Syrian icon restoration preserves identity amid conflict, as artist Lia Snayej revives damaged heritage through meticulous, history-rich work.
Newsroom (04/05/2026 Gaudium Press) In the Syrian consciousness, April extends far beyond the observance of World Heritage Day on the 18th. It unfolds as a season of cultural and spiritual resonance, interweaving the ancient roots of Akitu with the solemnity of Easter, the Feast of St. George, the remembrance of the 1915 massacres, and National Independence Day. Within this dense tapestry of memory, acts of preservation take on heightened significance.
Among these acts, the restoration of Syrian icons emerges as a quiet yet powerful form of resistance. It is a process that repairs the fractures of time and restores sacred figures to their historical radiance. In doing so, it affirms that safeguarding heritage is not a cultural luxury, but a necessity tied to identity and survival.
Visual artist and restorer Lia Snayej embodies this mission. In an interview with ACI MENA she described the moment that led her into the field: encountering icons that had been burned, pierced by gunfire, or obscured beneath layers of black residue during an exhibition. The experience, she said, was shocking and transformative, prompting her to pursue restoration academically, culminating in a master’s degree in Russia.
For Snayej, restoration is an interdisciplinary practice that blends history, chemistry, and art. “Protecting an icon is, in essence, protecting history,” she explained. Central to this work is documentation, which she described as the most critical stage. Every detail of an icon’s condition and treatment is recorded in a dedicated file that remains with the piece—an “identity card” preserving its story alongside its material form.
The restoration process itself is both methodical and delicate. It begins with studying the icon’s historical and artistic context, followed by a tailored restoration plan. Not all icons require full restoration; some need only conservation to halt deterioration. Snayej likens the process to medical treatment, where each case demands its own diagnosis.
Key stages include stabilizing the paint layer using materials such as Japanese paper, then carefully cleaning and sterilizing the surface. This phase is particularly sensitive, as any misstep can result in permanent color loss. The process concludes with retouching and the application of a protective layer.
Yet the challenges extend beyond technical complexity. Snayej pointed to everyday practices that contribute to damage, such as placing candles directly beneath icons or cleaning them with inappropriate materials. More broadly, she warned of systemic neglect. Many historical icons, she noted, are sold outside Syria at low prices, while original pieces are increasingly absent from homes, replaced by printed reproductions.
She also criticized the lack of attention in some churches. Recalling an incident in Lebanon, she described discovering two historic icons stored in poor conditions inside a wet warehouse before undertaking their restoration.
Despite these obstacles—including the high cost and limited availability of restoration materials—Snayej remains committed. Her dedication often leads her to work without compensation to save threatened artworks.
Her recent participation in an exhibition organized by the Greek Orthodox Church in Damascus highlighted both the fragility and enduring appeal of this heritage. She presented two restored works: a Russian icon of St. Nicholas and a four-part depiction of the Virgin Mary centered on the crucified Christ. What struck her most, however, was not the display itself, but the public response. Visitors showed intense interest, asking detailed questions about icon history and restoration techniques—evidence, she said, of a genuine desire to reconnect with this cultural legacy.
Through her work, Snayej has come to see restoration as more than a profession. It is a personal commitment shaped by respect for artistic integrity and rigorous research. In a time marked by loss and remembrance, each restored icon becomes a testament to endurance—an assertion that history, though scarred, can still be preserved by careful and determined hands.
- Raju Hasmukh with files from ACI Prensa
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