Miss (you) World juxtaposes images of Miss World contests with bombs falling, and apocalyptic quotes from politicians, philosophers, and the Talmud. Its creator May Safwat explains the thinking behind it.
Can you tell us a bit about you and your background?
I am an artist, filmmaker and tutor. Born in North London.
What spurred the idea to start Miss (you) World? How would you describe it to the uninitiated?
Miss (you) World is a magazine about the frailty of humanity. The absurdity of war. The destructive nature of power, that as a collective, we are addicted to. The beauty in our collective weakness. The frustration we have with politics that causes mental and physical numbness. Understanding that the world is on fire, but also remembering how “most of us are searching – consciously or unconsciously – for a degree of internal balance and harmony between ourselves and the outside world.” Walter Murch.
What would you like to achieve with its publication? What takeaways would you like people to have?
I am telling a story that people can digest in a number of ways. I have seen people laugh, look confused, some are not sure how to react and gently close the book so they don’t have to deal with it. And I think each reaction is perfect. I want people to react to it however they feel in that moment, whatever way it resonates with them. That includes hating it, but obviously I would love for them to enjoy it.
It feels like Adam Curtis committed to print at times. Did he inspire its creation or who did?
Wow, thank you for the compliment. I think when it comes to making work you have to do it from a place of honesty and that hopefully then resonates with someone else. I think it is easy to get caught up in making work with a fantasy person in our mind that we are trying to impress. You can’t edit a film thinking of how Obama would interpret it because, you as the artist, then get lost in a fake world you have created. I try and make work that interests and moves me – if that then connects with someone, great!
You are half Lebanese and half Iraqi. Does having roots in two renowned ‘conflict’ zones inform your creative process? Is this question, somewhat, lazy and predictable?
Uber drivers often ask me where I am from (thinking small talk will up their ratings) I always start with ‘London, I was born in North Finchley.’ Which is then often laughed at and they say ‘no, no, where are you from originally.’ My dad tells me to say, ‘the moon, tell them you come from the moon.’ Which I once tried but it didn’t work. We definitely have a manipulated opinion on some countries. The 1992 Disney film Aladdin was originally meant to be set in Baghdad but following the Gulf War they decided to call it Agrabah. The Arab women in the publication remind me of my sweet little aunts. I wanted to show their humanity, their beauty.
You pair quotes by people such as Adam Gopnik and Alexis de Tocqueville? Is the decision to quote men alongside female imagery a conscious one?
We are a community organised on patriarchal lines and this is an underlying theme of the magazine. Men still hold the majority of power and women are, to an extent, excluded from it. It was not a conscious decision, the quotes themselves were what enticed me to them.
You lecture in Central Saint Martins having graduated from there a decade ago. How responsive or changeable are teaching methods to the times we live in? What has changed since you studied there in terms of emphasis and method?
Teaching reminds me of a story I once read by Idres Shah. A young man who had spent several years training to be a doctor without having seen a single patient grew tired of waiting and pleaded with his mentor to be allowed to treat one patient. His advisor explained to him that he is not yet ready but the young man keeps insisting. Finally, the mentor agrees that the next patient who enters will be his to examine.
An old man enters the room and before he has taken his seat the mentor tells the young doctor that this patient is in need of pomegranates. Just as the old man is about to begin explaining his illness the young doctor shouts out “Pomegranates, you need pomegranates!”
The old man objects “That’s absurd!” and leaves.
The young doctor is shocked and turns to his advisor ‘but he needs pomegranates why did he leave?’
A few weeks pass and a new patient who also needs pomegranates entered the room. The doctor welcomes him and asks about his affairs, his relatives and his health. He listens as the man describes a long list of thoughts and worries. The doctor takes a few moments to think and says, “You need something sour, a lemon. No, not so bitter, you need something red, something sweet but not too sweet. Yes, yes my friend I have it, you need pomegranates. The man is overcome with happiness. ‘Yes doctor thank you, Pomegranates I will eat some straight away.” The man leaves the room elevated. Mystified, the young doctor says to his mentor. ‘But I also advised pomegranates why did he listen to you and not me?’
‘Ah, but you see, he needed time and pomegranates.’
My experience of being a student has helped me understand the role needed from a tutor. At times an artist also needs time, and it is my role to know when and how to guide the individual and help them develop their own methods of working.
What’s next for Miss (you) World?
My next project is based on data privacy, surveillance and Edward Snowden.
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Words: Michael McDermott