In 'Barzakh', an Arabic word that alludes to a state of in-between, a neither here not there, or even purgatory, the artist depicts unfinished architectural structures that are suspended amidst the clouds or surrounded by an alien land; an homage to a dream that is drifting farther and farther, not just out of his reach, but out of the reach of an entire generation and class of people. While appearing as a fanciful gesture, the work can also be seen as a stark depiction of mankind's capacity for greed, as the artist suggests that if it were possible to own the sky, and to build walls declaring that ownership, mankind would.
Furthermore, by removing these structures from their usual context and placing them in the heavens, the artist is using the unlikelihood of the image to remind us that despite all our earthly wealth and possessions, these things will not accompany us into the hereafter, thus putting into perspective the absurdity of fighting over grains of sand in a land of abundance and where land is abundant.
In 'Barzakh', an Arabic word that alludes to a state of in-between, a neither here not there, or even purgatory, the artist depicts unfinished architectural structures that are suspended amidst the clouds or surrounded by an alien land; an homage to a dream that is drifting farther and farther, not just out of his reach, but out of the reach of an entire generation and class of people. While appearing as a fanciful gesture, the work can also be seen as a stark depiction of mankind's capacity for greed, as the artist suggests that if it were possible to own the sky, and to build walls declaring that ownership, mankind would.
Furthermore, by removing these structures from their usual context and placing them in the heavens, the artist is using the unlikelihood of the image to remind us that despite all our earthly wealth and possessions, these things will not accompany us into the hereafter, thus putting into perspective the absurdity of fighting over grains of sand in a land of abundance and where land is abundant.
In 'Barzakh', an Arabic word that alludes to a state of in-between, a neither here not there, or even purgatory, the artist depicts unfinished architectural structures that are suspended amidst the clouds or surrounded by an alien land; an homage to a dream that is drifting farther and farther, not just out of his reach, but out of the reach of an entire generation and class of people. While appearing as a fanciful gesture, the work can also be seen as a stark depiction of mankind's capacity for greed, as the artist suggests that if it were possible to own the sky, and to build walls declaring that ownership, mankind would.
Furthermore, by removing these structures from their usual context and placing them in the heavens, the artist is using the unlikelihood of the image to remind us that despite all our earthly wealth and possessions, these things will not accompany us into the hereafter, thus putting into perspective the absurdity of fighting over grains of sand in a land of abundance and where land is abundant.
In 'Barzakh', an Arabic word that alludes to a state of in-between, a neither here not there, or even purgatory, the artist depicts unfinished architectural structures that are suspended amidst the clouds or surrounded by an alien land; an homage to a dream that is drifting farther and farther, not just out of his reach, but out of the reach of an entire generation and class of people. While appearing as a fanciful gesture, the work can also be seen as a stark depiction of mankind's capacity for greed, as the artist suggests that if it were possible to own the sky, and to build walls declaring that ownership, mankind would.
Furthermore, by removing these structures from their usual context and placing them in the heavens, the artist is using the unlikelihood of the image to remind us that despite all our earthly wealth and possessions, these things will not accompany us into the hereafter, thus putting into perspective the absurdity of fighting over grains of sand in a land of abundance and where land is abundant.
In 'Barzakh', an Arabic word that alludes to a state of in-between, a neither here not there, or even purgatory, the artist depicts unfinished architectural structures that are suspended amidst the clouds or surrounded by an alien land; an homage to a dream that is drifting farther and farther, not just out of his reach, but out of the reach of an entire generation and class of people. While appearing as a fanciful gesture, the work can also be seen as a stark depiction of mankind's capacity for greed, as the artist suggests that if it were possible to own the sky, and to build walls declaring that ownership, mankind would.
Furthermore, by removing these structures from their usual context and placing them in the heavens, the artist is using the unlikelihood of the image to remind us that despite all our earthly wealth and possessions, these things will not accompany us into the hereafter, thus putting into perspective the absurdity of fighting over grains of sand in a land of abundance and where land is abundant.
Saudi artist Sami Al-Turki presents for the first time, works from his latest photographic series Barzakh', inspired by the artist's quest to find a home for himself in his own country. After having lived and studied abroad for a number of years, the artist made the decision to return and settle in his home country of Saudi Arabia, a desert country that mainly consists of nothing but empty land.
During the main move from nomadic living to urbanisation during the 70's, an entire generation of people built their homes on empty land. This tradition of building your dream home continues to this day and the cities are littered with house upon house of every different style of architecture imaginable, there are houses that look like the White House, others that look like a palace from the Arabian Nights, and even one that looks like a space ship, all testament to a land where your home constitutes your ultimate goal, and the realisation of your fantasy. With very little public life or outdoor activity, the majority of your life will be spent within those walls. Your home is your castle, of which you are king, and the ultimate shelter and protection that you can provide your family.
Hoping to follow in his father's footsteps, the artist returned hoping to purchase a plot of land in order to build just such a dream house, but found that many things had changed since his father's time. While land remains a plentiful commodity, it has become an almost entirely inaccessible one. Anywhere else in the world, land is acquired for the purposes of development. However, in Saudi Arabia, land is being traded as a commodity in itself; people only buy land in order to sell it again for a significant profit. The result is sky-rocketing prices and a substantial amount of prime empty and unused land that only the very rich can afford, as well as a rising housing crisis.
In 'Barzakh', an Arabic word that alludes to a state of in-between, a neither here not there, or even purgatory, the artist depicts unfinished architectural structures that are suspended amidst the clouds or surrounded by an alien land; an homage to a dream that is drifting farther and farther, not just out of his reach, but out of the reach of an entire generation and class of people. While appearing as a fanciful gesture, the work can also be seen as a stark depiction of mankind's capacity for greed, as the artist suggests that if it were possible to own the sky, and to build walls declaring that ownership, mankind would.
Furthermore, by removing these structures from their usual context and placing them in the heavens, the artist is using the unlikelihood of the image to remind us that despite all our earthly wealth and possessions, these things will not accompany us into the hereafter, thus putting into perspective the absurdity of fighting over grains of sand in a land of abundance and where land is abundant.
Saudi artist Sami Al-Turki presents for the first time, works from his latest photographic series Barzakh', inspired by the artist's quest to find a home for himself in his own country. After having lived and studied abroad for a number of years, the artist made the decision to return and settle in his home country of Saudi Arabia, a desert country that mainly consists of nothing but empty land.
During the main move from nomadic living to urbanisation during the 70's, an entire generation of people built their homes on empty land. This tradition of building your dream home continues to this day and the cities are littered with house upon house of every different style of architecture imaginable, there are houses that look like the White House, others that look like a palace from the Arabian Nights, and even one that looks like a space ship, all testament to a land where your home constitutes your ultimate goal, and the realisation of your fantasy. With very little public life or outdoor activity, the majority of your life will be spent within those walls. Your home is your castle, of which you are king, and the ultimate shelter and protection that you can provide your family.
Hoping to follow in his father's footsteps, the artist returned hoping to purchase a plot of land in order to build just such a dream house, but found that many things had changed since his father's time. While land remains a plentiful commodity, it has become an almost entirely inaccessible one. Anywhere else in the world, land is acquired for the purposes of development. However, in Saudi Arabia, land is being traded as a commodity in itself; people only buy land in order to sell it again for a significant profit. The result is sky-rocketing prices and a substantial amount of prime empty and unused land that only the very rich can afford, as well as a rising housing crisis.
In 'Barzakh', an Arabic word that alludes to a state of in-between, a neither here not there, or even purgatory, the artist depicts unfinished architectural structures that are suspended amidst the clouds or surrounded by an alien land; an homage to a dream that is drifting farther and farther, not just out of his reach, but out of the reach of an entire generation and class of people. While appearing as a fanciful gesture, the work can also be seen as a stark depiction of mankind's capacity for greed, as the artist suggests that if it were possible to own the sky, and to build walls declaring that ownership, mankind would.
Furthermore, by removing these structures from their usual context and placing them in the heavens, the artist is using the unlikelihood of the image to remind us that despite all our earthly wealth and possessions, these things will not accompany us into the hereafter, thus putting into perspective the absurdity of fighting over grains of sand in a land of abundance and where land is abundant.
Saudi artist Sami Al-Turki presents for the first time, works from his latest photographic series Barzakh', inspired by the artist's quest to find a home for himself in his own country. After having lived and studied abroad for a number of years, the artist made the decision to return and settle in his home country of Saudi Arabia, a desert country that mainly consists of nothing but empty land.
During the main move from nomadic living to urbanisation during the 70's, an entire generation of people built their homes on empty land. This tradition of building your dream home continues to this day and the cities are littered with house upon house of every different style of architecture imaginable, there are houses that look like the White House, others that look like a palace from the Arabian Nights, and even one that looks like a space ship, all testament to a land where your home constitutes your ultimate goal, and the realisation of your fantasy. With very little public life or outdoor activity, the majority of your life will be spent within those walls. Your home is your castle, of which you are king, and the ultimate shelter and protection that you can provide your family.
Hoping to follow in his father's footsteps, the artist returned hoping to purchase a plot of land in order to build just such a dream house, but found that many things had changed since his father's time. While land remains a plentiful commodity, it has become an almost entirely inaccessible one. Anywhere else in the world, land is acquired for the purposes of development. However, in Saudi Arabia, land is being traded as a commodity in itself; people only buy land in order to sell it again for a significant profit. The result is sky-rocketing prices and a substantial amount of prime empty and unused land that only the very rich can afford, as well as a rising housing crisis.
In 'Barzakh', an Arabic word that alludes to a state of in-between, a neither here not there, or even purgatory, the artist depicts unfinished architectural structures that are suspended amidst the clouds or surrounded by an alien land; an homage to a dream that is drifting farther and farther, not just out of his reach, but out of the reach of an entire generation and class of people. While appearing as a fanciful gesture, the work can also be seen as a stark depiction of mankind's capacity for greed, as the artist suggests that if it were possible to own the sky, and to build walls declaring that ownership, mankind would.
Furthermore, by removing these structures from their usual context and placing them in the heavens, the artist is using the unlikelihood of the image to remind us that despite all our earthly wealth and possessions, these things will not accompany us into the hereafter, thus putting into perspective the absurdity of fighting over grains of sand in a land of abundance and where land is abundant.
Saudi artist Sami Al-Turki presents for the first time, works from his latest photographic series Barzakh', inspired by the artist's quest to find a home for himself in his own country. After having lived and studied abroad for a number of years, the artist made the decision to return and settle in his home country of Saudi Arabia, a desert country that mainly consists of nothing but empty land.
During the main move from nomadic living to urbanisation during the 70's, an entire generation of people built their homes on empty land. This tradition of building your dream home continues to this day and the cities are littered with house upon house of every different style of architecture imaginable, there are houses that look like the White House, others that look like a palace from the Arabian Nights, and even one that looks like a space ship, all testament to a land where your home constitutes your ultimate goal, and the realisation of your fantasy. With very little public life or outdoor activity, the majority of your life will be spent within those walls. Your home is your castle, of which you are king, and the ultimate shelter and protection that you can provide your family.
Hoping to follow in his father's footsteps, the artist returned hoping to purchase a plot of land in order to build just such a dream house, but found that many things had changed since his father's time. While land remains a plentiful commodity, it has become an almost entirely inaccessible one. Anywhere else in the world, land is acquired for the purposes of development. However, in Saudi Arabia, land is being traded as a commodity in itself; people only buy land in order to sell it again for a significant profit. The result is sky-rocketing prices and a substantial amount of prime empty and unused land that only the very rich can afford, as well as a rising housing crisis.
In 'Barzakh', an Arabic word that alludes to a state of in-between, a neither here not there, or even purgatory, the artist depicts unfinished architectural structures that are suspended amidst the clouds or surrounded by an alien land; an homage to a dream that is drifting farther and farther, not just out of his reach, but out of the reach of an entire generation and class of people. While appearing as a fanciful gesture, the work can also be seen as a stark depiction of mankind's capacity for greed, as the artist suggests that if it were possible to own the sky, and to build walls declaring that ownership, mankind would.
Furthermore, by removing these structures from their usual context and placing them in the heavens, the artist is using the unlikelihood of the image to remind us that despite all our earthly wealth and possessions, these things will not accompany us into the hereafter, thus putting into perspective the absurdity of fighting over grains of sand in a land of abundance and where land is abundant.
The series is inspired by the artist's quest to find a home for himself in his own country.
After having lived and studied abroad for a number of years, the artist made the decision to return and settle in his home country of Saudi Arabia, a desert country that mainly consists of nothing but empty land.
During the main move from nomadic living to urbanisation during the 70's, an entire generation of people built their homes on empty lands. This tradition of building your dream home continues to this day and the cities are littered with houses from every style of architecture imaginable, all testament to a land where your home constitutes your ultimate goal, and the realisation of your fantasy. With very little public life or outdoor activity, the majority of your life will be spent within those walls. Your home is your castle, of which you are king, and the ultimate shelter and protection that you can provide your family.
Hoping to follow in his father's footsteps, the artist returned home hoping to purchase a plot of land in order to build the dream house, but found that many things had changed since his father's time. While land remains plentiful, it has become almost entirely inaccessible. Anywhere else in the world, land is acquired for the purposes of development. However, in Saudi Arabia, land is being traded as a commodity in itself; people only buy land in order to sell it again for a significant profit. The result is sky-rocketing prices and a substantial amount of prime, empty and unused land that only the wealthy can afford.
In 'Barzakh', an Arabic word that alludes a state of in-between, a neither here not there, the artist depicts unfinished architectural structures that are suspended amidst clouds or surrounded by an alien land; an homage to a dream that is drifting farther and farther, not just out of his reach, but out of an entire generations’. While appearing as a fanciful gesture, the work is also a stark depiction of mankind's capacity for greed, as the artist suggests… If it were possible to own the sky and build walls declaring that ownership, mankind would.
Be removing these structures from their usual context and placing them in the heavens, the artist is using the unlikelihood of the image to remind us that all our earthly wealth and possessions, are ultimately left behind as we pass away, thus putting into perspective the absurdity of fighting over grains of sand in a land of abundance and where land is abundant.
When seeing these lasting unfinished constructions, one cannot help but think that there is a monetary problem within the city, a recession of sorts, a problem in the form of a disobedient nature, corruption and dishonesties that question morals. The city must be going through or has been for some time, a kind of collapse, in order to build such buildings and leave them either incomplete or semi abandoned for a prolonged periods.
So how do structures like these, stand and until when? What must be the financials of the peoples involved to allow this to happen on a recurring basis? When will reestablish a rational reasonable system that would allow all these concerns to operate in a better form? Yet it is difficult to raise such questions without consequences, which could endorse self-inflecting wounds per say.
Saudi artist Sami Al-Turki presents for the first time, works from his latest photographic series Barzakh', inspired by the artist's quest to find a home for himself in his own country.
After having lived and studied abroad for a number of years, the artist made the decision to return and settle in his home country of Saudi Arabia, a desert country that mainly consists of nothing but empty land.
During the main move from nomadic living to urbanisation during the 70's, an entire generation of people built their homes on empty land. This tradition of building your dream home continues to this day and the cities are littered with house upon house of every different style of architecture imaginable, there are houses that look like the White House, others that look like a palace from the Arabian Nights, and even one that looks like a space ship, all testament to a land where your home constitutes your ultimate goal, and the realisation of your fantasy. With very little public life or outdoor activity, the majority of your life will be spent within those walls. Your home is your castle, of which you are king, and the ultimate shelter and protection that you can provide your family.
Hoping to follow in his father's footsteps, the artist returned hoping to purchase a plot of land in order to build just such a dream house, but found that many things had changed since his father's time. While land remains a plentiful commodity, it has become an almost entirely inaccessible one. Anywhere else in the world, land is acquired for the purposes of development. However, in Saudi Arabia, land is being traded as a commodity in itself; people only buy land in order to sell it again for a significant profit. The result is sky-rocketing prices and a substantial amount of prime empty and unused land that only the very rich can afford, as well as a rising housing crisis.
Sami Al Turki’s eclectic and varied style is a reflection of both his diverse cultural upbringing and the confused occidental vs. oriental atmosphere of Dubai. His art is fuelled by what happens around him. He wants to comment on it and find the most powerful way to manifest both his environment and its subjects, and the deeper, more conceptual implications of all that his lens captures.
The Washaeg series speaks of an empty world with an apocalyptic vision for global culture. His lens captures the void, which was once built on with majestic structures. What is left are fortified walls encircling nothingness.
Sami Al Turki’s eclectic and varied style is a reflection of both his diverse cultural upbringing and the confused occidental vs. oriental atmosphere of Dubai. His art is fuelled by what happens around him. He wants to comment on it and find the most powerful way to manifest both his environment and its subjects, and the deeper, more conceptual implications of all that his lens captures.
The Washaeg series speaks of an empty world with an apocalyptic vision for global culture. His lens captures the void, which was once built on with majestic structures. What is left are fortified walls encircling nothingness.
Sami Al Turki’s eclectic and varied style is a reflection of both his diverse cultural upbringing and the confused occidental vs. oriental atmosphere of Dubai. His art is fuelled by what happens around him. He wants to comment on it and find the most powerful way to manifest both his environment and its subjects, and the deeper, more conceptual implications of all that his lens captures.
The Washaeg series speaks of an empty world with an apocalyptic vision for global culture. His lens captures the void, which was once built on with majestic structures. What is left are fortified walls encircling nothingness.
Sami Al Turki’s eclectic and varied style is a reflection of both his diverse cultural upbringing and the confused occidental vs. oriental atmosphere of Dubai. His art is fuelled by what happens around him. He wants to comment on it and find the most powerful way to manifest both his environment and its subjects, and the deeper, more conceptual implications of all that his lens captures.
The Washaeg series speaks of an empty world with an apocalyptic vision for global culture. His lens captures the void, which was once built on with majestic structures. What is left are fortified walls encircling nothingness.
This series developed out of Al Turki’s reflection of Dubai. He presents images of tractors and cranes as though they have been stopped in their tracks, immobile. He describes such machines as “the soldiers that built this city (Dubai).” It is through their excavating, moving and lifting that such a place has emerged as a global city. To see these machines, motionless, is as though he stops time temporarily. He captures these ‘soldiers’ parked up still, at night, creating a sense of peaceful harmony in an otherwise bustling urban jungle.
This series developed out of Al Turki’s reflection of Dubai. He presents images of tractors and cranes as though they have been stopped in their tracks, immobile. He describes such machines as “the soldiers that built this city (Dubai).” It is through their excavating, moving and lifting that such a place has emerged as a global city. To see these machines, motionless, is as though he stops time temporarily. He captures these ‘soldiers’ parked up still, at night, creating a sense of peaceful harmony in an otherwise bustling urban jungle.
This series developed out of Al Turki’s reflection of Dubai. He presents images of tractors and cranes as though they have been stopped in their tracks, immobile. He describes such machines as “the soldiers that built this city (Dubai).” It is through their excavating, moving and lifting that such a place has emerged as a global city. To see these machines, motionless, is as though he stops time temporarily. He captures these ‘soldiers’ parked up still, at night, creating a sense of peaceful harmony in an otherwise bustling urban jungle.
This series developed out of Al Turki’s reflection of Dubai. He presents images of tractors and cranes as though they have been stopped in their tracks, immobile. He describes such machines as “the soldiers that built this city (Dubai).” It is through their excavating, moving and lifting that such a place has emerged as a global city. To see these machines, motionless, is as though he stops time temporarily. He captures these ‘soldiers’ parked up still, at night, creating a sense of peaceful harmony in an otherwise bustling urban jungle.
This series developed out of Al Turki’s reflection of Dubai. He presents images of tractors and cranes as though they have been stopped in their tracks, immobile. He describes such machines as “the soldiers that built this city (Dubai).” It is through their excavating, moving and lifting that such a place has emerged as a global city. To see these machines, motionless, is as though he stops time temporarily. He captures these ‘soldiers’ parked up still, at night, creating a sense of peaceful harmony in an otherwise bustling urban jungle.
This series developed out of Al Turki’s reflection of Dubai. He presents images of tractors and cranes as though they have been stopped in their tracks, immobile. He describes such machines as “the soldiers that built this city (Dubai).” It is through their excavating, moving and lifting that such a place has emerged as a global city. To see these machines, motionless, is as though he stops time temporarily. He captures these ‘soldiers’ parked up still, at night, creating a sense of peaceful harmony in an otherwise bustling urban jungle.
This series developed out of Al Turki’s reflection of Dubai. He presents images of tractors and cranes as though they have been stopped in their tracks, immobile. He describes such machines as “the soldiers that built this city (Dubai).” It is through their excavating, moving and lifting that such a place has emerged as a global city. To see these machines, motionless, is as though he stops time temporarily. He captures these ‘soldiers’ parked up still, at night, creating a sense of peaceful harmony in an otherwise bustling urban jungle.
This series developed out of Al Turki’s reflection of Dubai. He presents images of tractors and cranes as though they have been stopped in their tracks, immobile. He describes such machines as “the soldiers that built this city (Dubai).” It is through their excavating, moving and lifting that such a place has emerged as a global city. To see these machines, motionless, is as though he stops time temporarily. He captures these ‘soldiers’ parked up still, at night, creating a sense of peaceful harmony in an otherwise bustling urban jungle.
This series developed out of Al Turki’s reflection of Dubai. He presents images of tractors and cranes as though they have been stopped in their tracks, immobile. He describes such machines as “the soldiers that built this city (Dubai).” It is through their excavating, moving and lifting that such a place has emerged as a global city. To see these machines, motionless, is as though he stops time temporarily. He captures these ‘soldiers’ parked up still, at night, creating a sense of peaceful harmony in an otherwise bustling urban jungle.
This series developed out of Al Turki’s reflection of Dubai. He presents images of tractors and cranes as though they have been stopped in their tracks, immobile. He describes such machines as “the soldiers that built this city (Dubai).” It is through their excavating, moving and lifting that such a place has emerged as a global city. To see these machines, motionless, is as though he stops time temporarily. He captures these ‘soldiers’ parked up still, at night, creating a sense of peaceful harmony in an otherwise bustling urban jungle.
Atmospheric settings, indulging surroundings, living atonement.
The topic to be discussed is that of a person, who is called Mr. Zany. He is about to embark on a significant journey, as he wishes it to be retaliation. However, he must go through a process of development that is bleak and may lead to his demise, or he will hopelessly awaken into the third and a half dimension, between space and time, where elevation is sublime, a lady listens, multitudes are supreme and a road that melts.
Telling his story through music, visuals and performance, to initiate a new concept of enjoying a show, one that would inform the audience and interact with them, showcasing the systems that are right in front of them, to bring awareness, to expose, to experience. Most seem to ignore these elements continuously, not because they don’t care but rather because they are confused or mislead and are not used to the idea of thinking clearly. Transformed in an intimate space, idealizing a voyeuristic aspect to the project is necessary so as the viewer would see the elements that make up the installation and the logic that flows within, and coordinating the music so that it links with the visuals, but not to cross the T in every case. The show
is to be divided into three sections that take up no longer than ten minutes each, as well as two free expression sections in between. The story has several scenes, some of which are to take
place in a desert, a forest, a room and in water, with the same props being used, only minor differences that would give the effect of time elapsing and showcasing the progression of the story. There would be a theatrical-performance act as well, that aids in the enhancement.
The musicians play inside boxes. The position of the windows isolates the performers from seeing one another, the out side of the box is used to play projections.
Sami Al Turki’s eclectic and varied style is a reflection of both his diverse cultural upbringing and the confused occidental vs. oriental atmosphere of Dubai. His art is fuelled by what happens around him. He wants to comment on it and find the most powerful way to manifest both his environment and its subjects, and the deeper, more conceptual implications of all that his lens captures.
The Washaeg series speaks of an empty world with an apocalyptic vision for global culture. His lens captures the void, which was once built on with majestic structures. What is left are fortified walls encircling nothingness
Sami Al Turki’s eclectic and varied style is a reflection of both his diverse cultural upbringing and the confused occidental vs. oriental atmosphere of Dubai. His art is fuelled by what happens around him. He wants to comment on it and find the most powerful way to manifest both his environment and its subjects, and the deeper, more conceptual implications of all that his lens captures.
The Washaeg series speaks of an empty world with an apocalyptic vision for global culture. His lens captures the void, which was once built on with majestic structures. What is left are fortified walls encircling nothingness
Sami Al Turki’s eclectic and varied style is a reflection of both his diverse cultural upbringing and the confused occidental vs. oriental atmosphere of Dubai. His art is fuelled by what happens around him. He wants to comment on it and find the most powerful way to manifest both his environment and its subjects, and the deeper, more conceptual implications of all that his lens captures.
The Washaeg series speaks of an empty world with an apocalyptic vision for global culture. His lens captures the void, which was once built on with majestic structures. What is left are fortified walls encircling nothingness
Sami Al Turki’s eclectic and varied style is a reflection of both his diverse cultural upbringing and the confused occidental vs. oriental atmosphere of Dubai. His art is fuelled by what happens around him. He wants to comment on it and find the most powerful way to manifest both his environment and its subjects, and the deeper, more conceptual implications of all that his lens captures.
The Washaeg series speaks of an empty world with an apocalyptic vision for global culture. His lens captures the void, which was once built on with majestic structures. What is left are fortified walls encircling nothingness
Sami Al Turki’s eclectic and varied style is a reflection of both his diverse cultural upbringing and the confused occidental vs. oriental atmosphere of Dubai. His art is fuelled by what happens around him. He wants to comment on it and find the most powerful way to manifest both his environment and its subjects, and the deeper, more conceptual implications of all that his lens captures.
The Washaeg series speaks of an empty world with an apocalyptic vision for global culture. His lens captures the void, which was once built on with majestic structures. What is left are fortified walls encircling nothingness
Sami Al Turki’s eclectic and varied style is a reflection of both his diverse cultural upbringing and the confused occidental vs. oriental atmosphere of Dubai. His art is fuelled by what happens around him. He wants to comment on it and find the most powerful way to manifest both his environment and its subjects, and the deeper, more conceptual implications of all that his lens captures.
The Washaeg series speaks of an empty world with an apocalyptic vision for global culture. His lens captures the void, which was once built on with majestic structures. What is left are fortified walls encircling nothingness
Sami Al Turki’s eclectic and varied style is a reflection of both his diverse cultural upbringing and the confused occidental vs. oriental atmosphere of Dubai. His art is fuelled by what happens around him. He wants to comment on it and find the most powerful way to manifest both his environment and its subjects, and the deeper, more conceptual implications of all that his lens captures.
The Washaeg series speaks of an empty world with an apocalyptic vision for global culture. His lens captures the void, which was once built on with majestic structures. What is left are fortified walls encircling nothingness
Sami Al Turki’s eclectic and varied style is a reflection of both his diverse cultural upbringing and the confused occidental vs. oriental atmosphere of Dubai. His art is fuelled by what happens around him. He wants to comment on it and find the most powerful way to manifest both his environment and its subjects, and the deeper, more conceptual implications of all that his lens captures.
The Washaeg series speaks of an empty world with an apocalyptic vision for global culture. His lens captures the void, which was once built on with majestic structures. What is left are fortified walls encircling nothingness
We are born, bred and bled. Choosing unknown paths on the adventure of life, finding options midway, avoiding more damage, our consciousness hovers around; we are who we are at the core even if we try to change it momentarily. In a further dimension after time and space where the psyche finds its home, there lies the undeniable truth of existence.
“You meet your destiny on the road you take to avoid it”
C. Jung
This short film series captures a man at the back of an oversized billboard slowly beating it’s framework with an iron rod in response to fast moving drive-by impressions of the board’s messages at night. His motions are like a ritualistic dance and lead to no end as the framework keeping up the board gives not an inch. The noise and rhythm of the iron rod seem to change into a man silently playing with a twig while sitting down in a local landscape.