Latest news with #Ijazah
Shafaq News
21-05-2025
- General
- Shafaq News
Spirit in the script: Iraq's Ramadi guardian of calligraphy
Shafaq News/ In a quiet corner of Ramadi city in central Iraq, Imad al-Khattat dips his pen into ink and begins tracing a verse in Jali Diwani script. Around him, the walls are lined with canvases of calligraphy—each stroke a reflection of discipline, memory, and faith. 'When I write, I don't follow the line,' he says. 'The line follows me.' Al-Khattat established Al-Anbar's first Arabic calligraphy studio in 1976. He was the province's first member of the Iraqi Calligraphers Association, alongside colleagues from Fallujah and Haditha. Their membership helped formalize a craft long absent from the region's artistic institutions. 'Calligraphy isn't decoration,' he told Shafaq News. 'It's a language of spirit.' His career spans nearly five decades, during which he has participated in regional exhibitions in Turkiye, Sharjah, Dubai, and Amman. Despite the exposure, he has never accepted awards. 'Competitions are based on taste, not integrity,' he explained. 'The work speaks for itself.' One of al-Khattat's most renowned pieces, Al-Hilya, combines Thuluth, Ijazah, and Jali Diwani scripts, structured around classical ratios and adorned with religious phrases. He views it as a spiritual offering. 'It's not a product; it's a written prayer.' He also criticized the growing practice of digital replication, where calligraphers' signatures are removed and their works are marketed under other names. 'It's not just theft—it's deletion.' Al-Khattat recalls working at a local glass factory early in his career, where he applied gold calligraphy to drinking vessels and supervised their design through kiln processing. He credits this experience with shaping his precision and patience. 'I begin with Jali Diwani, then Thuluth, Diwani, Taliq, and finally Ijazah... Each script leads me where it wants.' Text selection, he insists, is never arbitrary. Religious verses, invocations, and classical Arabic poetry form the core of his work. 'If the viewer feels nothing, the piece has failed.' Today, the Iraqi calligrapher works privately on hand-copying the Quran—a task he considers the pinnacle of his artistic and spiritual journey. However, he refuses to sell his original pieces. 'They hold part of me,' he said. 'You can't assign a price to that.'
Shafaq News
12-05-2025
- General
- Shafaq News
Spirit in the script: Ramadi's guardian of calligraphy
Shafaq News/ In a quiet corner of Ramadi, Imad al-Khattat dips his pen into ink and begins tracing a verse in Jali Diwani script. Around him, the walls are lined with canvases of calligraphy—each stroke a reflection of discipline, memory, and faith. 'When I write, I don't follow the line,' he says. 'The line follows me.' Al-Khattat established Anbar's first Arabic calligraphy studio in 1976. He was the province's first member of the Iraqi Calligraphers' Association, alongside colleagues from Fallujah and Haditha. Their membership helped formalize a craft long absent from the region's artistic institutions. 'Calligraphy isn't decoration,' he told Shafaq News. 'It's a language of spirit.' His career spans nearly five decades, during which he has participated in regional exhibitions in Turkiye, Sharjah, Dubai, and Amman. Despite the exposure, he has never accepted awards. 'Competitions are based on taste, not integrity,' he noted. 'The work speaks for itself.' One of al-Khattat's most renowned pieces, al-Hilya, combines Thuluth, Ijazah, and Jali Diwani scripts, structured around classical ratios and adorned with religious phrases. He views it as a spiritual offering. 'It's not a product; it's a written prayer.' He also criticized the growing practice of digital replication, where calligraphers' signatures are removed and their works marketed under other names. 'It's not just theft—it's deletion.' Al-Khattat recalls working at a local glass factory early in his career, where he applied gold calligraphy to drinking vessels and supervised their design through kiln processing. He credits this experience with shaping his precision and patience. His workflow follows a practiced instinct. 'I begin with Jali Diwani, then Thuluth, Diwani, Taliq, and finally Ijazah,' he explained. 'Each script leads me where it wants.' Text selection, he insists, is never arbitrary. Religious verses, invocations, and classical Arabic poetry form the core of his work. 'If the viewer feels nothing, the piece has failed.' Today, al-Khattat works privately on hand-copying the Quran—a task he considers the pinnacle of his artistic and spiritual journey. However, he refuses to sell his original pieces. 'They hold part of me,' he said. 'You can't assign a price to that.'
