New exhibitions at galleries of Alserkal Avenue in Dubai
▶ After its summer lull, Alserkal Avenue is back with new exhibitions galore. But what to see? Melissa Gronlund offers her expert itinerary
At last, after a long summer, when dust eddied around the lanes of Alserkal Avenue and parking was atypically easy, the galleries reopened last night in Dubai’s Al Quoz. As always, it was a busy event, so let me be your guide for what to expect.
Personally, I like to head through Alserkal Avenue methodically, taking in each gallery in order. Not for me the good-times of “hey, we’re heading to The Third Line!” Nope. I end at The Third Line, and I have a strict itinerary until then that no amount of “fun” will budge me from.
Start at Lawrie Shabibi, the first gallery on the corner as you come in from First Al Khail Street. Lane Five (which no one says, I actually had to Google that) is rich with galleries – and you will do well to keep up a fast clip. Don’t dilly-dally.
Lawrie Shabibi opens with a show by Shaikha Al Mazrou, a young Emirati artist who brings histories of sculpture into conceptual, almost legible plays on how the work is made. Her standing column at Abu Dhabi Art last year was constructed according to the Fibonacci sequence; for an Admaf commission two years ago, she dug a Robert Smithson-like earth work into the desert of Ras Al Khaimah. The works in this show are thoughtful and rich in colour, but also a bit loopy: the softness of bright pillows cast in steel.
Now head across the street to Ayyam Gallery, which has an outpost in Beirut and one of the more reliably Middle Eastern programmes. Last night saw a debut for selftaught Syrian artist Elias Izoli with paintings reflecting on children during the Syrian conflict, which has now stretched on for, as his show’s title has it, Seven Years.
Next door, 1x1 Gallery shows work from India and is always a potential surprise. I don’t love all their shows, but because Indian work – for a variety of reasons – is often absent from the global contemporary art circuit, it’s a place to find art that should be better-known. Last night, they showed sculptures by veteran Mumbai artist Sunil Gawde, such as light bulbs, that reflect on the nature of seeing.
After that, head to Galerie Isabelle van den Eynde – and you are in for a treat. Few things are more exciting than when an established artist changes direction. You really get a chance to see the ideas they’re toying with, as much as how they are tackled formally. With this show, Dubai conceptual artist Mohammed Kazem, who was a younger member of the circle of artists anchored by Hassan Sharif, turns his hand to a rather more accessible medium: painting. His project remains the same – an attempt to capture the evanescent moments of life and the people who pass through them – but now rendered in acrylic and ink, in images of windows, doors and scenes from his Dubai neighbourhood.
And with that, it’s khalas for Lane Five. That’s the hardest lane – from there, you’re on easy street. You don’t need to pretend-text now if you see someone you know: you can stop to talk. And you have four galleries under your belt, so you are cued up for conversation. Remember, there’s no “I didn’t like that” or “I thought it was good” in the art world. It’s only “I’m not convinced” and “the show was really exciting”.
The next lane brings you El Marsa (nothing there last night) and, opposite, Green Art Gallery, whose director, Yasmin Atassi, does a fine line in group shows. Such shows are a tricky brief, particularly in a commercial gallery: the theme linking the artists can seem tangential, or can overpower the works themselves. But Green Art Gallery gives them a light touch and a slightly academic sensibility. One recent show looked at art made by Modernist women in Egypt; another looked at artists whose work toes the line between art and architecture. Atassi gives this exhibition over to curator Sara Alonso Gomez from Havana to show work by Cuban and regional artists, on the hunch that, as Atassi told me, that there are under-explored connections between the Cuban and Arab art scenes.
Next, head to Grey Noise, everyone’s favourite uncompromising gallery. Last night, it launched a show by Lantian Xie, a key figure in the era of Alserkal Avenue in the Dubai art world, whose mesmerising, critical and oblique practice seeks to retrace histories – both personal and of Dubai almost as a character – that don’t make it to the institutionalised level of the history books. If you can, ask for a tour: it’s a gallery where a little bit of information makes the work come alive.
Now, I love art. I could talk about art for breakfast, have a little more of it for lunch, then finish off dinner with a big discussion about biennialisation. I love it so much that my husband is sick of it. But even I can appreciate that Alserkal Avenue preview nights require a deep, devoted slog: at this point, normally, you would only be a third of the way through. Last night, however, the remaining major galleries kept their powder dry until Alserkal Late next Monday. The Art Jameel Project Space, which is currently preparing for its big move to the new Jameel Arts Centre, will host a performance workshop by Sara Masinaei, and Alserkal Avenue’s commissioning strand will also stage a dance performance by Vilnius-based Migle Praniauskaite Dance Company. The Third Line, the duplex mother-ship at the top of the Avenue, will also open its autumn show next week: geometries by Nima Nabavi and, in a nice pairing, gorgeously mirrored, also intricately geometric work by Monir Shahroudy Farmanfarmaian. Finally, later in October, the Jean-Paul Najar Foundation will mount a historical show about monochrome painting.
That means, only two to go. You will go a little out of order here: stop by Showcase first for their show of Ragini Dewan’s textured paintings, then finish your night at Carbon 12, where there is a potentially raucous exhibition of a style of exaggerated painting that first took the art world by storm about 10 years ago: cartoonish figures, a healthy dose of subliminal imagery, some hilarity and ironically slapdash paint-handling. A little like the art world itself.