- Sebastian Ash
- Arab Affairs Editor, Eastern Province
6 hours ago
“When I was young and often fell asleep sitting on the back seat of my parents’ car, the smell of palm groves on the outskirts of the town told me that I was regarding to reach home”…Thus recalls Ghassan Al-Khunaizi, who grew up in the city of Qatif in the Eastern Province of Saudi Arabia.
Ghassan speaks while sitting at the house of his friend, artist Hussein Al-Mohsin. As part of the kingdom’s relentless modernization drive, the building is set to be demolished, with a new highway running through the neighborhood.
Both speak positively regarding this, as they say that full compensation has been offered to those affected, and that there is a need for such projects to make life in the city easier and more convenient.
As they stand in a large room filled with paintings, lithographs and books, they say that the tangible memories they will lose will be preserved in their conscience and in their art. The palm groves that Ghassan remembers from his childhood in the 1960s have already long gone.
A 45-minute drive away, a massive museum complex houses some of their latest art productions in an exhibition that brings together Saudi artists from the east and west of the country, and addresses what the concept of place means to them.
This gigantic edifice stands on the edge of a highway on the outskirts of Al Khobar, a city on the coast of the Persian Gulf bordering Dammam and Dhahran. The design, shaped like a group of massive stones, aims to mimic the natural features of the place.
The history of the King Abdulaziz Cultural Center – known as the Ithra Center – dates back to regarding a decade ago, long before the start of the rapid cultural and social transformations witnessed in the past few years under the leadership of Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman. Saudi nationals and expats flock to the center in the evenings to enjoy exhibitions of natural history, Islam and modern art, while a musician plays an oud solo in the vast entry foyer.
Ithra’s newly appointed director, Abdullah Al-Rashed, says that the center was a pioneering vision ahead of its time in the artistic and cultural scene in Saudi Arabia, at a time when the country was just beginning to move away from the ultra-conservative interpretation of Islam, where there was a ban, whether announced or not. Unspoken, on most forms of artistic expression.
Al-Rashed says the center is designed to be ready to embrace change when it happens – for example, a state-of-the-art movie theater has been set up inside the complex at a time when showing movies in public was still a distant dream.
Now, the kingdom is full of cinemas, and there is a diversified list of entertainment activities in the main cities. But Al-Rashed says the goal of the center he runs has never been to push boundaries or provoke, but rather to help expand the area in which art and culture can thrive in Saudi Arabia.
A poem in praise of the past
Across from the center’s public galleries – behind the Children’s Museum and the interactive exhibition of traditional Ramadan songs – there is the “Places” exhibition, which is an example of this approach.
Venesha Porter, exhibition organizer and curator of the Department of Islamic and Contemporary Middle Eastern Art at the British Museum, says that she chose the title of the exhibition following hearing the song “Places” by the famous Saudi singer Mohammed Abdo. The sad rhythm of the song echoes around the hall, while a number of artists describe how they tried to find a place for themselves in a country that in the past did not care much regarding such forms of self-expression, but is now allocating huge amounts of state budget to the development of a modern culture that remains within the borders certain.
Photographer Bader Awad Al-Balawi documented his surroundings in the city of Al-Khobar – the architecture that dates back to the sixties and seventies, which has become obsolete and almost deserted in the center of the city, and the lives of the people who still live there. There is another artist known by the name of Amy Cat, this artist did something similar to the city of Jeddah.
Kat was a big business man in Saudi Arabia during the 1980s, then worked as a fashion photographer in the United States, and is now a concept artist. He lived for a few months in Al Balad – the old center of Jeddah which is now being demolished block by block.
The blue and white abstract painting mirrors the walls of Jeddah – the city called the Bride of the Red Sea. Kat says blue represents water and white is a symbol of the bride’s dress.
In the same room there is another horizontal wall consisting of ruins found in the Balad area, on which the artist Asma Bahim wrote letters in gold leaf.
Soon, works of art like this may be all that remains of what was once the commercial heart of Jeddah.
The authorities regard the area as just a collection of slums, not a collection of vibrant places still teeming with mournful memories, while Saudi artists try to find ways to preserve some of the region’s spirit in their artwork.
Children, witches and a neon-lit ice-cream cart are the protagonists of a short film by Jeddah-born director Mohammed Hammad, which describes his film as “my poem I wrote in praise of this once-miracle-laden place in our memory”.
Another dreamlike scene that might have seemed out of place in Saudi Arabia not so long ago is a huge, bold painting by another young Jeddah-born artist, Ubadah Al-Jafri. The board features a purple mythical “centaur”, characters from the Powerpuff Girls cartoon, and sand dunes with vigilant eyes.
Al-Jafri was concerned regarding displaying a painting that also revealed what was going on inside him: “It navigates between themes of masculinity and femininity and other points of my identity.” The artist – who still resides in Jeddah – draws attention to the painting’s title: “Impossible Divinities”.
Conjugate fact
Back in Qatif, there is still a small trace of the old town, where the wooden shutters of an abandoned house tremble a little when a fierce breeze blows inside the dusty building.
Nobody knows for sure what will happen to that house. Its adobe walls have been patched with concrete, a temporary measure merely to ensure that the cracks do not widen.
Qatif is an ancient settlement dating back more than 3,000 years – a pre-Islamic history that was neglected in Saudi Arabia, but is now being explored as part of efforts to reshape national identity.
The area, which is inhabited by many members of the country’s Shiite minority, has witnessed many disturbances in the past. Among those carrying out mass executions, which drew international criticism, were some residents of the region who were accused of terrorism.
The town that was at the center of mass demonstrations several years ago, Awamiya, is a short distance from here. Its old neighborhood has been demolished, authorities say the purpose is to renovate and modernize, but locals have resisted its destruction. This is the dark side of what the concept of place means in the kingdom.
Saudi Arabia’s very place on the international scene remains double-edged. As US President Joe Biden prepares for an official visit to the Queen, many outside Saudi Arabia still view the kingdom overshadowed by the murder of journalist Jamal Khashoggi, while change cannot be ignored for a new generation that seems welcome.
And journalists who cover the kingdom’s affairs find themselves between these two poles when they try to find a way to describe the country that acknowledges both of these realities.
Ten years ago, the simple desire of a Saudi girl to be allowed to ride a bike was the central theme of a feature-length film titled “Wadjda” by Saudi director Haifaa Al-Mansour, which has won worldwide attention and praise as an innovative expression of identity and place in the kingdom.
Today, on the promenade of Tarut Island in the Gulf, a young girl in a black headscarf sits on her bike, anticipating what the future will bring.