RIYADH:Selected artists from the ninth cycle of Misk Art Institute’s residency program in discuss their work.
Sarah Aljohani
‘When Mud Whispers’
Sarah Aljohani's 'When Mud Whispers.' (Supplied)
A native of the Saudi coastal city of Yanbu Al-Nakhil, Aljohani has extensive experience of restoring and building traditional mud-brick houses, and she continued that practice during her residency, researching various schools of thought about restoring buildings, from remaining entirely faithful to the original to starting from scratch and modernizing, to a middle ground that uses both traditional and modern techniques. The latter is what Aljohani favors.
“I found this connection between family and these schools of thought in restoration — and a saying we always hear in Saudi culture: that the father is the roof of the house.” The saying alludes, she suggests, to the notion that just as a ceiling protects occupants from the elements, a father protects his family. “But that element was missing for me within my home. I had to go back, to research and understand what the concept of ceilings are in mud-brick houses in order to understand what a father is for a family,” she says. “I asked myself ‘How do I build this missing element in my ceiling? Do I build it in a traditional way like they did before?’ But I’m not a man. So I’m not able to build — in this traditional way — that missing element (of the father).”
Aljohani’s installation is a representation of the interior of a mud-brick house, but one filled with mirrors and with frames — some empty, some holding pictures or Qur’anic verses, all coated in the same coloring as the mud walls — sourced from Riyadh’s Haraj Bin Qasim market. It is her way of encouraging women to take on leadership roles in their own style.
Bushra Aljumah
‘The Sound of Growing Grass Awakened Me’
Bushra Aljumah's 'The Sound of Growing Grass Awakened Me.' (Supplied)
The Saudi artist’s mixed-media installation is based around childhood memories of the sunlight striking iron window guards with floral designs, creating an image on the floor. It centers on Najdi architecture — specifically windows and doors.
“What I found when I began my research is that a lot of it was influenced by India and Spain, but I was sure that there must have been something authentic and native to the people of Najd. So I decided to look into local farmland and the types of flowers that grow exclusively in the Najd area,” she says. Those flowers include Al-Athel, Al-Arfaj, and Calligonum. “I wanted to study the sanctity of agriculture, and how a flower is transformed from a living thing and passed down quietly throughout generations, becoming something fixed within our intangible heritage and a symbol of Najdi architecture,” she says. “This project takes a contemplative look at how things transform, how symbols are created in Najd.” At the center of the work is a metal lantern, adorned with floral designs. As the lantern spins, it reflects the design on the walls, marking the passage of time.
Gadeer Hamed
‘Endless Reflections, A Journey Through Sketchbooks’
(AN Photo/Abdulrahman bin Shulhub)
In her installation, the Saudi artist invites audiences into her diaries. At the center of the work are 30 sketchbooks, suspended by transparent nylon string, each telling a story from her family history, including her mother’s memory of her childhood in Jeddah’s Albalad, or her father’s memories of wells that were found in his village, Mastorah, into which people used to whisper their secrets.
The floating sketchbooks are reflected in a large mirror below, symbolizing the illusion of infinity in stories and the continuity of memories. “I used mediums including watercolor and threads because I wanted the materials to be soft, just like the recollection of old memories,” says Hamed. “Thread also represents connection and was also used by my grandmother to sew.”
Marija Dava
‘Garden of Forgotten Songs’
Marija Dava and her installation 'Garden of Forgotten Songs.' (AN Photo/ Abdulrahman bin Shulhub)
“I’ve been looking (into) how language is connected to the land, and how the land becomes an archive of memory, and how it becomes something tangible, and almost medicinal,” says the Lithuanian multidisciplinary artist. Her research explored ancient ritualistic practices including Ruqyah — the recitation of Qur’anic verses for healing and protection.
Her resulting installation involved several elements, one of which was participatory — asking visitors to imagine that their language was about to disappear, and to write down a single word they would want to remember. Those words were written on calligraphy paper with ink made from saffron. “The wall becomes an archive of collective memory,” Dava says. The texts were also washed in small ceramic bowls and the water used to irrigate soil.
“It’s about interconnectedness,” the artist says. “It’s like a full circle — a connection back to the land. That’s something that I really want to highlight in my work, because I see this as a global issue: how we are disconnected from the environment, from nature, from ourselves as well. Yes, technological advancements are great, but they’re also affecting our communication.”
The studio also featured a wall of objects collected on Dava’s travels in Saudi, as well as a photo series based on the concept of breath. Working from the idea that God breathes life into every soul, the artist inhaled smoke and spoke, capturing the shape it made in an effort to create a visual representation of breath. The images were then silk-screen printed. She also created a sculpture based on the smoke shapes.
Ayça Ceylan
‘Sandland Oracle: Codes of the Ancient Future’
Ayca Ceylan’s ‘The Sandland Oracle, Codes of the Ancient Future.’ (Supplied)
“My idea occurred to me in a dream,” the Turkish performance artist and environmental writer tells Arab News. In that dream, which occurred earlier this year, she was in the middle of the desert writing a poem in the sand. Part of the poem read: “I am the daughter of the crescent dunes/ Voice of seashells/ Vessel of codes.” Not long after, she saw Misk’s open call for the residency. “I saw the Al-Dahna Desert, which looks like a crescent, and many sand dunes inside that. Ayca, my name, means ‘crescent,’ so the first line appeared in my mind,” she explains.
During her residency Ceylan created a multi-layered installation in which she reimagines the desert as a living archive. The center of the experience is an AI- and animation software-generated video installation showcasing an abstract depiction of the desert infused with the Arabic letter ‘noon.’ The walls of the room are decorated with sand and 3D-printed seashells modeled after shells found in AlUla.
“I focused on the wisdom of sands and how ecology, technology, and mythology create collective feeling and a sustainable future,” Ceylan says.
James Wagstaff
‘What Will It Cost You If You Don’t Forgive’
James Wagstaff's 'What Will It Cost You If You Don't Forgive' (Supplied)
The Muscat-based British artist wanted to focus on the topic of forgiveness in his residency. It’s a theme he’s been contemplating for the past 15 years, both personally and on a community level. “I wanted to explore that in a deeper way during this residency, through different mediums, particularly through everyday objects that we can all relate to, and maybe looking for a shared language,” he says. “So when (people from) different backgrounds and cultures, see the pieces, it will promote dialogue around the topic.”
The installation features a video of Wagstaff throwing sand at a large fan. The particles disperse in the wind as they fly back at the artist — a symbol of the impact that holding onto anger has.
“Every single time, (the anger we throw out) blows back and hits us. It’s only damaging and hurting ourselves,” says Wagstaff. The work also includes a sphere with knives welded onto it to show the damage that “unforgiveness” can cause.
‘S’
'Sidr.' (Supplied)
The French-Kurdish artist researched how different plants survive in various climates and landscapes, particularly in the valleys of Riyadh. She focused on the native sidr tree and the acacia, which is imported. She combined this with her interest in ceramics.
“I created some tiles inspired by farms. I did some research on ceramics, because clay is the first medium we can find in the landscape. I focused the research on glazing with ashes and natural pigments,” Kocabey says.
Her installation features a charcoal drawing of a valley she visited during the residency, as well as plants that she researched. On another wall hangs a series of her ceramic pieces with different glaze formulations, displaying the diversity of life around us.
