Anhar Salem: A Diary of Private/Public Escapes

The exhibition "A Diary of Private/Public Escapes" was presented on the CIFRA platform from April 15 to May 20. Through her films, Anhar Salem invites viewers into a personal diary, where moving through the works feels like turning the pages of her life—discovering her thoughts, emotions, observations, and the realities unfolding around her. You open the diary of Anhar Salem, who writes not to explain life, but to experience it fully. Her films often begin by accident, with simple gestures — picking up a phone, turning on the camera. Sometimes these are random shots, they are moments she wishes to remember, or snippets of music from the next room she may not want to hear again. Occasionally, they serve as a recording of her life, conversations, walks through the city, or even small escapes from everyday life. These moments may seem ordinary, many of us often have too much phone footage – for Anhar Salem, though, it is essential to stay with this simplicity and uncover the extraordinary depth of existence. Born in Jeddah in 1993 to a family of Yemeni and Indonesian descent, Anhar Salem has developed a strong awareness of different cultural contexts. Most of her films are shot on a phone camera, which is always close at hand — often in a back pocket. Its ease strips away the pretension often associated with traditional video artist tools, turning it into something neutral and social. In Anhar Salem's hands, the camera becomes a constant companion, not trying to control the world or organise the narrative, but rather lingering like a fragile pulse of life, capturing what and whom passes. Her frames feature herself, led by her loved ones, her sister Ansam Salem, Doody (Badriah Ahmed), Lujain Ahmed, Asaad Badawi, Vladimir (Mohammed), Suaad Jbreel, and other acquaintances. And within the occasional still life, we don’t see lifeless objects, but vibrant subjects. Today, in many parts of the world, being seen is deemed a taboo. Everyday life operates under strict rules that define how and where people can look and behave. Expressing oneself on one’s own terms is not always guaranteed. Who truly has the freedom to move around the city unaccompanied? Who can listen to music without hesitation? Who is allowed to laugh without drawing unwanted attention? Anhar Salem's work moves through these rules. These are not dramatic acts of resistance, but a way of noticing where boundaries appear — and who sets them. Sometimes the atmosphere shifts. A familiar street feels deserted, you are there differently, someone lingers too long, or laughter fills a space that should be silent. These are the moments where something shifts – a quiet kind of courage that can completely reshape the fabric of routine life. Daily choreography breaks: risk appears in small deviations, gesture signals freedom, and a person briefly moves beyond roles assigned by others. Anhar Salem observes these ‘mistakes’ — small breaks from what is expected, but traditions contrary to tradition, in the name of freedom, a small escape that shapes a different way of being in the world. The exhibition feels like quietly scrolling through a phone gallery late at night, with the screen as the only light in the room. Images appear one after another: endless streets, an unfamiliar face, a fragment of music, rain. Each frame feels close, and every film resembles a fragment captured just for you, with no need for explanation. Anhar Salem builds a quiet connection with the viewer, bringing up private memories we return to alone. Within this diary, even the most overlooked details reveal their own weight. The exhibition unfolds chronologically, beginning with "Bridge" (2015) and "Eyes" (2015), where movement and perception are still tentative, testing the limits of presence and visibility. From "Labyrinth" (2016) onward, this movement expands outward, tracing a series of attempts to navigate space — not as freedom, but as a condition shaped by constraints. Works from this period ("Dust", "You | Red", "Rain", all 2016) shift between external environments and altered states of perception, where time, light, and bodily presence begin to lose stability. With "Death of Stars" (2017), this trajectory turns inward, becoming more personal and introspective. "The Dying Carousel" (2018) briefly reintroduces an outward movement, now marked by a different energy — more open, yet still fragile. In "The Sleeping Sun Station" (2021), memory itself becomes unstable, moving beyond the individual into a shared, shifting space. The exhibition concludes with "Love & Revenge" (2022), shot as usual collaboratively with her loved ones, where the question of reality is reframed through the image — as something that can be constructed, inhabited, and potentially used as a form of escape, becomes a vital existential confrontation within the exact political and social context. As we progress through the exhibition, attention adjusts to a rhythm with music running quietly through it. The artist is present in almost every frame, making us feel as though we have known her for a long time. This offers glimpses of something deeply familiar and suddenly tender, even if we have never experienced it ourselves. In Anhar Salem’s works, freedom comes quietly — in leaving home, in wandering, in choosing to be alone, in following the rhythm of the city. Her works do not proclaim themselves to be acts of escape, but small movements beyond what once felt fixed. Start watching — and see where your escape begins.