Tini Warwar, is an underground song that has found its way into the mainstream, and took over the music scene in Saudi Arabia in 2013. Different musicians and singers started making their own rendition of the song, and it is still considered a favorite among Saudi wedding singers.

This socio-cultural product is a reflection of the effects of globalization and the struggle of hegemony that is occurring in the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia. The song is a hybrid being that is a reflection of western influences, combined with Saudi traditional beats and a countdown from 10 to 1. The lyrics throughout the song are a comparison between the past and the present. It showcases current views of Saudis, and what they perceive to be more superior or powerful. It is an example of the economical social hierarchy within the society.

The dance preformed in the video is a traditional Arabian dance called “AlKhibayti”. In the past this dance was usually danced in preparation for war and has different influences including Sufi and Hejazi. Today this dance is usually danced as a cultural performance in weddings and social events

Allah is a multimedia installation by artist Nasser Al-Salem and the second iteration derived from an earlier work by the artist. The visual manifestation of the word Allah is an abstracted representation in which its letters are stripped down to basic geometric lines and shapes. Nasser explores through a minimalist approach how form and light can imitate an approximate representation of the divine.

The artist radically eschews the conventional and traditionalist aesthetic appeal of a calligraphic form in representing Allah, and creating an immersive and experiential representation.

Allah is a multimedia installation by artist Nasser Al-Salem and the second iteration derived from an earlier work by the artist. The visual manifestation of the word Allah is an abstracted representation in which its letters are stripped down to basic geometric lines and shapes. Nasser explores through a minimalist approach how form and light can imitate an approximate representation of the divine.

The artist radically eschews the conventional and traditionalist aesthetic appeal of a calligraphic form in representing Allah, and creating an immersive and experiential representation.

Allah is a multimedia installation by artist Nasser Al-Salem and the second iteration derived from an earlier work by the artist. The visual manifestation of the word Allah is an abstracted representation in which its letters are stripped down to basic geometric lines and shapes. Nasser explores through a minimalist approach how form and light can imitate an approximate representation of the divine.

The artist radically eschews the conventional and traditionalist aesthetic appeal of a calligraphic form in representing Allah, and creating an immersive and experiential representation.

This current body of work from the Soleless series has been produced in response to a 3 month artist residency program, working directly in reintegrating newly arrived Syrian refugee communities into the UK.

From this experience, first-hand accounts and interpersonal exchanges over the perilous passages ventured, stories of separation, loss and every day realities are intimately embroidered on the underside of worn shoes.

This current body of work from the Soleless series has been produced in response to a 3 month artist residency program, working directly in reintegrating newly arrived Syrian refugee communities into the UK.

From this experience, first-hand accounts and interpersonal exchanges over the perilous passages ventured, stories of separation, loss and every day realities are intimately embroidered on the underside of worn shoes.

In our species’ not so distant future, we have lost control of our stories.

Our world is now governed by tribal stories in their political, extremist, nationalistic, and sectarian genres. In this future, stories are diagnosed as a disease of the mind. An infection we must be quarantined away from.

In a bid to save itself from its own stories, our species sends forth its seeds into the stars in a mission to populate a new planet far away from the narratives of our own.

Carried on board a mother ship, whose mission is to sow a distant soil with a new, story-less, human tribe.

Each seed is a material that acts as a new technological skin, encasing the human life that grows within it.

A skin that is the final layer of our technological evolution designed to imprison the human instinct to tell stories.

There is no thirst inside this skin, no hunger, no illness or pain. The individual within is rendered self-sufficient, self-reliant and in no need of the collective tribe. The skin, through its obscuring helmet, prevents all human emotions and forms of expression from being transmitted out.

Any attempt to tell a story is caught by algorithms that censor, filter out, and mute through this wearable firewall.

But within this new tribe, the need to share the stories they each carried in isolation only grows stronger.

Until the first helmet is removed and a story is told.

Then the second helmet is removed and a story is first heard.

And when all the helmets are removed, the stories spread through the tribe until there is no one left to tell them, or for stories to be heard.

Except for one, ‘Al Al-Ashirah’, the one who placed back his helmet and returned to our planet, bringing with him the stories of his tribe.

In our species’ not so distant future, we have lost control of our stories.

Our world is now governed by tribal stories in their political, extremist, nationalistic, and sectarian genres. In this future, stories are diagnosed as a disease of the mind. An infection we must be quarantined away from.

In a bid to save itself from its own stories, our species sends forth its seeds into the stars in a mission to populate a new planet far away from the narratives of our own.

Carried on board a mother ship, whose mission is to sow a distant soil with a new, story-less, human tribe.

Each seed is a material that acts as a new technological skin, encasing the human life that grows within it.

A skin that is the final layer of our technological evolution designed to imprison the human instinct to tell stories.

There is no thirst inside this skin, no hunger, no illness or pain. The individual within is rendered self-sufficient, self-reliant and in no need of the collective tribe. The skin, through its obscuring helmet, prevents all human emotions and forms of expression from being transmitted out.

Any attempt to tell a story is caught by algorithms that censor, filter out, and mute through this wearable firewall.

But within this new tribe, the need to share the stories they each carried in isolation only grows stronger.

Until the first helmet is removed and a story is told.

Then the second helmet is removed and a story is first heard.

And when all the helmets are removed, the stories spread through the tribe until there is no one left to tell them, or for stories to be heard.

Except for one, ‘Al Al-Ashirah’, the one who placed back his helmet and returned to our planet, bringing with him the stories of his tribe.

In our species’ not so distant future, we have lost control of our stories.

Our world is now governed by tribal stories in their political, extremist, nationalistic, and sectarian genres. In this future, stories are diagnosed as a disease of the mind. An infection we must be quarantined away from.

In a bid to save itself from its own stories, our species sends forth its seeds into the stars in a mission to populate a new planet far away from the narratives of our own.

Carried on board a mother ship, whose mission is to sow a distant soil with a new, story-less, human tribe.

Each seed is a material that acts as a new technological skin, encasing the human life that grows within it.

A skin that is the final layer of our technological evolution designed to imprison the human instinct to tell stories.

There is no thirst inside this skin, no hunger, no illness or pain. The individual within is rendered self-sufficient, self-reliant and in no need of the collective tribe. The skin, through its obscuring helmet, prevents all human emotions and forms of expression from being transmitted out.

Any attempt to tell a story is caught by algorithms that censor, filter out, and mute through this wearable firewall.

But within this new tribe, the need to share the stories they each carried in isolation only grows stronger.

Until the first helmet is removed and a story is told.

Then the second helmet is removed and a story is first heard.

And when all the helmets are removed, the stories spread through the tribe until there is no one left to tell them, or for stories to be heard.

Except for one, ‘Al Al-Ashirah’, the one who placed back his helmet and returned to our planet, bringing with him the stories of his tribe.

In our species’ not so distant future, we have lost control of our stories.

Our world is now governed by tribal stories in their political, extremist, nationalistic, and sectarian genres. In this future, stories are diagnosed as a disease of the mind. An infection we must be quarantined away from.

In a bid to save itself from its own stories, our species sends forth its seeds into the stars in a mission to populate a new planet far away from the narratives of our own.

Carried on board a mother ship, whose mission is to sow a distant soil with a new, story-less, human tribe.

Each seed is a material that acts as a new technological skin, encasing the human life that grows within it.

A skin that is the final layer of our technological evolution designed to imprison the human instinct to tell stories.

There is no thirst inside this skin, no hunger, no illness or pain. The individual within is rendered self-sufficient, self-reliant and in no need of the collective tribe. The skin, through its obscuring helmet, prevents all human emotions and forms of expression from being transmitted out.

Any attempt to tell a story is caught by algorithms that censor, filter out, and mute through this wearable firewall.

But within this new tribe, the need to share the stories they each carried in isolation only grows stronger.

Until the first helmet is removed and a story is told.

Then the second helmet is removed and a story is first heard.

And when all the helmets are removed, the stories spread through the tribe until there is no one left to tell them, or for stories to be heard.

Except for one, ‘Al Al-Ashirah’, the one who placed back his helmet and returned to our planet, bringing with him the stories of his tribe.

In our species’ not so distant future, we have lost control of our stories.

Our world is now governed by tribal stories in their political, extremist, nationalistic, and sectarian genres. In this future, stories are diagnosed as a disease of the mind. An infection we must be quarantined away from.

In a bid to save itself from its own stories, our species sends forth its seeds into the stars in a mission to populate a new planet far away from the narratives of our own.

Carried on board a mother ship, whose mission is to sow a distant soil with a new, story-less, human tribe.

Each seed is a material that acts as a new technological skin, encasing the human life that grows within it.

A skin that is the final layer of our technological evolution designed to imprison the human instinct to tell stories.

There is no thirst inside this skin, no hunger, no illness or pain. The individual within is rendered self-sufficient, self-reliant and in no need of the collective tribe. The skin, through its obscuring helmet, prevents all human emotions and forms of expression from being transmitted out.

Any attempt to tell a story is caught by algorithms that censor, filter out, and mute through this wearable firewall.

But within this new tribe, the need to share the stories they each carried in isolation only grows stronger.

Until the first helmet is removed and a story is told.

Then the second helmet is removed and a story is first heard.

And when all the helmets are removed, the stories spread through the tribe until there is no one left to tell them, or for stories to be heard.

Except for one, ‘Al Al-Ashirah’, the one who placed back his helmet and returned to our planet, bringing with him the stories of his tribe.

In our species’ not so distant future, we have lost control of our stories.

Our world is now governed by tribal stories in their political, extremist, nationalistic, and sectarian genres. In this future, stories are diagnosed as a disease of the mind. An infection we must be quarantined away from.

In a bid to save itself from its own stories, our species sends forth its seeds into the stars in a mission to populate a new planet far away from the narratives of our own.

Carried on board a mother ship, whose mission is to sow a distant soil with a new, story-less, human tribe.

Each seed is a material that acts as a new technological skin, encasing the human life that grows within it.

A skin that is the final layer of our technological evolution designed to imprison the human instinct to tell stories.

There is no thirst inside this skin, no hunger, no illness or pain. The individual within is rendered self-sufficient, self-reliant and in no need of the collective tribe. The skin, through its obscuring helmet, prevents all human emotions and forms of expression from being transmitted out.

Any attempt to tell a story is caught by algorithms that censor, filter out, and mute through this wearable firewall.

But within this new tribe, the need to share the stories they each carried in isolation only grows stronger.

Until the first helmet is removed and a story is told.

Then the second helmet is removed and a story is first heard.

And when all the helmets are removed, the stories spread through the tribe until there is no one left to tell them, or for stories to be heard.

Except for one, ‘Al Al-Ashirah’, the one who placed back his helmet and returned to our planet, bringing with him the stories of his tribe.