Nujoom Alghanem is a first-generation Emirati artist, poet, and filmmaker. She has directed five short films and eight feature-length documentaries, and won over 27 regional and international awards for them. She has published eight poetry collections. Malamih – Faces, Phantoms and Expressions is her second visual arts solo exhibition. The show contains a wide range of materials including canvas, ceramics, cement, burlap, cutting boards, wooden crates, fluorescents, and animation.

You navigate many mediums and industries. How is the experience of putting on a visual art exhibition different from directing a film? What changes in these three industries of fine art, film, and publishing? What do you have to account for in each?

Malamih – Faces, Phantoms and Expressions [at Sharjah’s Maraya Art Center] is my first solo visual arts exhibition in the UAE. Before that I had a solo exhibition at the UAE National Pavilion in the 2019 Venice Biennale, titled Passage. However, the medium was video art, whereas at Malamih, you see physical artworks created by using different types of materials. It’s also worth mentioning that almost half of the faces in the piece Cathedral of Faces made an appearance in Passage but only in the background of the story.

Unlike making films, I’ve always dealt with art as a hobby. It was a practice that helped me overcome difficult times, especially when I couldn’t produce films or write. I realized that visual art was my true refuge. Without realizing it, I got so immersed by the experience and experimentation of producing more faces. Of course, the reason I began producing faces at the beginning was to enrich the visual aspects of Passage. But then when the project saw the light and had a life of its own, the faces remained in my studio and there were a lot of them already. At the time, I went through a serious health problem so I couldn’t produce films or write. The only thing that kept me in harmony with the world was painting and making art. Working constantly for years resulted in accumulating a great number of artworks, which had to end up somewhere. I was lucky to meet Dr Nina Heydemann who was immediately open to giving an exhibition a thought. The ball started rolling at the beginning of 2020. We worked on this show for a year, and it has several aspects of my practice as a writer, filmmaker, and experimenter.

In my opinion, you don’t have to keep doing the same thing to fulfill the meaning of your existence. You just need to be productive, serious about what you do, and intuitive. Art in any means is art–most importantly it should be able to evoke different experiences.

The Cathedral of Faces. Image Courtesy of Shajahan Moidin — *The Cathedral of Faces.* Image Courtesy of Shajahan Moidin

Your show begins with The Cathedral of Faces and is a completely immersive space. It reminded me of the Salon des Refusés and the Impressionists, and the installation felt like a reference to The Paris Salon, the annual exhibition of the best French art, and their renowned method of displaying art: floor to ceiling. The 1000+ artworks in The Cathedral of Faces mirror the paintings of the Impressionists in style – abstract instead of photorealistic– which the French Academy of Fine Arts rejected in the 1800s. Can you talk about your experience of making this work about your color palettes and various expressions? And the potential link to the history of The Paris Salon?

In terms of the style of displaying the artworks, the curator, Dr Nina Heydemann and I discussed from the beginning how they should be hung. We wanted them to envelop the three walls of the third floor space at Maraya Art Center in a St. Petersburg-style. The reference in mind though was neither The Paris Salon nor Salon des Refusés. Although, I would probably be more excited to associate it with Salon des Refusés because of personal stories related to my own beginnings in the early eighties. The reference example the curator had in mind instead was The Fabiola Project by Belgian-born artist Francis Alÿs, who resides in Mexico City.

The difference is that The Fabiola Project was composed of 450 artworks that Alÿs had collected in flea markets and junk shops throughout Southern America. Those artworks were amateur reproductions of profile views of Saint Fabiola, copied after a lost 1885 painting of 4th-century Roman Saint Fabiola by French artist Jean-Jacques Henner. The power of Alÿs’ project is to see one single image repeated by different unknown artists but presented by Alÿs. In comparison, Cathedral of Faces revolves around one single subject which is the human face. But each face of the over 1000 ones was created exclusively by me and I expanded them using different materials.

I used every possible color that I had bought for this project, and I was more in the mood to accentuate some details using bright colors. The expressions were the focus of all the series. I wanted to highlight the feelings, emotions, and gazes so when the viewers stand in front of them, they can feel the overwhelming presence of this unspoken communication occurring back and forth, without the need to use words.

In the Cathedral of Faces, most of the faces have red lips. Can you talk about this symbolism?

This installation emphasizes the concept of expressions of the human face. Features, including eyes and mouths, are essential to the concept of the face. Through mouths, we communicate verbally, and words that are expressed through the mouth are memorable whether they are sweet or harsh. I wanted to accentuate the mouths for that specific reason. But the audience is free to interpret it the way they see it and feel it. Additionally, we also recall people by the communication we have with them. The mouth is a vehicle for that. Sometimes people communicate things bitterly, and the red lips express those emotions.

There are many layers to this show. Can you talk about the separation between the two levels and the categorization of the subgroups such as The Library, The Burlap Bazaar and The Emojis?

When I was producing the artworks, I used to work on series because it was easier to control the sizes, materials, mediums, etc. Also, the work is composed of different ideas, even though the main subject is the face. Having these different installations broke up the exhibition into sections to give each installation a good opportunity to be displayed and seen fairly. What I really like about the exhibition structure is that it is vertical. I think verticality adds depth to any kind of artwork. I’m glad that the curator was very thoughtful, and she brought justice to each part of the exhibition by placing them the way they are.

The Burlap Bazaar. Image courtesy of Fatema Al Fardan — *The Burlap Bazaar.* Image courtesy of Fatema Al Fardan

You used many different materials to paint the faces, some of which are non-traditional, like the cutting boards in The Butcher Shop or wooden crates in Forsaken Spirits. What drew you to these materials?

I used specific objects as mediums to produce the artwork, due to their unfamiliarity as objects used in art. On the other hand, those objects have been used or still are used in every house. I didn’t want to create artworks made of only canvas and this has always been one of my concerns since I was young. I try different mediums because each brings another dimension and characteristic to the artwork. In addition, within the main concept there are other sub-concepts that explore other themes. You may notice that the sections have names of places or relate to certain environments/ businesses. The cutting boards relate to the butcher shops which are existing parts of the market and of human daily needs, but they also exist as tools in households. The act of cutting starts from cutting trees to make these tools and ends with cutting vegetables or animal flesh for feeding people. In both cases, humans are the ones performing all these actions and contributing towards overproduction, creating the constant need to buy and eat. They don’t pay attention that the wood has energy which belongs to other spirits, trees. They can recognize the places in which they go shopping but neglect other details.

Regarding the wooden crates, originally, they belonged to fruit and vegetable markets but gradually got misplaced. First, they were replaced by plastic containers. Nowadays, they are used for decorative purposes as furniture pieces or to decorate shopping windows, buffet tables, etc. I called them Forsaken Spirits because of this misplacement. By highlighting the cutting boards and wooden crates, I wanted to bring attention to the used materials and, at the same time, make a statement.

The Butcher Shop. Image courtesy of Fatema Al Fardan — *The Butcher Shop.* Image courtesy of Fatema Al Fardan

There are references in Malamih to your previous work from the 1980s, such as the cemetery performance that you were denied access to perform with the Aqwas collective. In Malamih, you managed to incorporate the cemetery in reference to both that performance in Sharjah and the Day of the Dead. What about the cemetery is it that piqued your interest in the past, and continues to do so?

The project that had been rejected almost 35 years ago got the chance to see the light but in a different context and of course, in a gallery space rather than a real cemetery in nature. Also, with major modifications. In 1985, as members of Aqwas collective, my late friend Hassan Sharif, Khalid Albudoor, and I wanted to put together a performing arts exhibition in a cemetery. We couldn’t execute that then because we failed to get permission. However, in 2018 I was visiting Montreal and as part of my location scouting, I found a beautiful cemetery. It was November 1st and I noticed that some people were coming in big groups with offerings because it coincided with the Day of the Dead. The concept itself was the first thing that brought me a profound realization. It put me on a bigger task to find out more about this day and its authentic cultural background. So, I started my research and was astounded by all the rituals people across Latin America and other places around the world have on this occasion, including in China, Philippines, Spain, and others. The most significant celebration to me was the Mexican Día de Muertos or Day of the Dead which honors deceased family members in a very vibrant traditional remembrance. I loved their joyful ritual with its extraordinary explosion of color that is warm and welcoming.

This celebration became the background narrative of my cemetery at Maraya Art Center. Instead of making calaveras though, I made faces out of clay, painted them with fluorescent colors, and created a theatrical surrounding incorporating sound, smoke, and black lights. I felt that I somehow fulfilled the old desire to create a show in a cemetery. Art allows us to be more creative beyond all measures.

The Cemetery. Image courtesy of Shajahan Moidin — *The Cemetery.* Image courtesy of Shajahan Moidin

Your work was not always favorably looked upon as an avant-garde artist; you have received criticism for your poetry and performances. To what extent do you think critique and critics have shaped the art scene in the UAE and personally affected your work and trajectory?

I don’t think the reaction to our poetry and performances then was based on a professional analytical critique. We read articles full of anger written in very insulting tones. I would rather call that an unprofessional reaction from unprofessional news reporters. Those journalists intended to stir the public against us. Fortunately, they didn’t have the power to jail us.

Until today I don’t believe that critique has shaped the art scene in the UAE. We developed our art movement in the absence of critique.

Initiatives, whether governmental, semi-governmental or individual, have contributed towards creating the art scene that we enjoy today. Having said that, I don’t mean that we needed “godfathers” to look after us. The art and writers’ associations then tried to act like godfathers but instead of being supportive, their aggression and controlling attitude forced us to develop our own skills and to become self-taught. Now, I thank those who, without realizing it, made us stronger and more independent.

Artists always need to be free and intuitive, work on their projects, and explore the world around and beyond them independently, better, with fresh eyes. By working and creating constantly, they automatically add themselves and their art to the mosaic of art forms and art scenes.

Etihad newspaper article referencing Aqwas collective. Image courtesy of Nujoom Alghanem

Historically, women have been erased from told narratives. Some husbands took credit for their wives works e.g. Walter Keane to Margaret Keane. Some women have been completely erased from mainstream narratives. Do you ever feel like the way history is being written is not fair to you?

I’m so sorry to say that these stories happen all the time, whether among the uneducated or even people that we think are more intellectual, considerate, and liberal. When something like this happens, it involves both sides; consent comes from both sides. In our culture, we say the rope of a lie is so short, meaning the truth will eventually be revealed. This applies to both the individual and to history. Lessons take a longer time to be acknowledged and learned from, but we always learn from other people, nations, countries, etc.

As for history as a form of recording events and activities, it has often tended to be written by males. But countries also used to be governed only by males, education curricula were created by males, and intelligence was labeled as a male quality! Therefore, unless the historians are objective and open- minded, we’re more likely to end up with a biased history. Personally, I think we must take part in making history and become involved in writing it. Nobody can take this from us.

You have been an active artist since the 1980s, as part of collectives, the literary scene, and the film scene at different times. How valuable is community? How have these scenes changed in the last 40 years?

In the past, our resources were limited. But we were eager to learn and explore new ways or get involved in groups and related activities. It was a natural thing to be involved in your own practice but also to try to be good at doing other things such as writing, translating, photographing, filming, and other professions. We also used to help each other, to exchange knowledge and be supportive of each other.

We created our own communities through inviting possibilities or coming up with ideas for collectives. Then there was a time that each one of us needed to focus on his or her own profession. Traveling to study abroad separated us physically but not intellectually.

By the time I came back [from graduate study abroad], things had already been progressing in almost all fields. We are so grateful in the UAE to have serious cultural and artistic strategic plans that have resulted in federal and local initiatives for supporting and encouraging art, by building educational institutions, cultural centers, museums, providing training and grants, and more. All these drives have created better dynamism and opportunities for artists. In addition, they have encouraged more tolerance towards contemporary movements. I really think that we have been blessed to have art custodians in almost every Emirate who have taken an active part in developing more projects and opportunities and have worked hard to nourish art and culture as well as take them to a higher, progressive level. The art scene today has a new spirit that is fresh but mature and strong enough to be able to encounter any challenges. And this is the dynamism that I’ve always dreamt about.

You currently have a studio within the exhibition in Maraya Art Center. When can our readers find you there?

I try to be there every Monday and Thursday. Sometimes, organizations schedule group visits and it’s always a pleasure to walk them through the exhibition.

A Conversation with Emirati Artist Nujoom Alghanem

The Visitant

Two Poems