This semester I have been fortunate enough to study in Amman, Jordan. Art has always been a very important part of my life, and during the three months that I have been here, I have sought to understand the city through its art scene. I am a firm believer that you can find art in everything, but Amman’s street art scene is only in its beginning, and finding it was not as easy as I expected. In a previous post about the recent revolution in Lebanon, I discussed the abundance of street art in Beirut. In Amman this has not been the case; street art in Jordan’s capital is fairly limited (although growing) both in number and to the locations that accept this form of public expression.

Growing acceptance surrounding street art in the Jordanian capital has contributed to a rise in the use of public space for personal expression. In a previous contribution to the Weaving the Streets series, Bridget Ireland observed, “In some ways it is the lack of a lot of street art that makes each piece stand out so much.” Two years later, in 2019, this still rings true. The monochromatic structures give Amman a beauty of its own kind, and it has provided the perfect canvas for artists to begin creating pieces that bring life and energy to their already vibrant communities.

The piece above depicts a famous Syrian actor and artist named Naji Jaber, best known for his TV and film role as Abu Antar (which is written in Arabic just above the spray paint can in the mural). I found it while walking through Jabal Weibdeh, a neighborhood in Amman known for its “artsy” vibe. The neighborhood is home to a significant portion of visual street art in the city. If you weren’t paying attention, the piece would be easy to miss, as it’s not facing the street and is on the side of a corner building in a small parking space.

In creating the piece, the artist, Sardine, was first told by a resident of the building that he could not paint here. He was later told by the building’s owner that it wouldn’t be a problem as long as the mural was decent and did not offend anyone. Such a scenario speaks to the varying attitudes surrounding street art in Amman. Some are stoutly against the use of public space for artistic expression, while others accept it as long as it doesn’t challenge societal norms or cause schisms within communities.

I also found this mural in Jabal Weibdeh. Unlike the former piece, this one was impossible to miss. The mural is located on a bustling street filled with pedestrians, cars, barber shops, cafes, fruit stands, and an array of other miscellaneous shops. One of the most interesting components of street art is that each piece tells its own story, but the story is different for every viewer. The artist obviously had an intent for this mural, but since street art is not part of the artistic canon, it’s more difficult to find information regarding what the artist intended to say.

To me, as an American student in Jordan, the mural reflects the diversity that can be found in the city. A common misconception among Americans, and maybe more broadly in the “western” world, is that the Arab world is a homogeneous region where all the people share common physical traits, the same way of life, the same societal attitudes, and so on. During my time in Jordan I have found that this idea could not be farther from the truth. It would be impossible to classify Jordanians using a single characteristic. Jordan is home to Christians, Muslims, Jews, Arabs, Circassians, “Jordanian-Jordanians” (those born in Jordan with Jordanian ancestry), “Palestinian-Jordanians” (those born in Jordan with Palestinian ancestry), devoutly religious groups, secular groups, expats, refugees, and many others. The mural reminds me of such a reality, as the colors and traits of each figure define the individual rather than painting a homogeneous image of what it means to be Jordanian.

These three murals were in an empty lot whose surrounding walls were also covered in street art. The lot is between an extremely busy street with two lanes of traffic going in either direction to its right and a quiet street with very few vehicles to its left. I attempted to find more information about these pieces and I searched the handle @ak.hasan, which is found under the text in the middle. However, my search was unsuccessful. If anyone has information about this artist, feel free to leave a comment on this post. Without being able to contextualize these pieces, I was reminded that while street art does often reflect societal issues, sometimes its purpose is simply to portray beauty and to evoke emotion through shared public space.

Through much of this project, I have sought to understand the world around me through its art. Contextualization is important, but it can also cloud our perception of art. We see what we want to see, and we apply meaning where we think it should be applied, which may not always be what the artist intended. Perhaps I am attracted to these pieces for personal reasons. I can find solace in the phrase “we come from two different worlds and together we can make it our own” because of personal relationships I have had in my life.

The artist certainly intended to evoke this type of emotion from anyone passing by, but because he or she chose to write in English instead of Arabic, the intended audience is more specific. I cannot speak to why the artist made this decision or who is intended to read it.. All I can say is that the decision significantly changes the breadth of the impact of the piece. It has reminded me that street art does not always have to revolve around a well-known issue. The issues Jordanian street artists face are often of a personal nature and these issues are reflected in their art just as much as public issues.

While the street art movement in Amman is only beginning to emerge, the artists have taken the blank canvas of the city to express both the personal and the public. Inshallah, in the years to come, they will continue using public spaces for artistic expression.