is the title of Culture Minister Farouk Hosni’s current exhibition at the Institute for Sycophantic Art.As usual, Hosni’s art is spectacular. Touchingly ironic, it shows the naked power of wasta as nothing else really can. Raw acrylics are smeared across the canvas in sweeping, arrogant strokes that dare the viewer to deny this man’s right to hang anything, anywhere, anytime. Including you.
“If my daughter stuck that on the fridge,” observed a critic who works for the international press, “I’d burn it and take her for a psychological assessment.” Or maybe it was the other way around.
Security at the show is tight, with paintings hung high to avoid urine splashes.
The minister, who is also a women’s fashion consultant, was unavailable for comment. But then again, his painting speaks for itself.
