1 gallery · 0 museums · 0 places
Al Muhammadiyah is a northern coastal neighbourhood mixing apartments, embassies, and ground-floor galleries near the Corniche.
No published museums in this district yet.
No published places in this district yet.
In a single decade, the Kingdom built a contemporary art ecosystem from almost nothing — ministries, biennials, museums, a market. Here is how it happened, what it has produced, and the questions that remain.
Vision 2030 did not simply fund some exhibitions; it rewired the institutional plumbing of an entire art world, and did so fast enough to unsettle the assumptions on which the Gulf's art map had been drawn.
A field guide to collecting Arab and Middle Eastern art — who buys, what it costs, why prices lag cultural significance, and where collectors are looking now.
How the Arab world went from selling its art history to the West to building the fastest-growing market for Middle Eastern art on earth — who buys, why, what it costs, and where the smart money is looking now
Hollywood came to AlUla to build Iraq and Afghanistan. Saudi Arabia is using the same landscape to build AlUla itself — destination, museum, cultural stage — and the old stone is being asked to say something new.
Hollywood built Iraq and Afghanistan in AlUla; Saudi Arabia is building AlUla into itself. On carved kings, a warning old as scripture, a mirror the size of a building, and who gets to author a place.
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.
A treeless port with no stone quarried its whole city out of the reef offshore — then oil and concrete let it walk away from the sea that built it.
Jeddah's old town isn't decorated with coral. It's made of it — reef cut soft from the water and hardened into towers. The strange part is what happened when the city no longer needed the sea.
In the deserts of North Africa and Arabia, ochre and terracotta were never a palette choice — they were what the wall was made of.
In most cities, colour is something you apply. In the old desert towns it was something you excavated — the red of Marrakech, the brown of Shibam and the gold of Diriyah all pulled straight from the ground underfoot. From iron-oxide chemistry to Hassan Fathy to the rammed-earth revival in Saudi Arabia, this is the story of a colour that outlived the place it came from.
