In the vibrant world of storytelling, few individuals manage to seamlessly blend the art of words with the magic of visuals. Zahra Marwan is a gifted illustrator and writer whose work transcends the boundaries of traditional storytelling. With a unique ability to craft compelling narratives and bring them to life through enchanting illustrations, Marwan captivates audiences of all ages. Join us as we explore the creative journey and inspirations behind Marwan’s remarkable works.
Kuwait Times: Tell us more about yourself.
Zahra Marwan: I’m 35 years old, should-have-been Kuwaiti yet American. I live in an apartment that overlooks cottonwood trees near the Rio Grande River and work out of a studio at the Harwood Art Center nearby. I sleep, burn bukhoor when I need to, dream a lot and embody the Kuwaitiness I’m able to keep in everything I do.
KT: When did you start writing/drawing, and who or what encouraged you?
Marwan: My sister-in-law Yoko gave me a notebook when I graduated from high school at 17. I wrote quotes from books, noted my thoughts, defined words, made little drawings and was never afraid to express myself honestly. My older brother encouraged me to draw as a child and to take art classes in high school. He was inspired by our uncle, prominent painter AbdulReda Baqer, and his son, our cousin Ali Baqer, the artistic pride of the family.
My older brothers invested deeply in my alternative education, sharing their love of Russian literature, French cinema, our father’s poetry, theater and photography, their loud witty stories and my mom recounting dreams and memories with me each morning. I have such a beautiful family!
KT: Can you share a specific project where you felt your skills as both an illustrator and a writer complemented each other particularly well?
Marwan: My first book was about not wanting to leave my family and home as a child and the luck of coming to a place where people treated me like I belonged. Even with something this personal, it had its challenges.
KT: How many awards have you won so far? And how many books have you written/illustrated so far?
Marwan: How to answer this humbly?! I received the following awards: New York Times/New York Public Library Best 10 Best Illustrated Books, United Nations Award for art that brings visibility to minority, indigenous and stateless rights, Ezra Jack Keats Honor for Illustration, Society of Illustrators in NYC – Dilys Evans Founders Award, a New Mexico Writers Grant, Out from the Margins Award from the Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators, a Makers Muse Award, a Creative Bravos Award from the City of Albuquerque, and the Women in Creativity Shine Award. I received nine awards among other honors.
As for books, I have one book published, two that will be published in September, one that will be published next spring, and four more in progress. I have eight books either out in the world or in the works.
KT: When writing a book, do you start with the visuals or the text?
Marwan: Always the text, like clearing the way through a dust storm or managing to see through the humidity of inspiration.
KT: Who are some of your biggest influences in both writing and illustration, and how have they shaped your creative approach?
Marwan: I learned a lot from watching Albuquerque’s flamenco professionals. They give so much every day to hone their craft. It was inspiring to see what it means to be a working artist. In recent years, I’ve been inspired by the way you can feel a writer’s voice, like Daniel Nayeri, poet Kaveh Akbar or humor essayist David Sedaris’ deep cynicism. I like fragmented ideas that feel real. I used to love Kurt Vonnegut when I was young. Regarding illustrators, let’s start with Kuwaiti artist Reem Madooh, who brought a Palestinian story to thriving light in the US publishing world. Quiet and deeply thoughtful, her colors and compositions are so full of life.
KT: How do you hope your illustrations and stories resonate with your audience on an emotional level, and what do you wish for them to take away from your work?
Marwan: I’m grateful when anyone reaches out, saying my work reminds them of a memory, or they feel what I feel, or they in some way resonate or care. It feels like a miracle to be able to relate to people from the obscurity and beauty of the arts.