Keizer is a street artist educating the masses about the latest corruption. He fears self-censorship is yet to be undone as "people have created their own prisons." Elsewhere in Cairo, street art is burgeoning in a joyful expression of freedom. "It's the first time that I walk past things like these that express happiness and contentment", an old man explains, smiling. Karima Mansour is a choreographer whose dance expresses the complexities of a society in which there are veiled women, "but we also have women like me. I am a dancer working with the body." She now wants access to state-run theatres, something forbidden to independent artists under the old regime. Painter Khaled Hafez explains how "deja vu images" would resurface in his early post-revolution paintings: the tanks, the guns, the soldiers. Whilst for artist Hany Rashed, the very act of depicting brutality is "a beautiful thing." Before, even photographing the police was forbidden, but during the revolution new freedoms meant he was able to take photos without anyone objecting. Rami Essam is a musician who was arrested and beaten after Mubarak fell because, as he explains, the system had not yet changed. In the narrow Cairo streets he stages a pulsating concert aimed at children. "Even if they don't understand everything as long as they sing along, they will grow up alert and ask questions." And so the spirit of the revolution is passed on. "Every one of us was a diamond covered with mud" says singer Shaimaa Shaalan of her fellow artists. Their light is now being unearthed and, as Khaled Hafez warns, the stakes are high. "If all Egyptians are aware of art they will not fall into the pit of fundamentalism. "An expressive, intelligent film reflecting the vibrant, fluid Egyptian art scene.