‘Living in Cyprus is like being in a bizarre dream’
“Cyprus is completely surreal – a weird, fantastical dream!” We often think of surrealism in art: Dali’s melting clocks and Magritte’s Son of Man, where the familiar meets the bizarre. But in dictionary terms, ‘surreal’ is slightly more precise; it’s anything that’s ‘marked by the intense irrational reality of a dream.’
“Isn’t that just what it’s like to live in Cyprus?” asks Alex. “Everything here feels kind of a bit fantastical: ghost towns next to luxury resorts; silent buffer zones beside riotous nightclubs; ultra-rich investors mixing with impoverished immigrants…”
A well-known graphic designer, Alex (not his real name – we’ll get to that in a bit) is the man behind Cyprus Surreal. An Instagram account that’s wildly different from the ubiquitous ‘I’m hot and so is the weather’ pics, Alex’s imaginative posts turn Cyprus on its head…
Here are the sleepy backstreets of Old Nicosia – yet an outsize disco ball rests forebodingly on the cobbles. There’s a shot of Nissi, with thousands of rainbow balloons floating across the bay. And, on the Venetian Walls, flapping doves are trapped in a green glass box.
We get a familiar church wrapped in plastic; a modern lighthouse swathed in Lefkara lace. On Larnaca’s ancient salt lake deformed figures confront their reflection in a massive, mirrored moon. And an abandoned town that might well be Varosha is presided over by one, enormous tabby cat!
“Surreal is a word we have begun to use more and more over the last few years,” suggests Alex. “Who could look at the world as it is and not think ‘this is bizarre’? We’ve got NASA publicly referencing UFOs. Environmentalists in Europe saving the planet by destroying art. An impeached American running for president!”
According to Merriam Webster, ‘surreal’ has indeed seen a huge rise in popularity. The dictionary named it word of the year in 2016, noting that searches surged after the Brussels bombings in March, Brexit in June, and July’s coup attempt in Turkey.
“I think it’s a good thing we didn’t know back then that the pandemic was coming!” says Alex. “Because that was possibly the most surreal time the world has ever experienced. Especially in Cyprus, where measures were often nonsensical. You could attend our busy churches, but not to our empty theatres. And you had to be home by curfew – as if, after 9pm, the virus prowled the streets.”
This surreality, suggests Alex, spans the island’s history.
“Living in Cyprus is like being in a bizarre dream! Our past is marked by dramatic, sudden shifts in rule; abrupt invasions and mass influxes. It’s like a play where the layers of scenery have got stuck, leaving us with backdrops that no longer match the current act.
“That’s what I’m portraying in Cyprus Surreal,” he explains. “A reality that often feels like a series of disjointed, almost hallucinatory experiences. My art tries to capture that essence, to show the bizarre beauty of this island – a place where ancient and modern, East and West, wealth and poverty, tranquillity and turmoil meet and jar.”
One of Alex’s most recent posts depicts a village donkey. It’s gradually being consumed by glitter.
“The donkey is among Cyprus’ most iconic animals – a symbol of our culture and history. But, by covering it in something you’d be more likely to see on a clubbing tourist, you’re asking the viewer to question their reality: what does our island stand for? What is our identity now?”
Identity is a strong theme for Alex. Intelligent, creative and contemplative, he’s thought deeply about revealing who he is. “But, on a small island where friends and family often feel obligated to support you purely because they know you, or your work, I’ve decided to remain anonymous. To let the art speak for itself…
“Throughout time, art has been there to guide us. It’s always been a vital way for us to make sense of our feelings. And this type of artificially generated art is no different,” he adds. “Like Photoshop or printing or photography, the machine does the work. But the idea itself, the emotion and the direction, that has to come from the artist.”
Launched in late June, Cyprus Surreal is still relatively new. But it’s already gained a huge following; mostly, says Alex, among those who don’t blindly accept the status quo.
“Maybe what I’m doing is a good way to express how a lot of people feel about Cyprus,” says Alex. “Our everyday lives are permeated with the surreal: for 50 years, we’ve seen a political and geographical landscape that’s starkly divided, transforming Cyprus into a place where two distinct worlds exist within the same borders.
“Economically, the contrasts are just as glaring. Cyprus is a hub for high-end investments and luxury tourism, yet it grapples with youth unemployment and the remnants of a significant financial crisis.
“And, as a people, we fashion a surreal existence for ourselves. By day, we work three jobs on minimum wage. But by night, we post photos of ourselves in designer fakes. We say we’re travellers, explorers, yet we save all year to holiday on a Greek island that’s basically the same as our own. And we spend thousands on a new car when we can’t pay rent.
“Half our country is missing, but we’re more concerned by how we’re perceived by others? I think that’s a bit surreal.”
As an artist, Alex is an observer. “My art doesn’t judge unless you want to see judgement in it,” he explains. “But it does challenge you to look at Cyprus in a new light.
“It challenges you to question a country that voted a YouTuber into the EU Parliament. That, during a global pandemic, had lockdowns so strict that our ever-social island became silent for weeks on end. That saw the government bail itself out with money from its own people!
“And maybe, in the brushstrokes of digital surrealism, we can begin to understand our own disjointed reality. To make sense of what is happening in Cyprus.”
Alex posts to the Instagram account cyprussurreal once a day