ONEIRIC SOFTNESS
Dubaï November 2024
In her tender and soothing works, Dubai-based artist ZEINAB SALEH draws from everyday spaces to create delicately abstract paintings and drawings. Using the objects and elements from her surroundings – praying mats passed down for generations, celebratory Henna designs or stray cats encountered during her walks – the British painter constructs scenes from her daily reality. Rather than focusing on their explicit accuracy, Saleh depicts these moments with a poetic, dream-like haziness – prioritizing the emotional response that they evoke in her mind. Following the stand-out showcase at Tate Britain earlier this year, the artist celebrated the opening of her solo show The space {between} at David Zwirner’s London gallery this November. Shortly before travelling to London for the occasion, Saleh invited us to her studio to talk about her painting process, revisiting her dreams in a journal, and creating a space for fellow female creatives with her community, Muslim Sisterhood.
I first came across your work during the show at Tate Britain last summer and I was struck by the soothing feeling of domestic serenity in the paintings. Why are you drawn to these home settings? What do they signify to you?
I have my studio at home and spend a lot of time here – especially because of the extreme heat of Dubai – so I like to draw from my everyday spaces. That’s what’s most accessible to me. It’s a space that I feel comfortable in – I know that the domestic space isn’t a safe place for everyone. I keep a lot of patterned fabrics and objects of significance around me, such as the praying mats that have been passed down in my family for years. I find that these objects can tell you something about the person or their background without having them featured in the works. I guess it’s similar to fashion in a way – what you wear or what you have in your home can say a lot about you.
Also, the paintings are not necessarily depicting a singular experience. I was born in Kenya, grew up in London, and now I’m in the UAE. We live in such a globalized society and I think that what excites me is the amalgamation of different cultures that can sit so comfortably in this space.
I find it interesting that you mentioned the feeling of safety, it’s a quality that definitely transpires through a lot of your works. Is that the main emotion that you want to evoke with your practice?
I enjoy depicting the moments of softness and tenderness. Then, I also interject those feelings with elements which create a sense of unease or eeriness. For example, in the Tate show, in some works, you would see a figure of a snake popping up and feel a sense of tension. In the David Zwirner show, there’s a painting called Waiting, which depicts a crocodile that brings a certain uneasiness. You’re not sure whether it’s just restful or waiting to pounce.
Left Waiting, 2024, acrylic and coloured pencils on linen, © Zeinab Saleh, courtesy of the artist, Château Shatto and David Zwirner
Why do you find the depictions of animals a powerful tool in your work?
Animals bring up varying connotations and what I like is the ambiguity [that you feel]. I love cats in general, and being in this city, I’m around so many of them wherever I go. I really enjoy having the cats drawn in charcoal – I did that in the painting Velvet and in my new lithograph which is inspired by my painting Sovereignty of Quiet. I like the sense of movement that using this loose material can bring to the work.
The abstract nature of your paintings makes me think of dreams. Do you see them as oneiric visions?
I definitely feel the sense of haziness in some of the paintings. I think that I try to depict emotions rather than a hyper-specific point in time or a hyper-specific object. The depicted objects or moments are very specific and personal to me but they can also be applicable to anyone. Also, in dreams, you don’t really remember exactly what colour of pink somebody’s shirt was – unless it’s an extremely vivid dream, you don’t necessarily remember all the details. It’s more about how they made you feel, and I think I try to work in a similar way to evoke emotions.
Do you ever write down your dreams?
Yes, all the time! [Laughs] I have a good memory when it comes to dreams and I keep a diary. Also, I love it when my friends message me and say, “You were in my dream, this and this happened...”
Do you go back to your notes?
I do like to revisit them. I have this ritual where at the end of the year, I read them all. Some of them I remember and some of them are like, “What the hell happened there? Is that a typo?” [Laughs]
How do you achieve these very textural, hazy visions?
I usually start the process with watery washes of acrylic paint, and then, I paint with layers of translucent acrylic washes. Additionally, I remove paint in some areas to reveal colour from underneath, rather than always transposing colours on top. I also often experiment with putting fabrics and organic materials on top – it’s either old textiles that I have lying around the house or leaves that I find in my surroundings.
I want to backtrack a little bit and ask you about your beginnings as a painter. What spearheaded this instinct for you to pursue this path?
Growing up, I actually never realized that having a career as an artist was something that can happen. At the beginning of sixth form I wanted to be a psychologist; I was really interested in how people think. Then, I started to visit art galleries because I ended up changing one of my A-levels to Art and I started to see works by people of colour. I got to understand what contemporary art was and how diverse it is, as opposed to the traditional Western art canon that I had been taught before. So that was really eye-opening for me.
Was there a specific artwork or show that had this first great impact on you?
A group show that I saw in West London which included works by Ahmed Mater and Maha Malluh. I was really struck by the way that they used found objects and materials from their regions, and I think that kind of flipped a switch [in my brain] that art could be way more than what I was previously taught.
And when did Muslim Sisterhood come into play?
While I was a student at UCL, I quickly realized the kind of privileges I had by being at university and having access to all this amazing camera equipment, software and photography studios. At the same time, the UK was in a pretty dark place where there were a lot of acid attacks happening to Muslim women. The representation of Muslim women in the media was also very negative and extremist – there was a lot of talk about ISIS brides, etc. Growing up, me and my Muslim girlfriends have never felt truly represented, so we decided to start a photography series. We took pictures of our friends and places that we were raised in. Then, we started to post these images on Instagram, one thing led to another, and we got invited to work with brands like Nike. We produced and directed a Nike campaign for their Modest Swimwear range, and we got to commission an all-female, majority-Muslim team to work with us on this.
How many years has it been since the community was launched?
We started in 2017, so seven/eight years ago. In that time, we’ve seen a lot of art collectives come and go, so I’m really proud of us for being able to keep our work sustainable and continuing until today. It’s very difficult. The project is still completely self-funded and all of our events are free. We’ve done so many workshops for our community, whether it’s self-defence classes, belly dancing classes, zine making or film screenings. So the only way we’re able to continue is by taking on commercial projects. The tickets for the events are always gone in just a couple of hours, there’s a huge demand for what we do and the spaces we create. And I just wish that it was easier for self-funded community groups like us to get more help from arts funding organizations or local funding because it’s still very inaccessible to get these pots of money. But I really enjoy the process of community building. With my art practice, I have my moments of solitude, and with Muslim Sisterhood, I can collaborate with my co-founders, creatives and brands to create a more inclusive vision of the world together.
Zeinab Saleh’s exhibition The space {between} is on show at David Zwirner London until January 11, 2025. Her limited-edition lithograph works are also available now at David Zwirner.
Left Three oceans away, 2024, acrylic on linen, © Zeinab Saleh, courtesy of the artist, Château Shatto and David Zwirner
Right Glare, 2024, acrylic on linen, © Zeinab Saleh, courtesy of the artist, Château Shatto and David Zwirner
Interview by Martin Onufrowicz
Studio pictures and first portrait by Zaineb Abelque
Second portrait by Bernice Mulenga