Sliman Mansour obituary: Remembering the Palestinian artist behind a nation's visual memory

A major figure in Palestinian art, renowned artist Sliman Mansour has died aged 79, after his family said he had been in critical condition. The cause of death has not been disclosed.

Said to have “lived longer than the entity of Israel itself,” Sliman spent more than half a century building a body of work rooted in Palestine, documenting its landscapes, people and traditions while reflecting the political realities that have shaped Palestinian life.

Over the course of his career, his paintings were reproduced and circulated far beyond galleries, becoming familiar to Palestinians in the homeland and across the diaspora. He became regarded as the "artist of the Intifada" and went on to gain international recognition, establishing himself as one of the leading figures in modern Palestinian art.

For those who knew him personally, however, his death was not only the loss of an important artist, but also the loss of a father.

Following his death, Sliman's family shared a statement on his Instagram account, remembering him not only for the legacy he left behind but for the love and sense of home he gave his family.

"The final chapter has been written.

"With hearts heavy beyond words, we share that our beloved father has passed away.

"To the world, he leaves behind a life filled with beauty, memory, and a legacy that will continue to live through all those he touched. But to us, we lost a father, our source of love, strength and home.

"Though his journey in this world has come to an end, his spirit, his work, and his love will remain with us always.

"May he rest in eternal peace, surrounded by the light and beauty he gave so generously to this world," the statement said. 

As tributes continue to emerge following his death, The New Arab looks back at the life, work and evolution of an artist whose paintings became part of the visual record of modern Palestine.

Early days

Sliman's interest in art began when he was still a child, long before he became one of Palestine's most recognised artists.

Born in Birzeit, near Ramallah, in 1947, Sliman was the fourth of six children. His father died when he was four, and his mother later sent him and his siblings to a Lutheran boarding school for orphans in Bethlehem. It was there that a German teacher, Felix Theis, noticed Sliman's ability and encouraged him to pursue drawing and painting.

That early encouragement stayed with Sliman as he grew older and helped set him on the path towards becoming a professional artist.

He studied art at the Bezalel Art Academy in West Jerusalem from 1967 to 1970, before beginning a career that would make him one of the leading figures in Palestinian art.

As his work developed, Sliman drew on a wide range of influences. He looked to the region's ancient civilisations, including the Canaanites, Egyptians and Assyrians, while also taking inspiration from Islamic and Arab artistic traditions.

Calligraphy and geometric forms, in particular, became important elements in his work.

His strongest connection, however, remained with the Palestinian landscape and the life he knew growing up in Birzeit, a focus that became particularly significant in the 1970s as he emerged alongside a generation of Palestinian artists, writers and poets who turned to culture to preserve their connection to their homeland, history, memories and traditions amid continued displacement and political unrest.

Sliman's reputation continued to grow, with his work eventually exhibited across the Arab world and internationally. His paintings entered museums and private collections around the world, and he received numerous awards for his contribution to Palestinian and Arab culture.

His work gradually became more political over the years, and during the First Intifada, he helped set up the New Visions group with fellow Palestinian artists Vera Tamari, Tayseer Barakat and Nabil Anani to reflect the experiences of Palestinians and the injustices faced under Israeli occupation.

After Palestinian artists stopped using Israeli-made art materials, the group began experimenting with mud, straw, wood, leather, henna and natural dyes, with Sliman seeing this shift as part of a wider effort to create art rooted in Palestinian life.

In his own words, Sliman said the experience brought together the work of Palestinian artists who came after the Nakba and a younger generation keeping that tradition alive.

From olive trees to Jerusalem

The land of Palestine was one of the most important subjects Sliman returned to throughout his career.

Olive trees, stone terraces and Palestinian villages appeared again and again, carrying ideas of home, belonging and memory. This can be seen in Olive Harvest (1988), which depicts a Palestinian man and woman in traditional clothing gathering olives, placing everyday rural life at the centre of the painting.

Women were another recurring presence. Sliman often depicted them in traditional embroidered clothing, or tatreez, giving them a strong and grounded presence. Through these figures, he explored ideas of motherhood, resilience, cultural identity, and intergenerational connection.

Mother and Child (2009) is one of the works that reflects this theme, placing the relationship between family and Palestinian identity at its centre.

Other familiar symbols also found their way into Sliman’s paintings. Orange trees and Jerusalem became part of a visual language that allowed recognisable details of Palestinian life to carry wider meanings of home and belonging.

One example is Lost Sea II (2015), which draws on these familiar elements while reflecting the deeper emotions attached to place and memory.

Yet among all of Sliman’s paintings, one painting would become particularly powerful and widely recognised: Jamal al-Mahamel (Camel of Hardships).

The painting depicts an elderly porter carrying Jerusalem on his back, making the city feel like a weight he can physically carry.

Over time, the image became associated with Palestinian memory, longing and endurance and was reproduced widely, from posters to homes and shops.

Sliman remembered

Reflecting on Sliman’s legacy, Barjeel Art Foundation founder Sultan Sooud Al-Qassemi paid tribute to him following his death, remembering how widely his work had come to be recognised.

"Sliman's figurative style was immediately recognised by all Palestinians and was adapted into posters, t-shirts, tattoos and mobile phone wallpapers. When Palestinians wanted an image of love, life, or resilience, they were very likely to opt for a painting by Sliman. We lost a giant of modern Arab art,” Al-Qassemi shared.

"Sliman captured a universal Palestinian spirit. His artworks are also among the most recognisable in the Arab world, even to people who aren't very interested in or knowledgeable about art.

"Sliman was part of a group of Palestinian artists who, in the wake of the First Intifada of the 1980s, defied Israeli restrictions on Palestinian life by adapting the materials they used to make art, switching from oil on canvas to locally sourced materials. He became known for his works using mud and straw," he added.

"Using earth to make art was for Sliman also a reflection of Palestinian connectedness to their homeland. Sliman worked from within Palestine and witnessed the harshness of the occupation on a daily basis. His paintings captured this reality, but more importantly, they offered symbols of perseverance to all Palestinians.

"Although Sliman was well known throughout his career, social media brought his work and legacy to a new generation of Palestinians and Arabs. An entire generation of young Palestinian artists was shaped by his legacy, and his work will live on through the countless artworks he produced throughout his career.

"His most famous painting, Camel of Burdens, has been reproduced countless times, whether as a poster or through recreations by other artists. The painting represents the burdens Palestinians carry with them, whether they are in Palestine or in the diaspora.

"For many Arabs, Sliman was able to convey the wide range of emotions we felt towards Palestine, from joy to sadness. As a Palestinian who lived and practised in Palestine, his works were lost, destroyed and confiscated by Israeli authorities, and yet he persisted nonetheless.

"In recent years, his work also achieved significant commercial success, with his paintings selling for hundreds of thousands of dollars at auction. Sliman also drew from both Christian and Islamic heritage in his artwork."

That ability to create paintings that stayed with people was part of what made Sliman so influential among younger Palestinian artists, many of whom came to his work through images that had already become familiar parts of Palestinian life.

Palestinian-American artist Saj Issa had hoped to meet Sliman for years. Whenever she visited Palestine, she would message him about coming to see him, but his declining health meant he eventually stopped receiving visitors.

Her connection to his work, however, began much earlier, through a painting hanging in a neighbour's home in Beitin. The scene was an olive grove, which reminded her of the one near her grandfather’s home.

"The tree is synonymous with Palestinian identity, and Sliman was one of the pioneers in giving Palestinians a visual language and motifs to grasp onto," Issa told The New Arab. 

That sense of connection was also evident in the way Sliman portrayed Palestinian women, Issa said, particularly in their relationship with the land and the work they did within their families and communities.

"His paintings of Palestinian women showed them at their best: tending to our land, adorned with the fruits of their labour, and as breeders of life," she said.

While Sliman's use of colour has sometimes been described as having a Fauvist influence, Issa said his paintings also brought back vivid memories of her own childhood in Palestine.

"I feel as if I’m experiencing the loss of my own grandparent as he transitions into the next life, because I’m going to miss a wise storyteller of an idealised Palestine very dearly," she shared.

Even when Sliman turned to pain and suffering, Issa said, there was a sense of nostalgia in his imagery that reflected the resilience passed down through Palestinian generations.

Palestinian artist Rasha Eleyan also remembers Sliman's work from childhood, when she first encountered one of his most famous paintings.

She recalls seeing Jamal al-Mahamel on posters in people's homes and shops, an image so widely known that its meaning was understood even outside art circles.

“To me, that artwork embodied our struggle,” Eleyan tells The New Arab. "It was such a powerful and popular image that everyone seemed to know it."

Her memories of Sliman went beyond his paintings. He was a close friend of her father, Nasr Abdelaziz, and later of her mother, and Eleyan remembers him as generous with his time and advice.

“I will always remember his humility and how generous he was with his advice whenever I asked for it,” she said.

“He will be deeply missed, but a great artist never dies.”

Eleyan reflects on how Jamal al-Mahamel has taken on a different meaning for her with age, but its ability to speak to Palestinians has not faded. She believes its message will continue to resonate with generations to come.

Sliman's influence as both an artist and teacher is echoed by Palestinian visual artist and calligrapher Alaziz Atef, who described his death as a deeply personal loss.

"He was my extraordinary teacher, the teacher no school ever assigned to me and whose lectures no university required me to attend. He was the teacher I chose to seek out because I wanted him to teach me," Atef tells The New Arab. 

"He placed the light of art in my eyes, ignited an intellectual fire in my mind and planted deep within my heart a profound reverence for Palestine and for humanity. Sliman was not merely an artist whose mastery of colour or captivating painting style could astonish you," Atef adds. 

"He possessed an exceptional artistic mind, with a rare depth of thought and vision. I spent five years with him, five days a week, eight hours a day and often more. That is why this loss feels so immense and so deeply personal. I have lost the teacher who taught me what a painting truly means. And, in return, I taught him what it meant to have a devoted student and a close friend.

"Over time, our relationship grew to the point where I would offer my thoughts on his paintings, and nothing made me happier than when he was persuaded by something I had said and allowed my idea to find its way into his work," Atef continues. 

“What we have lost is immense: a human loss, an Arab loss and a Palestinian loss. Yet today, I grieve for myself even more than I grieve for Palestine. Palestine will always give birth to creators, as it has done before — giving us Sliman Mansour, Mahmoud Darwish and Ghassan Kanafani."

As for Palestinian artist Bashar Alhroub, he remembered Mansour not only as a major figure in Palestinian art, but also as a friend, colleague and mentor whose influence extended across generations of artists: "Sliman Mansour was much more to me than simply a major figure in the history of Palestinian art. He was a friend, a colleague, and an artist whose presence had a profound impact on generations of Palestinian artists, including myself. I will always remember him not only through his works and images, which have become icons of Palestinian visual memory, but also through his humanity, humility and deep connection to Palestine and its people.

"The significance of Sliman’s practice lies in his ability to transform the Palestinian experience, with all its loss, displacement, resilience and sense of belonging, into a visual language that reached far beyond Palestine. His images of the land, its people, Jerusalem and exile have become part of our collective visual memory. Through his practice, he demonstrated the power of art to preserve identity and memory in the face of attempts at erasure," Alhroub tells The New Arab.

"I believe Sliman’s legacy for future generations of artists lies in this profound commitment to place and history, and in his ability to be deeply Palestinian while speaking to a universal human experience. He taught us that artistic practice need not be separated from an artist's responsibility to society and collective memory," Alhroub adds. 

"Sliman Mansour's work will remain an essential part of Palestine's visual history, and his legacy will continue to live through the memory and practice of generations of artists. His passing is not only a profound loss for Palestinian art and culture, but also a great loss for Arab art. His artistic and human presence extended far beyond Palestine and left a lasting impact on the wider Arab art world."

Zainab Mehdi is a British Iraqi journalist and the Associate Features Editor at The New Arab. She holds a BSc in Modern History and International Relations from the University of Essex and an MA in Near and Middle Eastern Studies from SOAS

Follow her on Instagram: @zaiamehdi_/@zainabmehdiwrites_