In the Saudi Pavilion at the Venice Biennale, Saudi artist of Palestinian origin, Dana Awartani, takes us on an immersive journey to discover an artistic map of archaeological and historical landmarks destroyed by war. It is not a geographical map, but rather a magnificent mosaic composed of thousands of clay pieces, molded and baked under the Riyadh sun, then colored with natural pigments to form geometric patterns and designs.
These patterns are drawn from historical sites, buildings, and monuments that have stood for centuries in the Arab region, witnessing the rise and fall of states and kingdoms, until they too were destroyed, stripped of their place and significance in the collective Arab heritage.
In her work, Awartani has consistently depicted the waves of demolition and destruction that have swept across various Arab countries. Who can forget her monumental piece at the first Riyadh Contemporary Art Biennale, which encapsulated a part of the history of the Great Mosque in Aleppo, Syria, and the tiles of the Hammam al-Samra in Gaza, which she presented at the Bukhara Contemporary Art Biennale last year?
Documentation with Clay and Colors
The theme is expansive, and Awartani's works diligently and patiently record what has been removed and destroyed, imbued with the conviction that we must document what we lose daily because of wars, destruction, and attempts at erasure.
She speaks of her research to learn more about the increasingly demolished buildings and archaeological sites. It's worth noting that her work coincides with escalating violence in the region, as if recording history moment by moment and commenting on the events unfolding before us. Perhaps this element will amplify the impact of the pavilion, as the destruction and demolition are happening now, and Dana's work becomes an immediate commentary on these events.
In Venice, her work evokes twenty-three historical sites of significant historical importance, each possessing immense cultural and material value.
The Beginning in Riyadh
In her studio in Riyadh, Dana began working on the monumental artwork representing Saudi Arabia at the Venice Biennale. There, under the scorching sun, workers and craftsmen were engrossed in shaping and arranging clay molds according to a meticulously detailed blueprint that Awartani carried with her. She spoke with the craftsmen, discussing the pieces and their placement.
For her Venice piece, she chose a title inspired by the poetry of Abu Nuwas: "May your tears never dry, you who weep over the ruins." The theme of ruins is a recurring motif in her work. She has addressed numerous Arab monuments that have been destroyed and reduced to ruins, their destruction evoking grief and tears. However, Dana views these ruins with a unique perspective, incorporating them into her art. She continues her research on targeted and destroyed monuments, documenting every new discovery.
During our interview, she spoke about archaeological sites, mosques, churches, and even several synagogues that were reduced to rubble by an aggressive attack that disregarded the past, history, and culture.
Despite choosing a topic addressed by the poet Abu Nuwas, the artist disagrees with his mockery of those who stand on ruins, saying that ruins represent a history that has lived and witnessed cultures and peoples, and some of it will remain after the people are gone: “I believe that these stones carry their history and tell the stories of the people who lived here for hundreds of years. These stones may remain after the living have passed away. Therefore, I did not agree with that poem, but I quoted that particular sentence out of context and used it to illustrate my point of view.”
The Mosaic Carpet
In Venice, Awartani's work stands out across the entire Saudi pavilion, resembling a mosaic carpet made from colorful bricks. The piece is divided into different visual themes, all inspired by the Middle East, as she explained to Asharq Al-Awsat during a special tour of the studio where the work was created outside Riyadh last January. "All the motifs I used here are taken from different places in the Middle East, and all of them have been destroyed," she said.
In her research, she documented the details of the destroyed sites and what happened to them, then extracted distinctive artistic forms and motifs from each location. She points out that the shapes and decorations vary in origin and history, including Roman and Byzantine styles: "There are many shapes and designs, but I make sure that every design I present includes a reference to a place that has been destroyed."
At the Venice exhibition, all this information is displayed on one of the walls.
An Imagined Archaeological Site
The location of the Saudi pavilion at the Venice Biennale offered the artist a tremendous opportunity to showcase her work. The space was vast and abstract, and Awartani had several ways to present her piece, but she rejected the idea of a traditional display. She explains that the presentation could convey a message of "liberating antiquities from a colonial perspective."
She aimed to create an immersive experience, drawing visitors into the work. Visitors walk through designated pathways between adjacent mosaic tiles, raised on wooden bases without artificial or imposed boundaries. "We wanted the audience to feel like they were part of the work, walking among these elements," she says. "It's like an imagined archaeological site. That's why the entire floor is covered in earth."
She describes the work as an "immersive ground installation" that incorporates a mix of different designs. "I didn't want to create a map showing the origin of each pattern, because many of these patterns exist in multiple locations. It's a shared heritage, and you can't simply say: this is a Palestinian pattern, this is a Syrian pattern, and this is a Lebanese pattern. They are all very similar; our heritage is shared and important to all of us."
She explains the visual patterns and geometric designs used in the work: “There are two patterns from Gaza, one from the Al-Bureij mosaic, and the other from the Monastery of St. Peter. There is also a collection of forms from Beiteddine Palace in Lebanon. There is also a palm tree from a monastery in Syria. Upon entering the building, the visitor will find a wall plaque detailing the main concepts and listing all the sites I mentioned. Most are residential spaces, but many are Christian sites: monasteries, churches, the Church of the Nativity, the Church of All Nations, and Bethlehem and Jerusalem, which have suffered historical damage. This is because mosaics are used extensively in these places.”
Fragile Beauty
From the moment we enter the hall, the pieces unfold before us in a serene and fragile beauty. We follow different patterns, noticing that each pattern belongs to a specific place. Some are cracked and appear as if they have just arrived from their actual geographical location, a place of destruction and fragmentation. But this fragile state stems from the artist's desire for the work to reflect the condition of the damaged archaeological sites. In the clay mixture used, she omitted adding straw, which helps bind the pieces together, and left the clay pieces to the effects of nature. She believes that the occurrence of cracks is natural and serves the idea. She did the same when using natural colors to paint the brick pieces and did not try to fix them with artificial materials.
"It won't stay this vibrant because the colors are natural and are absorbed by the clay, but I also didn't want to put a sealant or anything artificial on it."
Mosaics.. From East to West and Back
The artist chose to use mosaics for her work, seeing them as an embodiment of the connections between East and West.
"During my research, I discovered that the first mosaics appeared in Mesopotamia, specifically in Iraq. They then spread to the Roman Empire, and mosaic art flourished in Italy, where it was widely used in Christian places of worship. When the Byzantines reached Palestine, Syria, and Lebanon, they brought this art back to the region. Therefore, most of the patterns I use here are inspired by traditional mosaics from that era."
The use of mosaics might not seem out of place in Venice, whose churches boast exquisite examples of them.
A Collaborative Endeavor
The work required over 30,000 hours of labor, involving thirty-two artisans from Riyadh and beyond. The artist has consistently collaborated with artisans specializing in her work, and she has a philosophy behind this.
She speaks of collaborating with artisans as essential to her: “I try to think of it this way: I wouldn’t go to a factory and ask them to carve the stones by machine. I prefer working with people in the traditional way because I also care about preserving the traditional technique. The same applies to this project. It was done using traditional clay, but I modified the technique in a way. Traditional mud bricks contain sand and straw to make them strong and prevent cracking. I deliberately omitted these to make them crack. Mud bricks are usually used in building structures and houses, but I use them as flooring. So, it’s essential to understand the craft we’re working with. I make sure to involve the people involved throughout the process. They will see images of the project, and their names will be credited as my collaborators.”
*The Saudi Pavilion is commissioned by the Visual Arts Commission of the Ministry of Culture, under the supervision of curator Antonia Carver and assistant curator Hafsa Al-Khudairi.
