In Landscapes of the Mind, Al Dowayan reflects upon herself as a person, a symbol, a representative of a society and nation existing within a geographical construct. In her landscapes, the mountains, roads, buildings and structures are covered with symbols that obscure their true existence, blurring the simple reality of the visual scene. This conflict is intensified by the artist’s own existence within the space, rather than landscape, to which she belongs. The result is a surreal landscape which allows Manal to manipulate, reinvent and repackage the reality of her geography and space without physically altering it.

Landscape is an intensely visual concept. People do not live in landscapes - they observe them. The viewer is by definition an outsider. Media images portray Saudi Arabia as a landscape of black figures floating in a space of absence. Interpretations of history and tradition emanating from memory are intermingled with stereotypes and preconceptions. Ultimately, it is a landscape in conflict with itself.

Al Dowayan also reassesses contexts of space and power, confronting the forces that dictate the rules of existence in her landscapes. She adds a layer of self-reflection driven by the desire to understand who holds the power to define perspectives and stereotypes: the observed, the observer, the artist or the outsider?

In Landscapes of the Mind, Al Dowayan reflects upon herself as a person, a symbol, a representative of a society and nation existing within a geographical construct. In her landscapes, the mountains, roads, buildings and structures are covered with symbols that obscure their true existence, blurring the simple reality of the visual scene. This conflict is intensified by the artist’s own existence within the space, rather than landscape, to which she belongs. The result is a surreal landscape which allows Manal to manipulate, reinvent and repackage the reality of her geography and space without physically altering it.

Landscape is an intensely visual concept. People do not live in landscapes - they observe them. The viewer is by definition an outsider. Media images portray Saudi Arabia as a landscape of black figures floating in a space of absence. Interpretations of history and tradition emanating from memory are intermingled with stereotypes and preconceptions. Ultimately, it is a landscape in conflict with itself.

Al Dowayan also reassesses contexts of space and power, confronting the forces that dictate the rules of existence in her landscapes. She adds a layer of self-reflection driven by the desire to understand who holds the power to define perspectives and stereotypes: the observed, the observer, the artist or the outsider?

In Landscapes of the Mind, Al Dowayan reflects upon herself as a person, a symbol, a representative of a society and nation existing within a geographical construct. In her landscapes, the mountains, roads, buildings and structures are covered with symbols that obscure their true existence, blurring the simple reality of the visual scene. This conflict is intensified by the artist’s own existence within the space, rather than landscape, to which she belongs. The result is a surreal landscape which allows Manal to manipulate, reinvent and repackage the reality of her geography and space without physically altering it.

Landscape is an intensely visual concept. People do not live in landscapes - they observe them. The viewer is by definition an outsider. Media images portray Saudi Arabia as a landscape of black figures floating in a space of absence. Interpretations of history and tradition emanating from memory are intermingled with stereotypes and preconceptions. Ultimately, it is a landscape in conflict with itself.

Al Dowayan also reassesses contexts of space and power, confronting the forces that dictate the rules of existence in her landscapes. She adds a layer of self-reflection driven by the desire to understand who holds the power to define perspectives and stereotypes: the observed, the observer, the artist or the outsider?

In Landscapes of the Mind, Al Dowayan reflects upon herself as a person, a symbol, a representative of a society and nation existing within a geographical construct. In her landscapes, the mountains, roads, buildings and structures are covered with symbols that obscure their true existence, blurring the simple reality of the visual scene. This conflict is intensified by the artist’s own existence within the space, rather than landscape, to which she belongs. The result is a surreal landscape which allows Manal to manipulate, reinvent and repackage the reality of her geography and space without physically altering it.

Landscape is an intensely visual concept. People do not live in landscapes - they observe them. The viewer is by definition an outsider. Media images portray Saudi Arabia as a landscape of black figures floating in a space of absence. Interpretations of history and tradition emanating from memory are intermingled with stereotypes and preconceptions. Ultimately, it is a landscape in conflict with itself.

Al Dowayan also reassesses contexts of space and power, confronting the forces that dictate the rules of existence in her landscapes. She adds a layer of self-reflection driven by the desire to understand who holds the power to define perspectives and stereotypes: the observed, the observer, the artist or the outsider?

This collection is influenced by an ongoing dialogue that affects Arab women’s lives everyday; a dialogue that discusses the restrictions placed on women due to local traditions that have become entwined with religion and identity. Identity preservation among all cultures is strongly linked to traditions. As our societies rapidly develop to keep up with our changing world, people cling to certain traditions for a sense of safety. Local traditions should not be left unexamined. Women represent half of all communities. Therefore their potential and energy become valuable resources for a
healthy society. If traditions are used as a tool to suppress and control, our communities will become handicapped. Acknowledging women’s goals and embracing their achievements is essential to reach a needed state of societal balance.

This collection is influenced by an ongoing dialogue that affects Arab women’s lives everyday; a dialogue that discusses the restrictions placed on women due to local traditions that have become entwined with religion and identity. Identity preservation among all cultures is strongly linked to traditions. As our societies rapidly develop to keep up with our changing world, people cling to certain traditions for a sense of safety. Local traditions should not be left unexamined. Women represent half of all communities. Therefore their potential and energy become valuable resources for a healthy society. If traditions are used as a tool to suppress and control, our communities will become handicapped. Acknowledging women’s goals and embracing their achievements is essential to reach a needed state of societal balance.

This collection is influenced by an ongoing dialogue that affects Arab women’s lives everyday; a dialogue that discusses the restrictions placed on women due to local traditions that have become entwined with religion and identity. Identity preservation among all cultures is strongly linked to traditions. As our societies rapidly develop to keep up with our changing world, people cling to certain traditions for a sense of safety. Local traditions should not be left unexamined. Women represent half of all communities. Therefore their potential and energy become valuable resources for a healthy society. If traditions are used as a tool to suppress and control, our communities will become handicapped. Acknowledging women’s goals and embracing their achievements is essential to reach a needed state of societal balance.

This collection is influenced by an ongoing dialogue that affects Arab women’s lives everyday; a dialogue that discusses the restrictions placed on women due to local traditions that have become entwined with religion and identity. Identity preservation among all cultures is strongly linked to traditions. As our societies rapidly develop to keep up with our changing world, people cling to certain traditions for a sense of safety. Local traditions should not be left unexamined. Women represent half of all communities. Therefore their potential and energy become valuable resources for a healthy society. If traditions are used as a tool to suppress and control, our communities will become handicapped. Acknowledging women’s goals and embracing their achievements is essential to reach a needed state of societal balance.

This collection is influenced by an ongoing dialogue that affects Arab women’s lives everyday; a dialogue that discusses the restrictions placed on women due to local traditions that have become entwined with religion and identity. Identity preservation among all cultures is strongly linked to traditions. As our societies rapidly develop to keep up with our changing world, people cling to certain traditions for a sense of safety. Local traditions should not be left unexamined. Women represent half of all communities. Therefore their potential and energy become valuable resources for a healthy society. If traditions are used as a tool to suppress and control, our communities will become handicapped. Acknowledging women’s goals and embracing their achievements is essential to reach a needed state of societal balance.

This collection is influenced by an ongoing dialogue that affects Arab women’s lives everyday; a dialogue that discusses the restrictions placed on women due to local traditions that have become entwined with religion and identity. Identity preservation among all cultures is strongly linked to traditions. As our societies rapidly develop to keep up with our changing world, people cling to certain traditions for a sense of safety. Local traditions should not be left unexamined. Women represent half of all communities. Therefore their potential and energy become valuable resources for a healthy society. If traditions are used as a tool to suppress and control, our communities will become handicapped. Acknowledging women’s goals and embracing their achievements is essential to reach a needed state of societal balance.

Cities have sounds. The sound is ever-present, an expanding and contracting energy resonating within a single space. The city inhales, with difficulty, tension building, until it exhales - an intense release. With every breath the city takes, people gravitate towards it with a longing for the happiness that it promises. Little do they know, however, that when a city breathes, suffocation is bound to follow.

The city acts as a theatrical backdrop; it sets the scene and mood of the act to come. The city gives you the details, but not the story. We are mere props that complete the urban landscape. As the city grows its inhabitants slowly lose themselves, their identity, and eventually blend into this backdrop. Millions of people exist in anomie, surrounded by communities that they do not identify with. Every day, they live between concrete walls and are transported en masse to other concrete locations. They live suspended between states of consciousness and unconsciousness; existence plagued by isolation within congestion.

This context has spurred underground cultures that negate its imposed harmony, cultures with an anarchic spirit that refuse to be tied down by a framework or a definition. They bubble under the surface, exploring creative destruction and escapism. They try to dilute their solitude by reconnecting to their long lost love of the city. They seek emotional salvation at any cost.

This series of works depicts an imagined conversation between urban inhabitants and their cityscape. It is an unstable, symbiotic relationship in a constant state of uncertainty. It is a romance on the verge of collapse.

The artworks comprise delicate black and white prints representing the city, an elegant stage for the dialogue set forth. The conversation between the city and its inhabitants is represented with words and images that are superimposed with lights, buff-proof spray paint and ink. The rough and flashy medium of the foreground only further amplifies the people’s constant need for attention and reconciliation. The inhabitant asks, “Are you mine forever? Do you share my dreams? Do you long for me?” In response the city exhales.

As one of the most deprived social groups in terms of human rights, women are usually the source of hope and inspiration for their families and communities. The power that you sense from the firm pointing towards the dark unknown reflects the determination of many women in the Middle East and beyond, who continue the struggle to build a better world for their daughters and granddaughters, often with no hope of seeing their dreams become a reality. Knowing this, they continue to point to
the future. 

“Pointing to the Future” brings together Saudi women’s hands—different tribes, ages, and social backgrounds. One does not differentiate between the hands as they all point to the same goal.

As one of the most deprived social groups in terms of human rights, women are usually the source of hope and inspiration for their families and communities. The power that you sense from the firm pointing towards the dark unknown reflects the determination of many women in the Middle East and beyond, who continue the struggle to build a better world for their daughters and granddaughters, often with no hope of seeing their dreams become a reality. Knowing this, they continue to point to
the future.
“Pointing to the Future” brings together Saudi women’s hands—different tribes, ages, and social backgrounds. One does not differentiate between the hands as they all point to the same goal.

Cities have sounds. The sound is ever-present, an expanding and contracting energy resonating within a single space. The city inhales, with difficulty, tension building, until it exhales - an intense release. With every breath the city takes, people gravitate towards it with a longing for the happiness that it promises. Little do they know, however, that when a city breathes, suffocation is bound to follow.

The city acts as a theatrical backdrop; it sets the scene and mood of the act to come. The city gives you the details, but not the story. We are mere props that complete the urban landscape. As the city grows its inhabitants slowly lose themselves, their identity, and eventually blend into this backdrop. Millions of people exist in anomie, surrounded by communities that they do not identify with. Every day, they live between concrete walls and are transported en masse to other concrete locations. They live suspended between states of consciousness and unconsciousness; existence plagued by isolation within congestion.

This context has spurred underground cultures that negate its imposed harmony, cultures with an anarchic spirit that refuse to be tied down by a framework or a definition. They bubble under the surface, exploring creative destruction and escapism. They try to dilute their solitude by reconnecting to their long lost love of the city. They seek emotional salvation at any cost.

This series of works depicts an imagined conversation between urban inhabitants and their cityscape. It is an unstable, symbiotic relationship in a constant state of uncertainty. It is a romance on the verge of collapse.

The artworks comprise delicate black and white prints representing the city, an elegant stage for the dialogue set forth. The conversation between the city and its inhabitants is represented with words and images that are superimposed with lights, buff-proof spray paint and ink. The rough and flashy medium of the foreground only further amplifies the people’s constant need for attention and reconciliation. The inhabitant asks, “Are you mine forever? Do you share my dreams? Do you long for me?” In response the city exhales.

Cities have sounds. The sound is ever-present, an expanding and contracting energy resonating within a single space. The city inhales, with difficulty, tension building, until it exhales - an intense release. With every breath the city takes, people gravitate towards it with a longing for the happiness that it promises. Little do they know, however, that when a city breathes, suffocation is bound to follow.

The city acts as a theatrical backdrop; it sets the scene and mood of the act to come. The city gives you the details, but not the story. We are mere props that complete the urban landscape. As the city grows its inhabitants slowly lose themselves, their identity, and eventually blend into this backdrop. Millions of people exist in anomie, surrounded by communities that they do not identify with. Every day, they live between concrete walls and are transported en masse to other concrete locations. They live suspended between states of consciousness and unconsciousness; existence plagued by isolation within congestion.

This context has spurred underground cultures that negate its imposed harmony, cultures with an anarchic spirit that refuse to be tied down by a framework or a definition. They bubble under the surface, exploring creative destruction and escapism. They try to dilute their solitude by reconnecting to their long lost love of the city. They seek emotional salvation at any cost.

This series of works depicts an imagined conversation between urban inhabitants and their cityscape. It is an unstable, symbiotic relationship in a constant state of uncertainty. It is a romance on the verge of collapse.

The artworks comprise delicate black and white prints representing the city, an elegant stage for the dialogue set forth. The conversation between the city and its inhabitants is represented with words and images that are superimposed with lights, buff-proof spray paint and ink. The rough and flashy medium of the foreground only further amplifies the people’s constant need for attention and reconciliation. The inhabitant asks, “Are you mine forever? Do you share my dreams? Do you long for me?” In response the city exhales.

Cities have sounds. The sound is ever-present, an expanding and contracting energy resonating within a single space. The city inhales, with difficulty, tension building, until it exhales - an intense release. With every breath the city takes, people gravitate towards it with a longing for the happiness that it promises. Little do they know, however, that when a city breathes, suffocation is bound to follow.

The city acts as a theatrical backdrop; it sets the scene and mood of the act to come. The city gives you the details, but not the story. We are mere props that complete the urban landscape. As the city grows its inhabitants slowly lose themselves, their identity, and eventually blend into this backdrop. Millions of people exist in anomie, surrounded by communities that they do not identify with. Every day, they live between concrete walls and are transported en masse to other concrete locations. They live suspended between states of consciousness and unconsciousness; existence plagued by isolation within congestion.

This context has spurred underground cultures that negate its imposed harmony, cultures with an anarchic spirit that refuse to be tied down by a framework or a definition. They bubble under the surface, exploring creative destruction and escapism. They try to dilute their solitude by reconnecting to their long lost love of the city. They seek emotional salvation at any cost.

This series of works depicts an imagined conversation between urban inhabitants and their cityscape. It is an unstable, symbiotic relationship in a constant state of uncertainty. It is a romance on the verge of collapse.

The artworks comprise delicate black and white prints representing the city, an elegant stage for the dialogue set forth. The conversation between the city and its inhabitants is represented with words and images that are superimposed with lights, buff-proof spray paint and ink. The rough and flashy medium of the foreground only further amplifies the people’s constant need for attention and reconciliation. The inhabitant asks, “Are you mine forever? Do you share my dreams? Do you long for me?” In response the city exhales.

I belong to a community of oil families that were spontaneously put together, they all took a collective life journey, and came back to create a culture of their own. This generation can never be replicated again, and for me it creates an impossible past to relate to … but I want to relate.

By constructing the memory of my late father’s generation of men and women at a different time than the one I knew him in, I wanted to create my own stories and personal narratives from the collective memories of these men and women … I wanted to own my past.

In times of uncertainty it becomes hard to predict the future, and by creating an emotional bond to the past I can place my self in the present and can have an understanding of the historical story I belong to … I wanted to own my future.
How do you photograph a memory that is forever changing? How do you capture a moment that existed 50 years ago in Saudi Arabia? I document the journey of the Oil men and women, one generation before me, who came from different facets of life and met each other at a single point where they took off to the future together.
Through conversations and objects that I capture, I create a hybrid experience that blurs the borders that separate the installation, the object and the photograph. I take you through an experiential journey that intensifies your sensory reactions to what is a “collective memory” of a group.

In one of my interviews an Oil man said “I was lucky to be part of a generation that saw their dreams become a reality” … I want to dream.

I belong to a community of oil families that were spontaneously put together, they all took a collective life journey, and came back to create a culture of their own. This generation can never be replicated again, and for me it creates an impossible past to relate to … but I want to relate.

By constructing the memory of my late father’s generation of men and women at a different time than the one I knew him in, I wanted to create my own stories and personal narratives from the collective memories of these men and women … I wanted to own my past.

In times of uncertainty it becomes hard to predict the future, and by creating an emotional bond to the past I can place my self in the present and can have an understanding of the historical story I belong to … I wanted to own my future.
How do you photograph a memory that is forever changing? How do you capture a moment that existed 50 years ago in Saudi Arabia? I document the journey of the Oil men and women, one generation before me, who came from different facets of life and met each other at a single point where they took off to the future together.
Through conversations and objects that I capture, I create a hybrid experience that blurs the borders that separate the installation, the object and the photograph. I take you through an experiential journey that intensifies your sensory reactions to what is a “collective memory” of a group.

In one of my interviews an Oil man said “I was lucky to be part of a generation that saw their dreams become a reality” … I want to dream.

I belong to a community of oil families that were spontaneously put together, they all took a collective life journey, and came back to create a culture of their own. This generation can never be replicated again, and for me it creates an impossible past to relate to … but I want to relate.

By constructing the memory of my late father’s generation of men and women at a different time than the one I knew him in, I wanted to create my own stories and personal narratives from the collective memories of these men and women … I wanted to own my past.

In times of uncertainty it becomes hard to predict the future, and by creating an emotional bond to the past I can place my self in the present and can have an understanding of the historical story I belong to … I wanted to own my future.
How do you photograph a memory that is forever changing? How do you capture a moment that existed 50 years ago in Saudi Arabia? I document the journey of the Oil men and women, one generation before me, who came from different facets of life and met each other at a single point where they took off to the future together.
Through conversations and objects that I capture, I create a hybrid experience that blurs the borders that separate the installation, the object and the photograph. I take you through an experiential journey that intensifies your sensory reactions to what is a “collective memory” of a group.

In one of my interviews an Oil man said “I was lucky to be part of a generation that saw their dreams become a reality” … I want to dream.

I belong to a community of oil families that were spontaneously put together, they all took a collective life journey, and came back to create a culture of their own. This generation can never be replicated again, and for me it creates an impossible past to relate to … but I want to relate.

By constructing the memory of my late father’s generation of men and women at a different time than the one I knew him in, I wanted to create my own stories and personal narratives from the collective memories of these men and women … I wanted to own my past.

In times of uncertainty it becomes hard to predict the future, and by creating an emotional bond to the past I can place my self in the present and can have an understanding of the historical story I belong to … I wanted to own my future.
How do you photograph a memory that is forever changing? How do you capture a moment that existed 50 years ago in Saudi Arabia? I document the journey of the Oil men and women, one generation before me, who came from different facets of life and met each other at a single point where they took off to the future together.
Through conversations and objects that I capture, I create a hybrid experience that blurs the borders that separate the installation, the object and the photograph. I take you through an experiential journey that intensifies your sensory reactions to what is a “collective memory” of a group.

In one of my interviews an Oil man said “I was lucky to be part of a generation that saw their dreams become a reality” … I want to dream.

I belong to a community of oil families that were spontaneously put together, they all took a collective life journey, and came back to create a culture of their own. This generation can never be replicated again, and for me it creates an impossible past to relate to … but I want to relate.

By constructing the memory of my late father’s generation of men and women at a different time than the one I knew him in, I wanted to create my own stories and personal narratives from the collective memories of these men and women … I wanted to own my past.

In times of uncertainty it becomes hard to predict the future, and by creating an emotional bond to the past I can place my self in the present and can have an understanding of the historical story I belong to … I wanted to own my future.
How do you photograph a memory that is forever changing? How do you capture a moment that existed 50 years ago in Saudi Arabia? I document the journey of the Oil men and women, one generation before me, who came from different facets of life and met each other at a single point where they took off to the future together.
Through conversations and objects that I capture, I create a hybrid experience that blurs the borders that separate the installation, the object and the photograph. I take you through an experiential journey that intensifies your sensory reactions to what is a “collective memory” of a group.

In one of my interviews an Oil man said “I was lucky to be part of a generation that saw their dreams become a reality” … I want to dream.

I belong to a community of oil families that were spontaneously put together, they all took a collective life journey, and came back to create a culture of their own. This generation can never be replicated again, and for me it creates an impossible past to relate to … but I want to relate.

By constructing the memory of my late father’s generation of men and women at a different time than the one I knew him in, I wanted to create my own stories and personal narratives from the collective memories of these men and women … I wanted to own my past.

In times of uncertainty it becomes hard to predict the future, and by creating an emotional bond to the past I can place my self in the present and can have an understanding of the historical story I belong to … I wanted to own my future.
How do you photograph a memory that is forever changing? How do you capture a moment that existed 50 years ago in Saudi Arabia? I document the journey of the Oil men and women, one generation before me, who came from different facets of life and met each other at a single point where they took off to the future together.
Through conversations and objects that I capture, I create a hybrid experience that blurs the borders that separate the installation, the object and the photograph. I take you through an experiential journey that intensifies your sensory reactions to what is a “collective memory” of a group.

In one of my interviews an Oil man said “I was lucky to be part of a generation that saw their dreams become a reality” … I want to dream.

I belong to a community of oil families that were spontaneously put together, they all took a collective life journey, and came back to create a culture of their own. This generation can never be replicated again, and for me it creates an impossible past to relate to … but I want to relate.

By constructing the memory of my late father’s generation of men and women at a different time than the one I knew him in, I wanted to create my own stories and personal narratives from the collective memories of these men and women … I wanted to own my past.

In times of uncertainty it becomes hard to predict the future, and by creating an emotional bond to the past I can place my self in the present and can have an understanding of the historical story I belong to … I wanted to own my future.
How do you photograph a memory that is forever changing? How do you capture a moment that existed 50 years ago in Saudi Arabia? I document the journey of the Oil men and women, one generation before me, who came from different facets of life and met each other at a single point where they took off to the future together.
Through conversations and objects that I capture, I create a hybrid experience that blurs the borders that separate the installation, the object and the photograph. I take you through an experiential journey that intensifies your sensory reactions to what is a “collective memory” of a group.

In one of my interviews an Oil man said “I was lucky to be part of a generation that saw their dreams become a reality” … I want to dream.