Ars Longa Vita Brevis

"The Prophet said: 'When the generous man stumbles God takes his hand,' and many other hadith speak of generosity. Saladin's was too widespread to be recorded here and too well known to need mention: I shall restrict myself to one significant fact; that he, ruler of all those lands, died leaving forty-seven Nasirite drachmas of silver in his treasury and a single piece of Tyrian gold whose weight I have forgotten." 

 -- From biography of Saladin by Baha' al-Din, tr. by Francesco Gabrieli in Arab Historians of the Crusades, p. 96

In 1180 AD Saladin ordered the construction of his citadel. It remains a landmark in Cairo and is among the most impressive of the many military citadels built in the age of the Crusades. He initiated the work when his power was on the rise. In 1183 he consolidated his control of Syria and Egypt with the capture of Aleppo. In July of 1187, his forces decisively defeated Crusader forces at the battle of Hattin, near Tiberias in present-day Israel. He killed or captured all of the Franks at Hattin and destroyed their offensive power. According to the chronicler Ernoul, Pope Urban III died of shock when the bishop of Tyre brought the news to him in Rome.

Saladin chose a strong defensive position for his fortress on the eastern edge of the city, atop a promontory of the Muqattam Hills. From its inception in the 12th century until the middle of the 19th century, the Citadel would be the seat of government for the rulers of Egypt.

The Seed -- A Street Scene, Quickly Glimpsed

The hilltop position of the Citadel of Saladin affords the sightseer of today a splendid panoramic view of the Egyptian capital. During a visit in December 2015, driving up to the site, we had a brief, bird's eye view of an animated street scene that seemed to me to embody the vibrance and complexity of the city.

I grabbed a quick photo, thinking it might be a painting one day. There was a crowded market and a crazy quilt of minibuses parked every which way. A large white banner with Arabic script hung across the street. Vendors' stalls were piled high with colorful bird cages. Behind the stalls was a low wall, then more buildings and a stretch of greenery that led like a yellow-green carpet to a large minaret and two domes in the near distance. Behind the Islamic monuments, whose style suggested Mamluke-era (13th to 16th century) construction, rose the Muqattam Hills.

This scene seemed so emblematic of Cairo that it stuck with me long after I left Egypt. I thought of attempting it many times, but kept putting it off. Finally, earlier this year, I decided to get it out of my system. I dug up the reference photo. 

I often get asked how long it takes to do a painting, so I thought I would share a bit of the process that went into this one.

First test -- Simplifying Complexity

What drew me to the scene was its complexity but that very complexity also made it a challenge. I analyzed elements of the composition with a view to simplifying it. The backdrop was relatively simple -- hills, minaret/domes, greenery in middle distance, big palm tree, buildings framing on either side. The street scene was not -- competing for attention were a jumble of minibuses and people, stalls with colorful bird cages, a lumbering big red city bus and a big white banner with Arabic writing. An easy solution would be to zero in on just the shops and bird cages. The problem with that was losing those larger background elements that situated the scene not just anywhere but in Cairo at the foot of Saladin's Citadel. 

I did a number of value sketches to diagnose the composition issues, including one full-size one in Payne's Grey. I felt the direction of the light needed to be clearer. The cars drew more attention than the people. And there was a big fence hogging too much attention at the bottom of the scene.

Next -- Organizing Values and Shapes

The hills, domes and minaret would serve as the backdrop. This meant making them comparatively light, so they would recede. The large palm tree, nearer to center stage, would be partially backlit. That meant some strong darks were in order, but the tree would also need lighter fronds on the left side and rear where the light struck it.

The chaotic pattern of the parked cars and minibuses was part of what had originally attracted me to the scene. So how to keep them, but shift more attention to the people in the street? I decided to blur the minibuses into a single mass of connected abstract shapes. Their most conspicuous aspect thus became the light, bright roof reflections snaking down from the big red bus past the white banner and ending at the street scene on the lower left.

... and Opening Up a Path for the Light 

Now, that fence. The reference photo had a long metal fence running along the entire bottom of the scene. I couldn't figure out a way to deal with this that didn't detract from the composition. So I exercised my power to alter reality. I subsumed part of the fence into the shadow and vegetation on the lower left. Another part melted into the minibuses in the center and yet another piece disappeared behind the small yellow-green tree and dark vegetation of the lower right. To complete the destruction, I broke the fence open and inserted a pedestrian gate. This allowed the light to trace a nearly continuous circuit from the bottom of the scene, diagonally up to the shops on the lower left, then on to the big white banner and down the street past the red bus toward the horizon.

These changes, taken together, resulted in a large, pleasing triangle of shops, buses and people flowing from that bottom left quadrant toward a vanishing point at the upper right. To set off the circuit of the light, I added very dark trees, vegetation and shadow at the lower left and right. I toned down the bright yellows and greens immediately under the domes and minaret in the middle distance and strengthened the yellows and greens of the small tree in the lower right foreground. Finally, bright whites and vivid colors spotlighted the street and banner to center stage.

Last Test -- Arabic Script 

What about that banner? I didn't pay too much attention to it at first. The writing was a detail that could be fudged. I supposed the banner was a political or public service message of some sort. But, being curious, I enlarged the reference photo and studied the Arabic carefully. "Do you want to speak English correctly?" it said. "Do you want to learn the computer and languages?" "Foreign and Egyptian instructors!" "Air-conditioned classrooms!" And telephone numbers to call. It seemed a zany, authentic detail worth adding. So, using a very fine nib black ink marker, I wrote out the Arabic message carefully on a piece of scrap watercolor paper, copying both size and style of the original script as carefully as I could. When I was satisfied that what I wrote would fit the available space, I took the plunge and wrote it directly onto the banner freehand.

So that's how the market scene at the foot of Saladin's Citadel came to be.

You will note I did not directly answer the question about how long it takes to complete a painting. That's because it's a two-part answer. In my case, once I have a plan worked out, the actual painting is usually no more than a day or two. Sometimes just a few hours. It depends on how many surprises the watercolor has in store for you and how well you handle them. But the front-end engineering -- coming up with the idea, researching it, figuring out the elements of composition and values, deciding on a palette, doing preliminary drawings, sketches and paintings, then sometimes leaving it all alone and coming back later for another look -- can be anything from hours to years. The seed for this Cairo painting took seven years to germinate.