Nasry Haddad never set out to be an artist, he was a collector first, drawn to antiquities and paintings from an early age. He’ll be the first to say he doesn’t really consider himself one. But after enough friends, collectors, and intrigued strangers kept asking, “Wait! you made this?” he gave in, picked up the brush, and started to paint his soul; raw as it is.
Born in Lebanon, shaped by life in Dubai and China, and fueled by too many gallery stops and museum wanderings in London, Paris, and wherever inspiration struck, Haddad’s work is instinctive, emotional, daring and massively chaotic. He trained with the legendary Emanuel Guiragossian, but his own style? That came from somewhere else entirely; something spiritual, ethereal… like a rebellious child armed with the wisdom of a 50-year-old, dancing through color.
His figures blur, moods shift, and lines never behave, they twist, tease, and leave a mark. Think bold, abstract expressionism after a few drams of a beautifully aged single malt whisky. His work has drawn comparisons to Twombly, Dubuffet, and even contemporary Basquiat, but really, he’s just Nasry: not traditional, free in spirit, and never one to follow the rules.
He may not wear the “artist” label with much seriousness. But his art? It misbehaves beautifully; and it definitely knows how to talk to your soul.
