Elias Zananiri
Elias Zananiri
I first met Elias Zananiri at a hafla, a belly dance party, at the Milwaukee Gay Arts Center. Born in Amman, Jordan, the tall, sleek Palestinian represented an exceedingly small contingent of male dancers in what is otherwise a woman’s realm. His dancing was not, however, simply a male version of the familiar female movements. It was powerfully masculine, mesmerizing, erotically sensual and yet ethereal
Years later he shared an article by Z-Helene Christopher, “Zen, Yoga and the Art of Belly Dance.” In it, the author focused on the mind of the belly dancer and broke down the pervading pedestrian understanding of the art as purely entertainment. She explored the personal discipline, the self-actualization, the self-discovery and related these aspects to yoga and Buddhism. It clearly explained Zananiri’s dance and his achievement of an artistic level that transcends the rudimentary and enters the realm of meditation.
More recently, his artistic creativity has found a new expression, shifting from dance to the visual arts. Several years ago he began to paint. Self-taught with advice from teachers Flora Bowley and Fred Bell, Zananiri has a very specific style. Highly detailed and ornate, rendered in the lavish and vivid color pallete of the Fauvres, his compositions feature dense forests of lush floral or geometric forms, human figures (male, female or transgender), or a mix of all. Dreamlike, modern yet naïve, and largely abstract, his subjects include tropical fantasy worlds (inspired by his trips to Hawaii), homoerotic affection, and, as Zananiri says, “the subconscious of things and the hidden spiritual context behind everything physical.”
His creative process relies on the subconscious and spirituality as well. Works evolve like a mandala, starting from a small shape in the center of the canvas. Lines and shapes eventually fill the field. “The images are imprinted in my subconscious. The painting starts with me trusting the process and trusting the impulse to do something, a shape or a color, without the mind being in the way and hope it becomes an outcome. I grew up in a lot of complexity. As a teen I was more interested in geometry and geometric designs. I used to measure everything, now I don’t. Now I prefer my brain to function more simply,” Zananiri explains, admitting, “It’s hard to talk about it. The painting creates itself. It’s a different roadmap for each painting. I struggle until I let go. When I let go, I finish the painting.”
It’s easy to get pulled into any particular painting and get lost, not only in their intense complexity and dense detail, but also in their elegant peace. It’s also easy not to immediately notice the overt eroticism of an Anthurium among the flora and fauna but still register that certain suggestion. No doubt that’s the idea of the brain functioning simply. The subliminal messaging, as random, symbolic and idiosyncratic as it might be, is still palpable, “without the mind in the way.”
An artist to watch, Zananiri, who until now has exhibited in salons and cafés, is hoping to show his work in a gallery.
