On Palm Fronds and Cinema: An Interview with Mohammad Alfaraj
Mohammad Alfaraj was born and raised in Al Hassa, a remote town in Saudi Arabia that has nurtured his interest in nature and ecology and led him to a multidimensional practice, from video, photography, installations and writing, through which he presents a world on the verge of collapse. A socio-environment activist at heart, his short documentary Lost, 2015 (which was awarded first place in the student category at the Saudi Film Festival), captures the latent state of the notion of temporality for the stateless Arabs living as refugees in their place of birth, and the dehumanizing effect this plays. This “un-homely" context portrays the poisonous beauty of nature when lived as a nemesis under political paralysis.
The core of his practice is his exploration of the relationship between forms and concepts, as a combination of a variety of elements, is visible through superimposed stories in his photographic/film works, regrouping and contrasting fiction and non-fiction subjects. Alfaraj's work also often (re)uses natural and other materials found in his hometown and combines them with children games and imaginative stories from people working the land, as an attempt to create states of coexistence between humans and nature, their effect on each other, the decay of their relationship, with an undertone of hope.
Alfaraj studied mechanical engineering at KFUPM. His work has been shown at the Sharjah Art Foundation; Le murate Pac, Florence (2019); Athr Gallery, Jeddah (2018); 21,39 Jeddah Arts (2017, 2019); Saudi Film Festival, Dammam (2015) and Dubai International Film Festival (2014). Mohammed worked as a programmer in both the Saudi Film Festival and the Poetry House Festival in Dammam.
Still from the short documentary, Farmer’s Ghost
Tell us about your upbringing, Al Hassa, and everything that contributed to who you are as a person and artist now.
I feel shy whenever I’m directly asked to talk about myself. I’m not faking this humbleness — I have a firm belief that I’m nothing but a group of pieces that I owe my life to. That’s why I’m indebted to the village of Al Qurayn in Al Hassa, where I grew up and learned. I’m indebted to the land and palm trees and their guard, my grandfather Abdullah, who taught me the hand is a living thing on its own. I’m indebted to the grandmothers and aunts: the trees of stories. I’m indebted to the women and working mothers who weave hope using the palm fronds. I’m indebted to the religious practices that made me fall in love with the camera when documenting them. I’m indebted to the Taliya football club that taught me running can be a form of riding the wind, the wind of life that got me to King Fahd University of Petroleum and Minerals, where I learned mechanical engineering and the words of motion, fire, water, and air and numbers and shape. It pushed me to bury my head in books and devour films. And I’m still hungry.
All of this is what I owe all my attempts in art, writing, and cinema to. I hope to film like a blind person seeing for the first time and to plant songs in others’ chests.
Untitled collage
When did you notice your interest in art, and what media did you use initially?
I fell in love with the camera early on. This only included documenting family memories and religious ceremonies in my village, though. But I vividly remember the first time I collected branches, leaves, and stones to create a shape and take a photograph of it in an attempt to copy my grandfather who collected the same things and placed them in old fabric to block and change the direction of the water in his farm. These organic materials continue to interest me now, and I still (re)use them in creating my work in addition to the act of taking pictures, still or moving.
I was also interested in reading two magazines that I used to purchase from Sahood Center in Al Rashidyah, Al-Arabi and Majid, which introduced me to many literary and cultural publications and made me love language, writing, storytelling, and most importantly, playfulness.
Installations from the Still Life and Plastic Dreams exhibit
Documentation (of nature, history, and details of the everyday) seems very relevant to your work. What is the reason behind this interest? And what is the importance of using art in documentation?
No matter how we talk about art’s role and its importance — whether it’s an act of amazement, a mirror reflecting life’s and society’s nature, or a free expression to what’s within and around us — we will always find out at the end it’s the footprint of humanity. Poetry, cinema, music, and the arts are all different ways to imitate the palm prints left to us in caves saying, “We were here.”
How did studying mechanical engineering influence your art?
It hasn’t clearly impacted my practice yet. But it gave me a scientific background, which in some way benefited me in both my career and personal life. As a way to adapt, I think I always find a way to connect what I was learning to my view of life. For example, I saw the concept of energy and heat transfer as a metaphor for emotions and their change.
However, I recently began digging into my old textbooks to learn more about ways that can assist me in creating future projects, which involve construction work and using organic materials like leaves.
