‘No Words’ is a reminder of how art can be resistance

By Raghad Genina

When words fail, art speaks volumes. After witnessing the atrocities of genocide in her homeland, Malak Mattar, who was born and raised in Gaza, turned her pain into a powerful yet haunting canvas. 

Her painting “No Words” is a dark and disturbing reflection of the genocide that the people of Gaza are currently facing. It’s a silent scream against injustice and inhumanity. 

Mattar left Gaza on Oct. 5, 2023, to pursue her master’s degree. Soon after, she witnessed her family’s evacuation to the south of Gaza. She describes it “as the worst time of my life.” 

“No Words” is a collection of images and references that Mattar’s family and friends sent her from Gaza. 

Death and destruction are prevalent throughout the painting. Under the rubble lies an endless amount of dead children, women, men and even animals. A woman is seen holding her child against her on the ground in an attempt to shield them from the rockets, with a look of horror on her face. A wailing man is pictured holding a seemingly hurt or dead dog. In the centre of the painting, a horse is in pain with a child on it trying to flee with all his belongings. It doesn’t end there, though. The more you look, the more death and destruction you see.

Further down in the painting, you see a row of men in only underwear held captive. Mattar mentioned how that specific part of the painting reminds her of her Palestinian brothers and Amos (uncles) and how it was difficult to paint as it was painful to see their Palestinian pride and dignity trampled on. On the same end, a hand is seen holding a rope that leads to an older woman trying to hold on to it to save her life. Children’s toys scattered on the ground mark a reminder of the joy and innocence that once filled the Gaza Strip, which is now destroyed by violence. 

“My paintings reflect history,” says Mattar. “When my friends would ask me if I’m protesting, I would say yes…I’m protesting in the studio.”

She emphasizes that her art is a form of resistance. As the occupation continues to attempt to exile them from their land, she describes the Palestinian identity as being engraved in their art and literature and that lives on for centuries. 

“To be an artist is to be your own voice and to challenge everything that you face. That’s the role of art — it’s to stand up for your rights and for your own people’s rights and to say things as they are, without any filters“

Mattar recalls feeling as if she was paralyzed for the first two months after Oct. 7, but soon after, she felt the urge to document the genocide and take action. That’s where her painting ‘‘No Words” comes in. 

There is a stark difference between this painting and Mattar’s earlier pieces. She used to paint many colourful self-portraits, but after Oct. 7, 2023, she described her art as a form of documentation that kept evolving and changing, becoming more miserable and carrying even more pain as the painting evolved. 

“I bought so many watercolours for this piece, but the only ones I reached to were the dark colours,” said Mattar. 

She recalls her childhood and the role art and other mediums played in her life. “To see resilience and determination and turn that destruction into beauty was something that I grew up with,” says Mattar. The turning point for her was when she witnessed her neighbour being killed by an airstrike in 2014. It made her realize that she could be next at any moment, so she sought refuge in mediums like sketching and watercolour. 

“There is no place I would rather make art the way I would in Gaza because it’s such a lost environment to make art in,” said Mattar. 

She emphasizes that literature and art connect Palestinians in the global diaspora to a land that they cannot reach. 

“To be an artist is to be your own voice and to challenge everything that you face; that’s the role of art; it’s to stand up for your rights and for your own people’s rights and to say things as they are without any filters, ” said Mattar.

Many art critics have compared Mattar to renowned artists like Matisse and Picasso. As flattering as that may seem, she stresses the importance of Palestinians being able to carry out their stories through their own lens without feeling the need to be validated by the West. “I’m learning from the past, but we don’t have to compare it to anything in the past because what we’re witnessing is decades and decades of oppression, of colonization and of occupation,” says Mattar.   

As “No Words” laid bare at the Toronto Palestine Film Festival (TPFF) with the realities still unfolding in Gaza, it served as a reminder to everyone of the ongoing suffering of the Palestinian people. But, just as importantly, it attested to their strength and resilience despite the horrors they face.