Like all those who knew the war, Afaf Sader kept in her heart bruises, a diffuse grief, a certain melancholy that she tries to fight through the practice of painting. Installed at dawn in front of her easel, in her bright studio, with windows opening onto a grove of pines overlooking the city, this artist with quivering sensitivity strives tirelessly to transpose the strata of her interior landscapes onto canvas.
Zeina Zalzal