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<channel>
	<title>Sahar Kubba</title>
	<link>https://atelierjamad.ca</link>
	<description>Sahar Kubba</description>
	<pubDate>Wed, 29 Jan 2020 22:54:56 +0000</pubDate>
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		<title>Home</title>
				
		<link>https://atelierjamad.ca/Home</link>

		<pubDate>Wed, 29 Jan 2020 22:54:55 +0000</pubDate>

		<dc:creator>Sahar Kubba</dc:creator>

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		<title>Sundus, Saif, Sahar, Rasha</title>
				
		<link>https://atelierjamad.ca/Sundus-Saif-Sahar-Rasha</link>

		<pubDate>Wed, 29 Jan 2020 22:54:56 +0000</pubDate>

		<dc:creator>Sahar Kubba</dc:creator>

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		<description>&#60;img width="1400" height="1520" width_o="1400" height_o="1520" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/3dcdb18b602c3e521fa316531efae27f82d880980e1a1e45b6a936b3fa298b02/Sundus.jpeg" data-mid="61230890" border="0"  src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/3dcdb18b602c3e521fa316531efae27f82d880980e1a1e45b6a936b3fa298b02/Sundus.jpeg" /&#62;
It was the first or second week of the war, we were in a small village. My brother and I ran barefoot through abandoned fields full of rocks and broken glass. We tortured insects and made molotov cocktails. My father, out of concern, bought each of us a rabbit, a male and a female.&#38;nbsp; We petted them, fed them and played with them. I don’t remember if we named them. They roamed around my mother’s garden and ate her flowers. She gave them to our neighbours and they ate them. Our neighbours were a big and joyous family, I used to run away from our home and sit quietly at their kitchen to watch them cook, laugh and tell stories. I never saw my rabbit at the center of that happy kitchen.


	
&#60;img width="4136" height="5274" width_o="4136" height_o="5274" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/9b0a52082d041403fb3f046aca9ae561c18d4d749410068cff07113ac38d6dbb/Saif.jpeg" data-mid="60278378" border="0"  src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/9b0a52082d041403fb3f046aca9ae561c18d4d749410068cff07113ac38d6dbb/Saif.jpeg" /&#62;
My father built a small concrete swimming pool in the side yard of the old house. We swam in it sometimes. For a week or so we had fish in it. My brother and I watched the fish and ate mulberries from the tree overhanging the pool. I helped my father scale the fish. Placed the knife against the grain and moved it quickly. A quiet tinkling sound as they broke from the fish’s body, the scales sprinkled around the sink like coloured snowflakes. My mother cooked the fish, and my brother, terrified, ran out screaming that it smelled bad.&#38;nbsp;&#60;img width="1380" height="1678" width_o="1380" height_o="1678" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/9a9891d0cfaed9a83d1a636c996dffc2be6eb2ac6956cce5ee13eb1501c10ac0/Sahar.jpeg" data-mid="60278377" border="0"  src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/9a9891d0cfaed9a83d1a636c996dffc2be6eb2ac6956cce5ee13eb1501c10ac0/Sahar.jpeg" /&#62;My maternal uncle brought four chickens home. He and my mother sat at the front steps of our old house. My mother, disgusted, held the chickens as my uncle beheaded them. My cousin and I watched the headless chickens running around. We picked out the chicken heads from the garbage bin, counted them and played with them. We moved them around like a chess set.&#38;nbsp; Some of their eyes were open.
	&#60;img width="1286" height="1708" width_o="1286" height_o="1708" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/18113fef7e04796496b4523bfd9fae2ae916c19d169bd4139bd99ede560a56e6/Rasha.jpeg" data-mid="60278376" border="0"  src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/18113fef7e04796496b4523bfd9fae2ae916c19d169bd4139bd99ede560a56e6/Rasha.jpeg" /&#62;
My uncle tied the headless lamb to the garage frame in our front yard. He placed a plastic bucket underneath to catch the dripping blood and started to skin it. My uncle was a gentle, sweet man. Seeing him slaughter the animal felt more like affection than violence.&#38;nbsp; I think he was singing. It was a celebration of the end of the war. I placed my hand in the bucket. Vivid, rich, warm, red - I ran and imprinted my hand on the exterior wall of our house. Pretending to be the serial killer that had been roaming around the city that year.

20 Sep. – 20 Oct.&#38;nbsp; ‘19
Sundus, Rasha
Animals,&#38;nbsp;Site:Brooklyn Gallery, Brooklyn, New York
1-30 June ‘19 &#38;nbsp;&#38;nbsp; &#38;nbsp; &#38;nbsp; 
Sundus, Sahar
Discovery: Emerging Artists, Stone Quarry Hill Art Park, Cazenovia, New York
19-29 May ‘19 Saif&#38;nbsp; &#38;nbsp; &#38;nbsp; &#38;nbsp;
Every Woman Biennial, 222 Bowery Gallery, New York
9-13 Jan ‘19 &#38;nbsp;Rasha&#38;nbsp; &#38;nbsp; &#38;nbsp;&#38;nbsp;
Surrealism Group Show, Con Artists Collective, New York
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	<item>
		<title>Unreachable</title>
				
		<link>https://atelierjamad.ca/Unreachable</link>

		<pubDate>Wed, 29 Jan 2020 22:54:56 +0000</pubDate>

		<dc:creator>Sahar Kubba</dc:creator>

		<guid isPermaLink="true">https://atelierjamad.ca/Unreachable</guid>

		<description>&#38;nbsp;

“Everybody slept, sat and ate at the tiled floor, when I started there, we all had about 35 x 180 cm space to sleep in but had to endure kicks every time one of the inmates tried to turn or tried to get up. The suffocating heat and the mass of people sweating all around us mixed with the stink of the pillow was nauseating. Only after two days when I must of smelled worst, that the smell became tolerable. When the number of inmates exceeded 20 a new rule was instated. 6 would sit in a tight circle for about 6 hours while others slept and then they are replaced. Several are exempted and can keep their space at all times they were the drug lord, his protégé, 2 sick inmates and me.” &#38;nbsp;

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“On the fourth day we had to line up and were escorted one at a time to the corridor where we were ordered to sit on a chair while a man with a trimmer just sheared our hair and beard.&#38;nbsp; Somehow this hurt me much more than was reasonable, especially since I don’t have much hair anyway, but I felt that I was violated and another piece of my identity was altered.”

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“A guard came and escorted me back to the cell. Disappointment and despair set in.&#38;nbsp; I went into a deep depression that I was still being investigated when I thought that everything was done. It was Ahmed, only 23 years old that was the one comforting me and giving me advice on the need to be strong and not to give up. He would force me to eat and start conversations that would keep my mind away from my situation. This young man’s influence was so positive that helped me greatly through the next 17 days of total neglect of my case.”



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5-25 Sep ‘16 &#38;nbsp;&#38;nbsp; &#38;nbsp; &#38;nbsp; 
Unreachable, Governor’s Island Art Fair, Governor’s Island, New York
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	<item>
		<title>States of Exception</title>
				
		<link>https://atelierjamad.ca/States-of-Exception</link>

		<pubDate>Wed, 29 Jan 2020 22:54:56 +0000</pubDate>

		<dc:creator>Sahar Kubba</dc:creator>

		<guid isPermaLink="true">https://atelierjamad.ca/States-of-Exception</guid>

		<description>

	&#60;img width="1400" height="1700" width_o="1400" height_o="1700" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/432cc49d40b47aa4060b2f3bc93607976bbdcad41f478852ff7df40bdd518806/States-of-Exception-05.jpg" data-mid="60751227" border="0"  src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/432cc49d40b47aa4060b2f3bc93607976bbdcad41f478852ff7df40bdd518806/States-of-Exception-05.jpg" /&#62;

States of Exception: A Survey of Bare Life is a an architectural reading of the spaces of torture as described in the US senate report on the CIA torture program. These spaces were referred to as "black sites" by the CIA, as they were meant not to officially exist. Each was a point in zero dimensions residing outside of geographical space and history. For the detainees, however, this point becomes an entire universe and an eternity. This point-universe describes a geometry of power, of the infinite reduced to zero, of zero becoming everything. The spaces of torture are built to be absent, forgotten, but they are nonetheless built. The power that wants to erase is nonetheless leaving artifacts. 


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	&#60;img width="700" height="850" width_o="700" height_o="850" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/5be3681e11e812df15b4dbaa0f93c89144215ce436d88931c4024cb29f2b482f/States-of-Exception-04-1.jpg" data-mid="60752291" border="0"  src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/700/i/5be3681e11e812df15b4dbaa0f93c89144215ce436d88931c4024cb29f2b482f/States-of-Exception-04-1.jpg" /&#62;
	&#60;img width="700" height="850" width_o="700" height_o="850" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/37cabe16e7a265c4c124835e5c40986ea01ac74654b04a7a6866861ffb2890f4/States-of-Exception-02.jpg" data-mid="60752289" border="0"  src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/700/i/37cabe16e7a265c4c124835e5c40986ea01ac74654b04a7a6866861ffb2890f4/States-of-Exception-02.jpg" /&#62;
3 Mar - Apr ‘16 &#38;nbsp;&#38;nbsp; &#38;nbsp; Drawing #1&#38;nbsp;
 
Vanishing Point Group Show, Art House Productions Gallery , New Jersey City
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