Photography is not just an artistic practice for Egyptian photographer Maryam Ashraf, but rather a way to save memories from oblivion, which prompted her to document the craft of furniture making, which has been linked to the identity of the Egyptian city of Damietta for a decade, but is on the verge of disappearing today.
Like many people who grew up in Damietta, Ashraf grew up with the echo of nails hammering, chainsaws ringing, and voices embedded in her childhood memories.
During the “Made of Wood” project, the Egyptian photographer monitored the collapse of the furniture industry that families had inherited over generations, and the subsequent closure of workshops, the loss of heritage, and severe losses.
Ashraf says in an interview with CNN Arabic: “It is the story of a city, the story of a craft, and my story as well.”
"Furniture City"
The name Damietta was associated in Egyptian memory with being the “City of Furniture,” according to Ashraf, who explains that it was “the destination that people about to get married went to because of the quality of its wood and the skill of its craftsmen.”
But this identity began to erode with the decline of the furniture industry and the closure of many workshops, some of which were more than half a century old.
The collapse of the sector prompted many craftsmen to leave the profession they inherited from their fathers.
Ashraf noted: “Some of them turned to other jobs, while others could not bear the weight of the loss, so they chose to end their lives with their own hands.”
In her photographic works, the Egyptian photographer documented the remaining workshops in their daily state, the people who still work in them, as well as the effects of the profession on their bodies and lives. I also tried to highlight the void and change that the decline of industry left in the city.
While talking with professionals, the Egyptian photographer discovered that this craft was not just a source of income for some of them, but rather it was part of their identity, dignity, and sense of their value.
On the other hand, Ashraf noticed among some craftsmen a great feeling of helplessness, as she says: “Some of them did not have the opportunity to receive an education or obtain a primary certificate, and thus their options became very limited when the furniture industry declined.”
The matter reached the point where one of them had to work delivering orders or selling vegetables in order to be able to support his family, after he owned his own workshop.
What affected it most was the adherence of some craftsmen to rare crafts, such as wood carving, even though they are in danger of extinction.
Ashraf explains: “Some of them were talking about it as an art and not just a profession, and they stuck to its details and accuracy even as demand for it declined.”
These scenes made her realize that what is happening in Damietta is not only related to the decline of the furniture industry, but rather to a change in people’s lives, and a city’s relationship with a craft that was an essential part of its identity and memory.
The Egyptian photographer confirms that the project “is not only a documentation of the collapse of an industry, but rather an attempt to preserve part of the memory of a city whose identity was formed through work, the memory of people, workshops, and the craft that was passed from one generation to another and today has begun to disappear, leaving behind a crack in the collective memory of the city.”
