I first came to Lebanon in spring 2006 to do a commission for a Lebanese man in London, where I was living at the time. I eventually moved to live in Beirut in 2009.
I immediately felt at home in Lebanon, like I had been here before, and as if I was in exactly the right place in the world for me. Not the easiest place to be for sure, full of challenges, but a liberating place where I felt most alive and inspired to make art.
They say that artists make their best work when they go a bit further outside their comfort zone. I have traveled and painted in many parts of the world, but for me, the place where I feel most inspired is Lebanon.
The people play a big part in that- one a deep emotional level I felt a connection with the Lebanese because everyone here has experienced some kind of trauma, injustice or displacement in their lives. I also experienced significant shocks and traumas in my family growing up. So I felt an affinity with the Lebanese, of all backgrounds, because I felt I could empathise, and I felt understood at last. That’s a beautiful feeling which I didn’t feel in my original homeland in England.
Everyone has a story to tell which is valid for them. Art can be a channel for those stories to come out in a way which can be open for interpretation.
I’m also inspired by how the people respond with such courage and positivity after a tragedy here. So perhaps it’s not so much the tragedy that interests me, it’s the response to it which counts. There an exciting creative energy here which is hard to describe.
I also find the people often friendly, warm and appreciative. That means a lot as an artist, because it can feel very solitary sometimes.
The art scene here is also great, always some inspiring exhibitions and projects happening.
It also helps on a practical level that here, people appreciate and buy my work- so I can earn a reasonable living, something which I struggled to do in London.
I also love the dark, ridiculous sense of humour here, come what may!
5. You have been a pioneer in restroing landmarks and exhibiting within their premises. What is you next big project, and do we expect to see an exhibition soon?
Architecture is a major part of my working process now, in terms of painting buildings, and conceiving my exhibitions as three dimensional immersive experiences, transforming previously abandoned historic buildings into living centres of culture and creativity. Hammam Al Jadeed in Saida Old Town is a good example of how this can be a sustainable method which benefits other artists, musicians and the surrounding community. It’s been going for five years now! Hopefully I’ll start a new project in the Cedars above Bcharré soon.
