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Exhibo Editorial

Editorial

Long-form editorial from Exhibo and guest writers: curatorial essays, market analysis, fair reports, and deep dives into contemporary art worldwide.

A large landscaped roundabout in Doha, Qatar, with a monumental sculpture on its central island and multi-lane traffic circling it against a backdrop of West Bay towers.
Editorial

Doha · Qatar

Why Doha Is Full of Roundabouts

An old circle at a crossroads, sharpened by British road engineering, became the way an Arabian city found its way and remembered itself — and it took the bulldozers to reveal it.

In a city where a landmark was more useful than an address, Doha's roundabouts became its navigation, its landscaping and its national image all at once. Now they're being torn out for signalled junctions — and the affection for them arrived, as one scholar put it, only posthumously.

Stylised illustration of Tifinagh-like signs incised on a sandstone panel among desert rock-art figures of cattle, horsemen and ostriches — evoking the Libyco-Berber inscriptions of southern Morocco.
Editorial

Marrakech · Morocco

The Visual Language Older Than Arabic

How one of North Africa's oldest writing traditions survived conquest, colonial classification and the loss of its readers — and why, for much of it, we still cannot say what the marks mean.

A flat rock in southern Morocco is covered in a script you can see is writing and still cannot read a word of. It belongs to the Amazigh — a visual language older in North Africa than the Arabic alphabet, carried onto skin and wool and silver, nearly erased, and now reassembled into an alphabet on ministry walls. This is the story of what survived, what didn't, and why almost everything we "know" these signs mean was added later.

Sunlit central courtyard of a traditional Moroccan riad in the Fez medina, with zellij tilework, arched galleries and a fountain beneath an open square of sky.
Editorial

Marrakech · Morocco

Why North African Cities Turn Inward: The Story of the Courtyard

A courtyard plan far older than Islam turned North African houses — and the medinas built from them — to face inward. Climate and religion only half-explain why, and what finally displaced the courtyard says the rest.

The blank walls and inward courtyards of Fez, Tunis, Algiers and Cairo are usually explained by heat or religion. Both are true; neither is the whole story. The clue is in what eventually pushed the courtyard out of the modern city.

The colossal statue of Ramses II standing in the sunlit atrium of the Grand Egyptian Museum, reflected in the shallow pool at its base, with daylight falling through the roof.
Editorial

Cairo · Egypt

The Museum That Reflects Everything, Including You

How the world's largest single-civilisation museum gathers a nation's heritage, national story, tourism economy and repatriation claims under one reflective roof — and what those mirrored surfaces quietly ask of everyone who walks in.

Around the colossus of Ramses II, shallow pools mirror the floor so exactly that visitors keep stepping in. It is a small, faintly comic thing — and a way into a much larger question about the Grand Egyptian Museum. A civilisation is gathered here and made whole, while its three most famous faces stay abroad. A home for a nation's heritage opens, and the nation queues outside it. A monument to Egyptian sovereignty rises, financed largely from Tokyo.

A deep cobalt-blue Ilkhanid ceramic bowl decorated with white, red, and cut gold-leaf ornament, its glaze imitating the color of lapis lazuli.
Editorial

Tehran · Iran

Why Disney Made the Genie Blue

The long material and colonial history behind the most recognizable blue body in popular culture.

Almost everyone remembers that Disney's genie is blue. Fewer ask why. The answer runs backward through five thousand years — Egyptian blue standing in for lapis, cobalt on a Mongol palace, the eye that guards against envy, the last color most languages learned to name, and a layout artist photographing Isfahan just before a war — to a color that was rarely, in this part of the world, quite what it claimed to be.

Sunlight falls in scattered points through the perforated dome of the Louvre Abu Dhabi, Jean Nouvel's "rain of light," onto the pale stone of the museum's interior.
Editorial

Abu Dhabi · United Arab Emirates

The Universal Museum, Rebuilt on Arab Soil

How Abu Dhabi took one of the West's most contested ideas — the museum that claims to hold all of humanity — and moved the question of who gets to frame the world

A portolan chart in the floor, three ewers without a hierarchy, and a $450-million Leonardo no one has seen since it was bought. The Louvre Abu Dhabi is a French–Emirati experiment in what the universal museum becomes when it is rebuilt from a different centre — and whether that moves the centre, or merely moves the Louvre, is the question the building leaves open.

A hand-built terracotta figure painted with two-tone geometric patterns — triangles and crosshatch in red-brown on a pale ground — in the Sejnane style of northern Tunisia.
Editorial

Tunis · Tunisia

Women Makers: Sadu, Sejnane and the Art the West Called Craft

How the women of Sejnane and the Sadu tents made a world of geometric art the museum system had no shelf for — and how it is finally being called by its name.

Two women's traditions — the clay of Sejnane in Tunisia, the woven tents of the Arabian Peninsula — share no bloodline, only a rhyme: the same spare geometry, held and passed down by women, in whatever material their world gave them. This is the story of the visual knowledge the West filed under "craft," the makers it kept downstairs, and the contemporary artists now carrying it back up into the room where "art" is defined.

An Arabian oryx, white with long nearly straight ringed horns and dark facial markings, standing in pale desert sand.
Editorial

Abu Dhabi · United Arab Emirates

The Animal We Drew Everywhere Once It Was Gone

From Neolithic rock to airline tailfin — how the Arabian oryx vanished from the desert, came back from nine animals, and multiplied everywhere as a symbol in the very decades it was gone.

The last wild Arabian oryx was shot in 1972. By then it was already a picture — carved on Bronze Age tombs, mistaken by the ancients for a unicorn, praised by poets as the eyes of the beloved. This is the story of an animal that went extinct in the wild and was brought back from nine survivors, and of the strange gap between the creature and the emblem it became: fast, sharp and ascendant on a nation's tailfin, while the animal itself survives by standing still in the shade.

A massive granite column shaft under a stone arch, seen from below, with the dome springing above it.
Editorial

Istanbul · Turkey

Seventy Thousand Solomons: The Empire That Performed a Legend

A demon catalogue in the conqueror's library, a sixteenth-century text where kingship is an office held seventy thousand times, and the columns a sultan dragged across three provinces to prove he held it.

Mehmed II kept a Greek catalogue of demons in his library at Topkapı. Seventy years later a sultan named for a prophet was rebuilding the walls of Jerusalem and hauling Roman columns out of Egypt and the Lebanon into a mosque above the Golden Horn. In between, Ottoman writers turned Solomon from a warning into a job — and the empire applied for it in stone.