susu attar

October Uprising Project (2021) is a mutli-media collaboration with artists in Iraq and the U.S. The visual album uses video, projection and sound to create and document a live projection painting using footage from the 2019 revolution in Baghdad and the streets of Los Angeles. 

A Unique Moment 

Throughout my life, I’ve witnessed the endless wars and violence against the people of Iraq. I’ve watched their destruction, in diaspora, through live media coverage and other news images. I cannot relay what it has been like to watch on screen a place I love with people I love in it being violently attacked over and over again. 

My point of view is located inside the source of violence and yet, I see myself on the receiving end of it, too. In previous eras and when not visiting my family in Baghdad, I relied on news sources for a visual glimpse of those streets. Today, I can access real time conversations and experiences from people who live there through social media. 

On October 1, 2019 mass protests erupted in Baghdad, as they often had since the 2003 invasion and occupation began. [1] This time, the protests spread as young people occupied the streets of nearly every major city and small town across the nation. Like most struggles that happen in Iraq, it went largely unnoticed in the U.S. despite the enormous death toll. [2] But now, I didn’t need to wait for the news to give me a glimpse. Iraqis on social media used their platforms to document and share their first-person point-of-view in real time, risking so much by showing their faces and revealing their names. Defiant and determined.  

It was awe inspiring. Iraqis everywhere, especially those of us in diaspora, could not believe that time had brought us to this moment.[3] It was reflecting an image of people who are beautiful, complex and strong. Led by the youth’s persistence, the uprising brought Iraqis together across ethnic, religious, and economic lines. Those who had restaurants, donated food, those who had medical skills, donated healthcare, those who did not occupy the streets installed rows of rugs and donated blankets to aid those who did. Libraries, laundromats, and cinemas were erected. Communal rituals, funerals, and even dance parties were held in the streets. The tuk-tuk drivers, the icons of the revolution, served as ambulances for wounded Iraqis in Baghdad’s Tahrir Square while others organized cleaning crews. Folks figured out that Pepsi could help with tear gas burns. Together, they demonstrated a life of co-work and fellowship. A vision for the people, by the people. 

Like so many Iraqis in diaspora, the images and videos of the streets of Iraq gave me access like never before. I tuned in almost exclusively through Instagram and found myself recording my screen as I moved through stories and posts. The information was coming to me from Iraqis I knew irl, online or through hashtags. I started connecting with young people in Baghdad and around the country documenting their stories in real time.

The Art of Process

Throughout that time, Iraqi content was echoing a single request from the outside world: SHARE OUR STORIES. The people had already taken matters into their own hands, had demanded what they want from their government and had demonstrated what society would function like with people power. All they asked for from the outside world was help getting their stories heard. 

My conversations with artists on the ground and my community members in North America attempted to find opportunities to respond to that call and make meaningful gestures of support. I used my platform to share stories and hold conversations with Iraqis on the ground. Next, I wanted to take my screen recordings of Baghdad and project them onto Los Angeles, painting the architecture of my physical location with the digital space I was engaging in.

I reached out to Amir Hazim, Haider Husseini and Tabarek Mansour, 3 fierce Iraqi artists whose footage I had recorded and told them about my idea and asked for their blessing. They suggested I use their original footage for higher resolution and proceeded to text me video files. 

I teamed up with filmmaker Wesam Nassar and together we evolved the idea, experimenting with multiple DIY modes of rigging and being in motion. We approached the action of projecting as a painting. We thought of the streets of Baghdad and Los Angeles as layers of paint, the digital screen our canvas. It’s a narrative that reflects multiple perspectives on one surface. 

In addition to Amir, Haider and Tabarek’s footage, we’ve used viral footage found on Instagram of a woman from Diwaniya who is wearing the male tribal headdress and calling for a united stand against poverty, suffering and exploitation. We’ve also used found footage of a group of young Iraqi men playing traditional drums along with cake cutters making percussive beats.*

The sound design and original score was created by musician Sandra Lawson-Ndu, who incorporated original track audio, original vocals and instrumentals as well as a sound bite from a conversation between me, Amir and Haider for my Artists in Process series on Instagram Live. The score can be experienced as a one track album and also as individual tracks on Bandcamp. 

2021

The October Revolution in Iraq reminds me of the best of human capacity, the potential for meaningful virtual human connection, and the way things circle back to local contexts. The separation that those in diaspora often experience is now a worldwide condition. The pandemic has made humans everywhere contend with loss and isolation from the people and places they love. 

Still, the potential for access and co-working in the digital era is amazing. The videos from Iraq document mourning, celebration, violence and peace in the same context. The collaborative video adds an additional context from which we pull in and out of focus. It’s all happening at the same time, and that complexity is important to us. Architecture, projection and score collage and collide in this work. Each is at times clear, at times unidentifiable. The complexity of their interaction is both representative of the multitudes of Iraqi culture and an offering from the culture of art. Together, sound, light, surface and movement represent the gesture of art as action. A gesture that we hope says: we see your streets like they were our own.

BIG LOVE to everyone who worked on this project and who patiently persevered throughout the innumerable challenges we were met with, including the challenge of COVID-19 and wild 2020.  

Additional gratitude to my dear friend Sundus Abdul Hadi, who helped me with initial development and has long been an important part of my artistic family. I’ve cited her article on the October Revolution above [3]. 

*If you have any info on the owners of these videos, I’d love to hear from you. Please email me at susu@susuattar.com

WATCH TRACKS