JEDDAH: The second edition of the Diriyah Islamic Arts Biennale begins today, showcasing more than 500 “historical objects and contemporary artworks” across five exhibition halls and outdoor spaces.  

This year’s theme is “And All That Is In Between,” a phrase the organizers say “encapsulates the vast and awe-inspiring scope of God’s creation as experienced by humankind.”  

Over the next four months, the event will, according to the website, present “a profound exploration of how faith is lived, expressed, and celebrated … inviting visitors to reflect on the divine’s wonders and humankind’s connection to it.” 

The biennale will include new commissions from more than 30 artists, both local and international. The most prominent Saudi artist on the roster is Ahmed Mater, who was the subject of a mid-career retrospective — “Chronicles” — at Christie’s in London last year. Participation in a biennale such as this fits with Mater’s philosophy. In 2020, he told Arab News: “I see exploration, sharing and learning between cultures as vital. Culture is about sharing and progress. It is not static; it is dynamic.”  

Mater’s fellow Saudi artist, the printmaker and educator Fatma Abdulhadi will also be presenting works at the biennale. Her prints, she told the Berlin Art Institute in 2021, consist of “layer upon layer of deeper meanings which are expressed through the use of color. Each layer of color is a mirror that allows you to see the others clearly and accept them for what they are.” 

Saudi contemporary interpretive dancer Bilal Allaf told Arab News in 2021 why he prefers his improvisational approach to classical dance. “I feel I can express my emotions better,” he said. “I think it’s a pure art form of storytelling — a form of non-verbal communication. As a performer it’s a very profound expression.” 

Bahraini-American artist Nasser Alzayani was the winner of Louvre Abu Dhabi’s inaugural Richard Mille Art Prize in 2021. His practice, the Louvre said at the time, “is a research-driven documentation of time and place through text and image.” Alzayani told Canvas the following year: “I see the work that I’m making as a way of adding to the resources available.” 

Makkah native Ahmad Angawi is, according to art collective Edge of Arabia, “inspired by the colorful diversity of the culture of Hejaz.” He is the son of an architect, and has “adopted the concept of … the belief in the fundamental principle of balance, as a state of mind, as well as the belief in its application in the field of design.” 

Abdelkader Benchamma, born in France to Algerian parents, creates “delicately executed and dynamic drawings of states of matter,” Edge of Arabia’s website states. “His drawings take their inspiration from visual scenarios that stem from reflections on space and its physical reality.” 

Abha native Saeed Gebaan is an industrial engineer by trade, and a co-founder of PHI Studio. “Through installations, programming and movement systems, Gebaan invites viewers to consider the intersection of science and society,” according to Riyadh Art. 

Louis Guillaume uses found materials to create his sculptures and “sees his creations as living works destined to evolve over time,” the website of Paris’ Cité International Des Artes states. 

The work of Lebanese multidisciplinary artists Joana Hadjithomas and Khalil Joreige has covered film, photography, sculpture, installations, performance lectures and texts. They have written that they “question storytelling, the fabrication of images and representations, the construction of imaginaries, and the writing of history.” 

Jeddah-based visual artist Bashaer Hawsawi works with mixed media and found objects. Her practice, according to theartists.net, is centered around “notions of cultural identity, cleansing, belonging and nostalgia.” 

Libyan artist Nour Jaouda, the Venice Biennale website states, “relishes in the slow, physical, and felt processes of fabricating hand-dyed textiles. (Their) inherent connectivity begets their association with the eternal and the divine; to the artist, textiles have no beginning or end.” 

Lebanese-French interdisciplinary artist Tamara Kalo was raised in Riyadh. “She works with photography, video and sculpture to investigate narratives that shape home, history and identity,” Riyadh Art states. 

Raya Kassisieh is a London-based artist of Palestinian heritage who says she “explores the politics of the body in a multidisciplinary practice that presents a deeply personal interrogation of form.” Her work “proposes that the body is the ultimate tool for reimagination and creation.” 

The Japanese artist Takashi Kuribayashi creates large-scale installations. The central theme of his work, he has said, is the “invisible realm” and its boundary. “The truth resides in places that are invisible. Once you are aware that there is a different world out of sight, you will be living in a different way.” 

Saudi photographer and filmmaker Hayat Osamah “seeks to challenge conventional norms and celebrate diversity,” Riyadh Art states, while Jeddah-born multidisciplinary artist Anhar Salem also works primarily in film, often using phone-shot videos “to question self-representation and image production in communities that have been marginalized as a result of migration and economic policies,” according to Cité International Des Artes. 

This year’s roster also includes Argentinian artist Gabriel Chaile; Amman-based Kuwaiti artist and curator Ala Younis; Asim Waqif, an Indian artist based in New Delhi; Taiwanese multidisciplinary artist Charwei Tsai; Lahore-based duo Ehsan ul Haq and Iqra Tanveer; Eurasian art collective Slavs and Tatars; Italian visual artist Arcangelo Sassolino; British architect and multidisciplinary artist Asif Khan; French-Iraqi artist Mehdi Moutashar; German-Iranian photographer and sculptor Timo Nasseri; Multimedia poet-musician duo Hylozic/Desires (Himali Singh Soin and David Soin Tappeser); Colombian multidisciplinary artist Nohemi Pérez; Pakistani artist Imran Qureshi, whose work is inspired by the miniature paintings of Mughal courts; Brazilian artist Lucia Koch; and the British interdisciplinary artist Osman Yousefzada. 

ALULA: Anyone walking through the valleys and mountains of AlUla will notice its unique stone formations and untouched carvings — but not many would notice the echoes of falling rocks. Lebanese artist and electroacoustic composer Tarek Atoui says some of the valleys sound like “porcelain or crystal.”  

“In Hegra, you don’t really hear it because it’s an archeological site,” he adds. “You really have to walk in valleys or in places that are wilder.”  

Atoui has made a name for himself by blurring the boundaries of sound, technology, art, and collaborative performance. His latest participation — at AlUla Arts Festival, in Bayt Al Hams (The Whispering House) — is a testament to his ability to blend the human, the natural, and the machine. On the festival’s opening night on Jan. 16, Atoui, French musician Toma Gouband, and students from AlUla staged an intriguing performance using custom-designed instruments, natural objects such as tree branches and rocks, and cutting-edge techniques.   

“I believe sound can take you to places where you really speak about the inner and not just the surface — and that’s what I love about it,” Atoui tells Arab News. “Sound is an abstract medium, so it can create sensations and emotions in us in an unexpected way, and what you choose to do with it is very personal and intimate. It’s something that allows you to speak of an identity, of an intimacy, of a fragility, that maybe image doesn’t allow you to. 

“If you want to find out about a place then, of course, you find out about its history, archeology, geology, its different social and political realities. But it’s mainly about talking to the people that inhabit it. And the best way, in my case, to have a dialog with people is through what I do. So that’s why it was very important to reach out to people in this way.” 

Bayt Al Hams, a dedicated hub for Atoui’s work, is a soundscape that will be changing almost seasonally, he explains. It showcases a selection of works that rely largely on four natural elements: water, stone, metal, and glass. 

The interactive space is scattered with contraptions that create sound, from textile squares to tablas to metal-infused ink hooked up to machinery developed by Atoui himself. 

“It’s a kind of easy way to get into a complex, deep topic,” he says. “The things that are here have a double life. Let’s say they’re animated and automated through computer software and algorithms I write, which kind of drive this space, but they are also brought to life by human beings, the students we work with, the musicians we work with,” he explains.  

Atoui was first inspired by techno music, or, as he describes it, “music that had physicality to it.” He went on to study contemporary music, and began to understand that any sound can be musical. “You can work with sound in so many ways to make music. And that was liberating for me, because I didn’t know how to compose with scores and classical instruments,” he says.  

He was interested in poetry, literature, and theater too, but when he went to France — where he is now based — for university, he fell in love with the crossover between art, mathematics, abstraction, and sound.  

His unique art, he says, came “through a lot of improvisation, like thinking how to use the computer as a music instrument, learning how to code and to program and to create software for sound, and, from there, learning how to work with electronics and build electronic instruments.”  

He was also interested in education, which began manifesting in his practice.  

“Not having a musical background myself, I wanted to encourage people from different realms to also have a say in sound, or to use new technologies to make sound and music,” he explains.  

He’s worked with Palestinian refugees in camps, with groups in the suburban areas of Cairo, and in parts of Europe, Asia, and the US.  

“It was a really mind-opening experience to travel to all these places and to perform, teach, and interact with people. Slowly, I started to slide towards the art world, because this is where I found (more) freedom. I didn’t feel I was exclusively a musician,” he says. 

Atoui is not concerned that his work may be too avant-garde to ever go mainstream. 

“That’s no problem at all,” he says. “We each have our sensibilities and tastes. To me, also, there are musical things that are not music.”