The Brooklyn Rail

Calling the second edition of the Islamic Arts Biennale in Jeddah a "Biennale" is a misnomer. While it follows the biennial schedule, it diverges from the conventional international exhibition format popularised by Venice in the 19th century. Instead, the event in Jeddah feels more akin to a museum, shaped by the prominence of historical objects that map the diversity of Islam and its artistic expression across diverse regions and eras. The Biennale presents a remarkable collection of 500 objects from the Islamic world, sourced both from the Kingdom and through collaborations with over 30 institutions across 20 countries—including the Vatican. Curated under the direction of four artistic leads— Dr. Abdul Rahman Azzam, Dr. Amin Jaffer, Dr. Julian Raby and Mohammed Shono—the exhibition constructs a cohesive narrative, which reflects an ambition to bridge seemingly separate disciplines that constitute the umbrella term “Islamic Arts”—architecture, design, calligraphy, and spirituality—while connecting their intangible influences. Thus, at the most fundamental level, this exhibition is about reunification: between the ancient and the contemporary, the tangible and the immaterial, and the intersections of civilisations and religions. The Biennale is structured around seven interconnected blocs, unified under the theme “And All That Is In Between.” This phrase—repeated multiple times in the Quran—reflects the vast, interconnected nature of creation, encompassing the seen and unseen and explores how we attempt to comprehend and acknowledge Divine creation—through our hearts, minds, and hands. Yet, beyond its curatorial ambitions, the Biennale also serves a broader function: it signals Saudi Arabia’s growing openness to foreign audiences of all backgrounds.

It is remarkable to witness sacred Islamic artifacts rarely accessible to non-Muslim audiences, a privilege particularly evident in the first gallery, Albidayah. This gallery introduces objects representing the ultimate sanctities of Islam—the Qur’an (the Word of God) and the Ka’bah (the House of God). Among these, one object stands out: the Kiswah, the drapery that envelops the Ka’bah, which is traditionally removed and replaced annually, with its fragments distributed among the most esteemed patrons of the faith. However, in 2024, for the first time, it was preserved in its entirety and presented at the Biennale. This unprecedented act is particularly striking given that non-Muslims are not permitted to enter Mecca. In many ways, the Biennale has brought a part of Mecca to its visitors—an act of extraordinary religious generosity. The display of the Kiswah is both immersive and reverential, as it echoes the sacred architecture of the Masjid al-Haram. White, translucent fabric softens the room’s sharp angles, subtly alluding to the circular movement of pilgrims around the Ka’bah. At the same time, scenographer Kaveh Dabiri explains that he sought to introduce a “sense of abstraction,” presenting these intensely charged religious objects in a “contemporary manner.” Suspended from the ceiling, the Kiswah’s immense scale makes it one of the most imposing elements of the Biennale, allowing for a rare two-sided view. The room also houses other sacred artifacts, such as the Ka’bah’s key, further amplifying the spiritual intensity of this experience given that the exhibition site is situated less than one hundred kilometers from Islam’s birthplace.

Although the Islamic Biennale is titularly rooted in theology, it deliberately introduces contemporary art in conversation with Islamic artifacts. For Muhannad Shono, artistic director of the contemporary section, the very act of bringing “notions of faith in Islam and contemporary thought into dialogue—allowing for reinterpretation, reimagination, and questioning—serves as a testament to change.” This sentiment is difficult to dispute. Saudi Arabia is undergoing unprecedented social and economic transformation, from lifting gender segregation in public spaces and abolishing legal guardianship laws for women to allowing women to drive. Economically, the country is diversifying away from oil dependence and investing in tourism, art, and soft power, of which the Biennale is a prime manifestation. Ultimately, placing contemporary works alongside historical artifacts aims “to refresh ideas about Islamic arts” states H.E. Rakan Altouq, Assistant Minister of Culture of Saudi Arabia, and considers the Biennale as a “blueprint for how to think in new ways about Islamic art.”

The outdoor space of the Biennale, Al Midhallah (The Canopy), unfolds beneath a grand tent-like structure inspired by vernacular nomadic architecture. It is situated under the Western Hajj Terminal at Jeddah’s King Abdulaziz Airport, designed by Gordon Bunshaft and Fazlur Khan, and awarded the Aga Khan Award for Architecture in 1983 for its role as a gateway for millions of pilgrims. Rooted in the concept of a garden, Al Midhallah is not just a physical space with mixed-media art installations, but a regenerative, collective space, and also a tool to connect with a given place, community or ancestry. Among its installations, Melo Mahallah (2025) by Slavs and Tatars stands out—despite, ironically, initially blending into its sandy, subdued surroundings. Shaped like the Arabic letter “qaf,” it references the winter melon, a fruit tied to legends of the Garden of Eden in Central Asia. Hidden within, blown glass illuminated melons reveal themselves only upon entering, creating an immersive experience that mirrors the act of deciphering meaning and uncovering hidden connections. The installation also echoes barjeels and traditional Gulf wind towers, reinforcing the interplay between architecture, art, and climate adaptation—a theme similarly explored in the adjacent modular Musalla designed by EAST Architecture Studio, winner of this edition of the AlMusalla Prize competition for small prayer spaces. Together, these works transform the garden into a space that transcends a metaphor, as it metamorphoses into a space of revelation where contemporary art and Islamic tradition meet in a conversation.

The unorthodox approach of the Islamic Biennale extends beyond its juxtaposition of contemporary and historical works. In Almuqtani Gallery, curated by Dr. Amin Jaffer, the spotlight shifts to two private collections—a striking inclusion for an event centred on Islamic heritage. While private collections are not uncommon in exhibitions, their presence here underscores how individual collectors have played a crucial role in preserving the Islamic artistic legacy, especially in a region where museums are still a relatively recent phenomenon. Thus, as Dr. Jaffer elucidates, this section is about understanding the “personal tastes and curatorial vision” behind these collections. The two collections—the Al Thani Collection of Sheikh Hamad Bin Abdullah Al Thani and the Furusiyya Collection of Rifat Medhat Sheikh El Ard—together feature 200 objects, offering distinct yet complementary histories. The Al Thani Collection presents a sweeping survey of Islamic craftsmanship across civilisations and eras, from the Neolithic to today. Meanwhile, the Furusiyya Collection is dedicated to Islamic chivalric culture, showcasing many objects that once travelled between the Islamic world and European courts as diplomatic gifts and symbols of cultural exchange. The latter collection, which began with the founder’s exposure to Spain, further highlights the deep historical interconnections between these regions, often obscured by Orientalist narratives.

Overall, the Islamic Biennale arrives amid intense political turbulence in the region—from the unresolved future for Gaza and its inhabitants, to the collapse of the Assad regime, assassinations of Iranian Supreme Court judges, and continued instability in Yemen and Lebanon. Yet, amongst these fractures, the Biennale offers a moment of transcendence, reminding us that art and religion can momentarily eclipse the realm of politics. This Biennale paints a fascinating portrait of religion's enduring influence upon artists from the Islamic world. For nearly two millennia, the union between religion and the arts in Christian civilisations was unshakable, shaping a collective identity for believers. However, with the widespread advent of secularisation in Western societies, the relationship between the two became increasingly fraught. Paradoxically, then, the Biennale’s inclusive stance toward contemporary art—one that does not detach religion from aesthetic innovation—emerges as something quite novel. Dr. Raby notes that Western institutions have frequently “eviscerated sacred objects of their spiritual and emotional context,” reducing them to mere “aesthetic artifacts.”

By contrast, the Biennale reaffirms that religion or religious identity and ambitious contemporary art need not be mutually exclusive. As Dr. Raby suggests, the West might learn from this approach—one that restores emotion, spirituality, and cultural ties to objects often stripped of deeper significance. While the delegation from the Saudi Ministry of Culture did not elaborate on long-term plans for the Biennale—nor whether there is an intention to transform it into a museum for which it meets all the needed preconditions—other than fulfilling the promise to reinvent both local and international perspectives on Islamic arts, the event has also catalysed important cross-cultural engagement during a time of political upheaval. This was evident in its partnership with the Vatican’s Apostolic Library: a modest but symbolically weighty collaboration, given the presence of a Vatican delegation in the birthplace of Islam. It reframes the Biennale as a platform for cooperation between Christian and Islamic civilisations, highlighting a shared history of mutual influence too often overshadowed by prevailing narratives. Cardinal Angelo Vincenzo Zani, Archivist and Librarian of the Holy Roman Church, observes that Saudi Arabia’s invitation went beyond simply requesting loaned works; it reflected a “desire to establish a relationship with a Western entity where a solid dialogue can flourish based on shared anthropological values.” In an ongoing commitment to this “cultural diplomacy,” Cardinal Zani offered a glimpse into a future in which this “interreligious and intercultural dialogue” is fortified back at the Vatican itself “with an active participation of the Diriyah Biennale Foundation and involvement on a high political level which is already underway.” In this sense, the Islamic Biennale does much more than showcase art; it opens new pathways for cross-cultural understanding and affirms that faith and creativity remain potent forces for dialogue and unity.