Dreams and doubts of Saudi Arabian artists
RIYADH, Saudi Arabia — The government of this ultraconservative kingdom has lately become a tireless patron of the arts, sponsoring concerts by Western performers such as New Age artist Yanni and promoting comic festivals and book fairs. Cinemas, banned for decades, are set to open soon.
The thaw is part of a push by Saudi Arabia’s 32-year-old crown prince, Mohammed bin Salman, to ease some social restrictions, and the flurry of official announcements has thrilled a generation of young Saudis for whom a night of music or movies most often meant trips abroad.
But the plans have raised concerns, too, about the kind of cultural scene that emerges in a place governed by an austere religious creed and where the benefactor is an absolute monarchy that takes a dim view of unfettered speech. The undertaking has raised questions here about the role of independent artists who had toiled in the kingdom for years, navigating bureaucratic hurdles and rigid social boundaries to win international recognition for the Saudi arts.
Would the government’s plans give a boost to independent curators, underground musicians and firsttime filmmakers? Or would it lash art to the whims of government ministries and privilege only those artists favored by the state?
“Art should be away from any agendas. That is what makes us concerned,” said Abdulnasser Gharem, cofounder of a pioneering Saudi arts collective called Edge of Arabia.
The debate over culture gets at the nature of the sweeping changes underway in Saudi Arabia under Mohammed. A focus on entertainment and culture is central to a plan to diversify the country’s oil-dependent economy while expanding some social freedoms. Saudi officials and the crown prince’s supporters say the changes — including allowing women to drive (a concession promised by the late King Abdullah) and curbing the authority of the “religious police” in Tehran — represent a long-delayed effort to drag the kingdom into the modern era. Some initiatives, such as the opening of cinemas, have also promised a vast economic opportunity.
But critics warn that it will take years to determine whether highly touted government reforms — for example, to stamp out corruption and curb extremist discourse — were meant to change an ossified system or simply repackage it.
In embracing the arts, the Saudi leadership drew a lesson in image-making from its ally and neighbor, the United Arab Emirates, which long ago recognized that its homegrown cultural scene was also a “powerful tool of soft power and diplomacy,” said Beth Derderian, a doctoral candidate in anthropology at Northwestern University who studies the development of arts and culture in the UAE.
From his bustling studio in a villa in the capital, Gharem launched a residency program six years ago to nurture young Saudi artists. In a country where many view contemporary art with suspicion, the studio was a rare incubator of creativity. It reflected a small Saudi scene that flourished over the past decade — despite occasional clashes with religious figures and the government.
But artists also faced peril. One, Ashraf Fayadh, a Palestinian poet, curator and artist, was convicted on apostasy charges in 2015 and sentenced by a Saudi court to death by beheading. The accusations, which Fayadh’s lawyers said stemmed from a personal dispute, included charges that his poetry had promoted atheism.
After an international outcry, the sentence was reduced to eight years in prison, along with 800 lashes.
Efforts to foster culture are coming as artists are feeling increased pressure because of tensions in the Persian Gulf. A feud has divided the gulf monarchies, pitting Qatar against Saudi Arabia, Bahrain, the UAE and Egypt. In addition, surging hostilities between Shiite Iran and the Sunni gulf states has fueled an increasingly vicious sectarian enmity.
At a recent exhibition in Abu Dhabi, a painting by Gharem was removed, he said, after an official complained. The painting, called “Prosperity Without Growth,” depicted a figure wearing clothes that suggested he was both a Sunni and Shiite Muslim — a message about unity that apparently was too toxic for the moment.
“It’s not the time to tell the truth,” Gharem said.
Other Saudi artists were more optimistic.
“We say, ‘In movement, there is a blessing,’ ” said Mohammed Hafiz, co-founder of Athr, a contemporary gallery that opened in 2009, who has advised the government on its foray into culture.
He said officials are approaching the arts as a “holistic ecosystem” of theaters, museums, auction houses and other venues that would bolster arts education and nurture an embrace of art in society at large. One of the most ambitious projects, the King Abdulaziz Center for World Culture, features a library and museum, and recently launched a competition to promote contemporary Saudi artists.
And critically, he said, the government is consulting local artists as it moves forward — among them Ahmed Mater, one of Saudi Arabia’s best-known contemporary artists, whose work is being shown at the Brooklyn Museum.
There was bound to be a period of “trial and error,” Hafiz acknowledged. But, he said, “you stay still and nothing happens . . . The whole society is moving much faster than it was before.”
Khaled Nadershah, a 26-year old filmmaker shooting his first feature in Saudi Arabia, praised the plans to open cinemas and support filmmakers as encouraging first steps.
“There is a new wave of artists trying to find a Saudi popular culture,” he said. “It’s so inspiring. But I can’t say we are quite there yet.”
Ahmed Mater said he had agreed to head a government-sponsored art institute in part to represent his generation of independent artists.
“They will have a voice and a say in the purpose and direction of the institute,” he said in a text message, referring to a project by the Misk Foundation, sponsored by Mohammed.