Bassem Yousri and Kenneth Lum

Kenneth Lum: How has your perspective in terms of the art world changed over time? You mentioned that you had imaginings of being represented by David Zwirner, at one time. Not that you’ve fallen short of that — and I don’t think that should be any metric, by the way — but how has your perspective altered? It sounds like it's much richer now, and much more varied. 

Bassem Yousri: Yeah. I mean, I don't mind being shown in big galleries and museums. Of course it's great. But at the same time, I’m understanding how the art market functions more. At that time, I had no idea, and understanding my position in that market — the kind of work that I make, the kind of opportunities that exist for me — wouldn't always be fulfilling the requirements for me to be represented by David Zwirner, for example. 

I think now, more than ever before, even if I get a small opportunity in a very small gallery at the end of the world, that only two people will see, I will give it my all. Because it’s more about my practice, what I’m staying true to, what kind of artist I am. That is the priority for me. And then opportunities come later. I understand that my work is not really commercial, and this limits my my chances sometimes to show my work in certain venues. So I think I'm okay with that. The importance of doing residencies for me, for example, is a way to get in touch with different people, and also experiment more. I don't really go there with the goal of creating masterpieces. 

KL: Let me ask you this — a question of the public. Because you're working on a film, and that film project was not just circulated among galleries, but within film circles. Right?

BY: In a limited way, but yes.

KL: But also up in Denmark, right? 

BY: Right. In a small festival in Denmark also. Yeah, it's true. 

KL: What did you learn from that? In terms of the circumscription of audiences? 

BY: It was a very interesting interaction, because I'm used to creating work for galleries where I know that my audience is, like, 200 people maximum. For the first time, I found interest in a work that I did. In Cairo, the film was shown for a whole week, where the room was full of people, and there were a couple of nights where people were sitting on the ground actually, a full house, and some people came twice to see the film. It was really strange to me that I could make work that appeals to larger audiences, which was, which is, always my aim. It’s just that I don’t really change my work so that it appeals to larger audiences, but I'm hoping always to attract more audiences. 

So I think this made me understand that there's potential for a kind of artsy project to appeal to the masses, which is an inspiration of mine. I want to make work that is accessible to audiences but also layered enough that it carries intellectual weight and could also appeal to curators and fellow artists. So I think it's really inspiring, this project that I’m going to be working with. I understand a certain dynamic more now. It’s more related to Egyptian audiences so far. The film was shown also in the Museum of the Moving Image in New York, and I always need to try to achieve this balance between fun, entertainment, and intellect. 

KL: Do you think it’s always important to have some degree of your work accessed by a non-art public?

BY: It's important to me, yeah. Yeah. Mainly because I like to be entertained when I look at art. I also want to be inspired intellectually. Maybe it’s a matter of personal preference also, and so when I make art I also try to achieve that balance. I have a lot of respect for works that are not entertaining. It doesn't stay with me that much, I think, an experience in a museum or in a gallery where I smiled, or I felt entertained, but being very stimulated intellectually stays with me much longer. I like the work of, what's his name? Alex Da Corte. I think he achieves that balance, for example. 

KL: So tell me about RAIR. Why were you interested in RAIR? How did it change your life, if it did?

BY: I had my eyes on RAIR since it's inception. I saw an open call a few years ago and I thought to myself, well, what an amazing residency that is. It sounded really interesting. I have done several residencies before, where you're in in nature and you’re really pampered everyday —

KL: A more romantic idea of art.

BY: Yes, and I love them. Vermont Studio Center is incredible, Art Omi was fantastic — I would always go back there if I could. But RAIR seemed different. It seemed a place to explore a new side of yourself, but also find new ways of making things. I like industrial spaces, I like materials. And RAIR seemed like a very interesting place. Also, throughout the years, they started offering the artists the chance to exhibit their work, and the fact that they really care about documentation is very good — I just knew that I would have a good time at RAIR. 

I have to mention also that I really wanted to return to Philly, and RAIR seemed like a good opportunity to do that. So I applied once a few years ago and got rejected, and then I applied again a couple of years ago, and I wasn’t aware that they actually had funding to fly me there, so I thought I would apply for grants to be able to fly and stay, but luckily they had sorted that out — so that it was an even better opportunity than I first imagined. It’s an exhausting residency, physically. I would say it’s the most inspiring residency I’ve done so far. It’s so inspiring, and the site and the studios and the interactions were really life changing. It did change my life, in that it really affected how I think about trash forever. And even in my daily life, I’m more conscientious of how much material I consume or waste. So I think it affected me deeply in that regard.

KL: You come from a country where, due to lack, due to privation, people are finding all kinds of creative solutions — and I'm not romanticizing this — like to build an apartment on top of a building rooftop, for example, by using discarded materials and recycled materials. Because of need, people don’t have the means. And yet, here you are at RAIR, and you know Americans — you know, this is not caricature, either — there's so much waste. Things are just kind of tossed out.

BY: It's definitely true that the consumerism culture is much bigger in the United States, like a million times bigger in the United States, and it is totally true that people also find all sorts of makeshift solutions for various problems here. My last exhibition before coming to RAIR was a project called Guideposts. It's exactly about that, in relationship to governmental structures. And the argument I’m making in that project is that the government functions in that way, and then people adopt that way. 

But anyways, to answer your question. You'd be surprised that the upper middle class and upper classes of society here, the wealthier classes, are probably more consumers than the average American. It's true, to the poor sectors of society that they do recycle and find solutions with the available materials. But the upper classes or the middle classes are no different. They are probably worse than the average American. You buy a TV. And then, a couple of years later, you buy the more recent TV. You buy a phone, and then the following year you buy the newer phone. You throw away stuff all the time. You don't find things on the curb here as much as you do in the United States, or or even in European cities. But there is a lot of trash. There is no culture of recycling material. For example, people don’t separate trash here — its done after the fact.

What was the original question?

KL: Well, no, I think that you're answering it. Which is that you know the life of an artist. Your life has been one where you just keep gaining insights, and you're responding to it artistically. Right? You're becoming wiser. Sometimes you become, maybe more sober in terms of your wisdom. and so on. Right? I mean it’s kind of a great trajectory.

BY: Thank you. I take it as a compliment. I hope I'm that person.

KL: Do you teach at all?

BY: Yes. Teaching has been a very important part of my practice, since about ten years ago. I’ve done informal teaching, or mentorship, or workshops since, yes, 2012. I started teaching in academia six years ago, and now I teach part-time at the American University in Cairo. I’m also mentoring young artists in a new art space that opened in downtown Cairo called Art for Art. I did one workshop to help emerging artists develop concepts for their work that was a shorter period, over three weeks, and then now I’m in a full three-month program with a bunch of artists, where we get together, discuss their ideas, do critiques, and then I give them some challenges every week. And so the teaching has been really important, because I I believe teaching is the best way to learn new things also, and we get inspired by people's minds. It's fascinating how everybody's creativity functions. 

KL: What sort of advice do you give a young artist that you're teaching or mentoring, and they're about to, say, complete a degree. They're about to be on to another stage. What sort of advice do you offer?

BY: I have a funny answer to that question. I would advise them not to accept unsolicited advice. I don't know. I'm a bit skeptical of giving. I don't feel the right to give anybody advice.

KL: But you have life experience now, and you have wisdom.

BY: I don't think of myself that way. I appreciate you saying that. I was always annoyed by older artists giving me advice as a young artist. Maybe this is why I’m sarcastic about the answer. 

There is advice that you can give people. I just feel like everybody learns by making their own mistakes, no matter how you advise, how much you try to show them. You're actually doing it wrong, or you're putting yourself in danger. People learn by making their own mistakes. So maybe the advice would be to make as many mistakes as possible. and not being too full of yourself like that. If I gave myself advice as a younger artist, I would say to be more patient. Dream big but there's no way to force things to happen. Everything happens when it's the right time for it to happen. What kind of advice would you give a young artist? I’m actually really very curious to listen to your answer.  

KL: I would concur with what you say: don’t be too hard on yourself. I think that’s one. But I think the other advice — maybe it's more advice about one human to another — always remember there are people who are less privileged than you. And always be curious about the other. Always be open to the other. 

BY: It's amazing advice. And as you said, it's not to an artist per se, it’s to everybody.

KL: Because, you know, I grew up in Canada and I’m ethnically Chinese, and you’re in Egypt. And yet I feel affinity with you, even though our formations or backgrounds are so very different. And that tells me that each of us can have links with pretty well anyone else on the planet, right? That's a point worth remembering, I think.

BY: Actually, related to this notion, I would like to go back to my experience being in the United States and at Tyler School of Art. Because, yes, my career as an artist, and how I think about my position within the art world in general, or the art world in the United States, was affected by art school. The institution trying to put me in a box. At the same time, being in the United States changed my life in a very positive way because it’s a place where everybody from all over the world is, and you get to experience humanity at a very large scale in the United States. So I don't really want to give the impression that I felt attacked there, or it's more about the political discourse that makes you maneuver that way. But on a human level, the human interaction was really rich. There's no other place where you could meet that many people from different parts of the world.

KL: This is the final question. Any plans to come back to Philadelphia?

BY: No concrete plans. I always have in mind that I want to come to Philadelphia. So if the opportunity arises, I'll be in Philadelphia tomorrow. But there's no plan in terms of exhibitions or residencies. But hopefully, I'll come soon.

KL:  I hope so, too. I've really enjoyed getting to know you a bit more than the first time we met. So I hope you stay in touch, Bassem.