The Geometry Of Feelings: Tarek Elkassouf’s Artistic Journey

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by Alexandra Mansilla

The Geometry Of Feelings: Tarek Elkassouf’s Artistic Journey

22 Apr 2024

Angles, straight lines, exceptional cleanliness, and profound meaning — this is how we would describe the artwork of Lebanese-Australian artist Tarek Elkassouf. He handles stones with meticulous care and precision, allowing us to physically sense the strong meaning and power behind his sculptures. Every detail serves a purpose, and each material is chosen deliberately. Nothing is done without reason.

But what are these reasons? We asked Tarek a lot of questions and found ourselves completely captivated by his art. And, for football fans, there is an exciting part coming up, too!

— Tarek, first of all, how did it all start with sculpture?

— Looking back, I realise that I have often approached life by seeking questions instead of answers. Like many who search for purpose and happiness, I have explored various paths, from architecture and planning to design. However, upon reflection, I see a recurring theme — I have consistently gravitated towards confronting my fears and pursuing what truly makes me alive. Since childhood, I have harboured a deep longing to sculpt and felt a profound connection when working with stone. It is a spiritual experience that has stayed with me vividly. A few years ago, I made the decision to delve deeper into this passion, questioning how my art can create change, both for myself and those around me.

— And in childhood, did you enjoy building with construction sets or collecting puzzles?

— Yeah, I have heard some interesting stories from my parents about leaving me with a puzzle or some clay, and when they would return, they would find I had crafted something like New York City or another elaborate creation. It is funny how people can take clay and build whole cities. For me, whenever I am in contact with materials like that, I thrive. Even as a kid, I would get lost in a meditative state, spending hours immersed in the creative flow.

I remember one particular experience when I was around 12 years old, back in the town where I grew up. They used old stone techniques to make retaining walls and local stone for architecture. I would walk around, running my hand along the walls, feeling the textures change. Each texture shift would evoke different sensations — excitement, calmness, or something in between. I could feel the dust, smell it, sense the coldness or roughness of the stone. When I started sculpting, it was like tapping into those memories, going back to what truly made me happy and interested. The more I immersed myself in sculpting, the more I discovered things about myself. It was an introspective journey, digging deeper to connect and understand better.

— Did you collect stones?

— Absolutely. I used to collect small pieces, especially when I travelled, like sand and other tokens, but nothing too large. They were more like mementoes. Each piece had its own story and its own texture, even though they often shared similar colours. I had a sense of what I was drawn to in stones, yet each one seemed to beckon to me from the places I visited or connected with. I have always been fascinated by the archaeological side of things. Whenever I visited such sites, I would hear stories that intrigued me.

I recall one particular experience at a Roman temple. I was mesmerised by the top of the column. Usually out of reach, it lay on the ground before me. I touched it and was like, “Oh my God, over 2,000 years, it was unreachable, and now I can feel it with my hands.” It was a magical experience. I couldn’t understand why others simply walked by. This is the story of time!

Tarek Elkassouf Studio's Digital Archive

— Do you remember the first piece of stone you created? What was it, and what stone did you use?

— It is a small cube, measuring six by six by six centimetres. It is entirely black and adorned with gold on the top. I remember walking through a marble factory and seeing all these discarded pieces, seemingly worthless for sculpture due to their size or irregular shape. They were destined to be discarded or perhaps ground up for other uses. However, I saw potential in them, a story waiting to be told. So, I selected a small piece; I applied a touch of gold with an ancient technique that enhanced the marble's beauty. It is as if there is a golden heart inside the cube, a window to the invisible, waiting to be revealed. After shaping it properly and giving it room to breathe, it transformed. This piece was a testament to complex simplicity. A small artwork that you can hold and that can take you places.

But something remarkable happened. People started connecting with it. Museums expressed interest in displaying it, and brands wanted to incorporate it into their offerings. All from a small discarded six-by-six piece. It is all about finding the right dimensions, the right materials and crafting a narrative that resonates. And the weight of the stone, when you hold it, grounds you, reminding you of its presence and significance.

Tarek Elkassouf Studio's Digital Archive

— Last year, you had an exhibition, “The Future Is Near,” at Saleh Barakat Gallery in Beirut, dedicated to grief. You described it as “the exhibition explores a human’s most intimate, primal, yet complex, reply to loss.” Why did you decide to dedicate it to this?

— So, starting in 2019, in the city where I was born and raised, Beirut, life began to spiral into absurdity. I found myself losing people around me and, in a way, losing myself too. I tried desperately to find solace either in the city or in the people, hoping to bring some order back into my life.

But eventually, I came to understand that true healing required an inward journey. I needed to reconnect with myself first before I could make peace with everything happening around me. I embarked on a journey of grief, mourning the loss not just of others but also of my old self, the one eager to push boundaries and grow. I have always been fascinated by the space left behind after loss, what I came to call 'The Invisible.' This emptiness took on a deeper meaning for me, much like the space between words or the silence in music, vital yet often overlooked. I realised that emptiness isn't truly empty; it holds significance in its invisibility. This concept intrigued me, leading me to ponder how people perceive my art.

For me, contemporary art serves as a gateway, inviting viewers to embark on their own journeys. “The Future is Near” marked the beginning of this evolving narrative, reflecting my personal growth and changes. It is a journey I am still navigating, filled with uncertainties and self-discovery.

“Transformative Energy” by Tarek Elkassouf. Photo: Tarek Elkassouf Studio's Digital Archive

— At that exhibition, we could see the sculpture “Transformative Energy,” which is now acquired by Jubail Island. Six stone pillars “form a sculpted symphony of change.” I look at them from black to white. What about you?

— I believe that once I have sculpted a piece, It doesn’t belong to me anymore. Its meaning resides in the eyes of the viewer. While I can share what I felt while creating it, it is not the definitive interpretation, as each person connects with it uniquely.

Personally, I perceive the sculpture from right to left, from black to white. To me, it symbolises the journey of transformation, which often begins with reluctance and questions. Why change? Why leave the comfort zone? These are natural inquiries, making it challenging to embark on transformation. This is why I chose a hard material, Basalt, which is abundant yet tough to sculpt. As I sculpted, the form became more intricate, inviting the emergence of shadows, which grounds the sculpture and its narrative. I also convey my story through Arabic script, mirroring the right-to-left writing style.

However, visitors experience the artwork differently; some feel grounded, and others feel lost, reflecting the ebb and flow of balance in life. It is a continuous journey of learning and growth, with moments of clarity and moments of confusion, but each step contributes to the process.

“Transformative Energy” by Tarek Elkassouf. Photo: Tarek Elkassouf Studio's Digital Archive

— So, again, about “The Future Is Near”. You showcase the stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance. Can you describe each piece, please?

— I need to emphasise something about our journey of grieving, or what I like to call our healing journey. It is not as linear as it may seem in my exhibition. You may be angry one moment, then in denial the next, and then trying to find balance again, only to be reminded of something that makes you angry once more. So, these journeys are far from linear. But if we want to simplify it for understanding, let's say we are either closer or farther from where we need to be in this journey.

Starting with the denial stage, which is essentially the beginning of the journey. This stage helped me realise how crucial it is to sculpt without discarding anything, to include all the pieces and waste nothing. I firmly believe that you cannot leave anything behind. By that, I mean you need to break the boundaries of your subconscious and delve deep into your emotions, taking everything with you because everything is interconnected.

"Denial" by Tarek Elkassouf. Photo: Tarek Elkassouf Studio's Digital Archive

“Denial” is one of my favourite artworks. It is a large block of marble weighing about two tons. I wanted to make just a few cuts, around five, to create the artwork. I remember the journey vividly — the doubts, the fears. What if there is a crack inside? If so, the entire sculpture would fall apart. Working with such massive stones comes with tension, uncertainty, and the challenge of presenting the artwork in a way that is both light and charged with energy. Scale is everything in sculpture. Unlike painting, there is a barrier between the artist and the viewer. In sculpture, you can touch the artwork, feel what is inside and outside.

Each piece weighs around 200-250 kilos. What I like here is that you can see what is inside and what is outside. There are different textures: a satin texture outside and a cotton texture inside. I am also curious about hidden stories, and I believe that every stone is trying to tell us something. The sculpture here lies in the space between these pieces. When you look at the artwork, it is not just the block that is sculpted but also the space in between, where the true essence of the story resides.

This sculpture wasn't something intense that pushed you back; rather, it gently invited you to embark on the journey of healing. I placed it alone in a room at the entrance of the exhibition, accompanied by a text inviting visitors to continue if they felt ready. I recall many people hesitating, feeling unable to proceed at that moment, and that, too, served as an invitation — an acknowledgement of the complexities of the healing process. It was an essential note to set the tone for the exhibition.

"Denial" by Tarek Elkassouf. Photo: Tarek Elkassouf Studio's Digital Archive

— So, the next one is anger.

— In anger, you replay all the stories, right? You try to make sense of what is happening, shifting blame and seeking understanding. For me, it was a long journey, perhaps longer than for others. You find yourself asking why it happened, how it all started, searching for the backstory. I tried to highlight this idea through a key, representing balance. Remove the central key, like a temple arch or a domed structure, and everything falls apart.

These artworks are different — some are sharp and edgy, and some are more calm. You are unsure if a piece will jump or slide back, but you know the system will collapse without the key.

"Intersection (1st series)" by Tarek Elkassouf. Photo: Tarek Elkassouf Studio's Digital Archive

Another artwork in this series is the "Life of Cue," a cube that rotates around the sun. Mirrors allow you to see your reflection, revealing the journey. Along the way, you encounter parts of yourself you may not like, represented by shadows. Yet, you come to understand that these shadows are a part of you. That is why I turn the shadows into gold, allowing you to own them. I used stainless steel for this piece, a challenging material that reflects the journey's challenges.

— Now, bargaining.

— I think a healthy way to move on and continue is to find balance, something less edgy than before, something not as sharp. As I mentioned earlier, there are a few pieces of my old self that I still like, but I also need to kind of shake things up.

"Intersection (2nd series)" by Tarek Elkassouf. Photo: Tarek Elkassouf Studio's Digital Archive

Whenever you cut inside the artwork, you will see the golden heart of the piece. These pieces all start from the same block, but each time I sculpt, I reveal what is inside, and these pieces come together to create the balance needed. It is like a companion, not intimidating or dominating, just a healthy conversation between you and the artwork.

Again, the balance. In the exhibition, I displayed them both unassembled and assembled because, as I mentioned, you lose and find it. Even when you lose balance, there is beauty in it because it gives you a chance to understand your core.

— The fourth stage — depression.

— That fourth step personally scared me a lot when I was in depression. But then I realised that there is one more last step before finishing the healing journey. I thought, "I'm almost there!” But it was really challenging. What better way to express this state than through The Mind? Here is a diptych where everything removed from the left artwork is inside the right one, and vice versa. Nothing has been left out of the process.

During the day, you have all these recycled ideas circulating in a kind of vicious circle. So you go into turmoil, and you think, "Okay, I'm going to sleep now; I'll be fine." But during the night, the same ideas come back, even more vivid, under a different light. They are the same ideas, just seen from a different perspective. Hence, the mind in this state is both. They need to go together; it is not one or the other.

"The Mind" by Tarek Elkassouf. Photo: Tarek Elkassouf Studio's Digital Archive

I would like to call it the alchemy. It is true that these are the same piece, and that you have gold applied to each one of them, but you can see the different reaction between stone and gold. The stone needed to breathe through the gold on the black one, and the white one absorbed it. I find it fascinating to see how each material interacts with the other and even the small air spaces in the artwork.

"The Mind" by Tarek Elkassouf. Photo: Tarek Elkassouf Studio's Digital Archive

— You mentioned that you were depressed. How did you cope with it?

— I realised that I needed to feel everything and that repressing it wasn't helping. It takes you to deep, unpleasant places, but it is important to go there and feel it, to understand that it is just a stage. The more you accept and absorb it, the clearer the finish line becomes. For me, the breakthrough came after this long journey, which wasn't short and went through different seasons.

At the exhibition, at this particular stage, I had the deepest conversation with people who visited the exhibition. Once they saw the artwork reflecting their feelings. The feeling of being alone dissipated a bit because they realised they weren't the only ones feeling this way. Looking back, it was challenging, one of the toughest moments I have had. However, I was fortunate to have empathetic people who understood what I was going through and walked silently with me.

— Now, let’s go to the last stage — acceptance.

— I have dedicated the sculpture "Breakthrough" to this stage. I aim to convey the significance of the void. The empty has meaning here. It is crucial in making sense of the journey through the healing process. This artwork invites you to look at things from a different angle.

"Breakthrough" by Tarek Elkassouf. Photo: Tarek Elkassouf Studio's Digital Archive

— Tarek, thank you. Now, I wanted to ask you about FIFA. How did this collaboration happen?

— I often say that the art I create is just the tip of the iceberg. There are many other projects that I collaborate on that are just beneath the surface. One of those is the FIFA collaboration and other commissioned artworks, which are usually gifted rather than sold. The goal was to create something that would remind the recipient of their visit and hold sentimental value, ensuring it wouldn't be discarded.

It is challenging when you are tasked with creating so many gifts, and you really have to tackle them. When I started, I thought, "Okay, I haven't played football for some time. I have been consumed with travelling. How am I supposed to keep up this pattern, like finding a teammate to play a game? You need to find 21 other people. I don't even have 21 friends! How am I supposed to do this?"

However, I drew inspiration from my own childhood memories of football and the sense of community it fostered. I recalled how we used to exchange players' cards as kids, each card holding significance for the recipient. I wanted to tap into that inner child in everyone, whether they were a young fan or a high-profile figure.

Photo: Tarek Elkassouf Studio's Digital Archive

So, I designed a unique gift for each match of the tournament, with each gift featuring a different collectible card. The cards were designed to evoke nostalgia and capture the essence of playfulness and camaraderie associated with childhood games. Each card was meticulously crafted with pearl enamel, employing traditional techniques that added both cultural relevance and sustainability to the gifts.

This approach resonated with the organisers and the FIFA community, leading to the commissioning of all their gifts. Witnessing the impact of sports during the World Cup reminded me of its power to unite people and nations. It was inspiring to see fans from all corners of the globe come together to support their teams, highlighting the energy and excitement that sports can generate.

Photo: Tarek Elkassouf Studio's Digital Archive

— And do you like football?

Honestly, it is an interesting question. Personally, I prefer it when it is national leagues like the World Cup. I feel like, especially with so many political instabilities in countries, you go to the match and leave everything outside the stadium. Stadiums become “Terra Incognita”. During the last World Cup in Doha, I was fascinated by the Argentinian crowd. The experience and the passion — I don't know how to explain it; it is just surreal.

I think I will never forget it, even going into the streets in Doha and to the match. It is such a beautiful lesson in unity, being together, wearing the same shirt, and being around the players.

And even going into the stadium and leaving the stadium, you know, like just having 80,000 people coming in and 80,000 leaving. I can hardly explain this feeling! It is like a symphony.

by Alexandra Mansilla