Migration is often spoken of in numbers, policies, and borders, but rarely through the human stories etched into faces. Each journey carries not just miles crossed but identities reshaped, and every face tells a piece of that untold narrative. In her series Portraits, Syrian artist Hiba Aizouq turns the focus to these faces: faces that carry pain, strength, and memories all at once. Using bold brushstrokes and vivid colors, she dismantles the stereotypes surrounding migrant women and invites us to see beyond the labels of “refugee” or “victim.” These portraits are not just images; they are encounters. They confront us with gazes that challenge, question, and sometimes quietly accuse. Through four distinct faces, Aizouq reveals how migration is not a singular experience but a mosaic of struggles and resistances. Each portrait whispers a different story, yet together they form a collective voice that refuses to be silenced.
The figure looking over her shoulder establishes a direct connection with the viewer. Her expression is strong and defiant, a quiet yet powerful stance against gender-based violence, discrimination, displacement, and the homogenizing gaze that tries to erase individuality. Sharp brushstrokes and vibrant colors (especially the turquoise background) symbolizes her resilience, while the pink and blue tones on her face capture both vulnerability and courage. In this gaze, you can almost hear her saying, “I am here, and I have a story to tell.”
The second portrait is softer, carrying a more mournful and exhausted expression than the first. In the blend of purple and yellow, a gentle yet almost melancholic atmosphere unfolds. The reddish hue in her eyes speaks of sleepless nights and endless journeys, the fatigue of a life woven with pain and struggle. Yet within this exhaustion lies no surrender, but rather a profound maturity, a wisdom that has emerged from enduring hardship. This face seems to embody one of the silent survivors of migration.
Here, the face appears more reproachful, more fed up than simply tired. Dominated by shades of blue, it carries a quiet sense of grievance, as if the figure is silently saying, “You don’t understand me.” The harsher brushstrokes and pronounced shadows amplify this tension, making the dissatisfaction almost palpable. It is a subtle yet powerful protest against how the vital issues of migrant women are instrumentalized within power relations and rendered invisible.
Finally, the fourth portrait reveals a figure that has clearly been through the mill, her face marked by both temper and resilience. Painted with a chaotic blend of green, blue, and orange, the colors swirl together like the tangled realities of migration. Her eyes, fixed firmly on the viewer, are weary yet unmistakably alert, embodying the constant vigilance forced upon immigrant women by the difficulties and stereotypes they endure. In this expression, one can read both resentment and the unrelenting struggle for survival; yet also a quiet, unyielding strength that refuses to be broken.
Standing before Hiba Aizouq’s Portraits it’s impossible to remain a distant observer. Each gaze reaches out and demands to be seen not as an image on a wall but as a life fully lived: messy, painful, beautiful, and unbroken. The faces do not ask for pity, they ask for recognition. Through color, texture, and expression Aizouq transforms the stories of migrant women from silent statistics into undeniable presences. While each portrait holds details that may seem different or even opposing, they come together to speak of an unyielding resistance against oppression, omission, intimidation, and homogenization.
With a distinctly female gaze Aizouq shows how being a migrant, a woman, and part of a disadvantaged social class reshapes the experience of the public sphere. At the same time, she reveals how the shared experiences of migrant women, despite their differences, merge into a powerful collective voice of resilience. As you leave these portraits behind, the eyes portrayed on it stay with you. They remind you that every “Other” carries a story worth listening to and that sometimes resistance begins simply by being seen.
