The theme of the 16th Sharjah Biennial, the longest-running contemporary art biennial in the Gulf region, was an open-ended proposition: to carry. To its all-female curatorial team, it has manifold interpretations: to carry a home, to carry a history, to carry rupture, to carry resistance.
During the opening speeches earlier this month, a spontaneous Māori chant offered the perfect introduction to this vast exhibition, which was curated by Alia Swastika, Amal Khalaf, Megan Tamati-Quennell, Natasha Ginwala, and Zeynep Öz, and features 200 artists participating with a total of 650 works, including over 200 new commissions.
The show, ambitious in scale, is displayed at 17 venues alongside a program of performances, music, and films. Spread in the emirate of Sharjah, including sites in Sharjah City, Al Hamriyah, Al Dhaid, and Kalba, the selection of sites moves beyond white-cube spaces and museums, occupying historic buildings, schools, former markets, and even the desert.
Under the direction of Hoor Al Qasimi, daughter of Sheikh Sultan bin Muhammad Al-Qasimi, and ruler of Sharjah since 2003, the biennial’s ambition lies not only in its scale but also in its active reclamation of discussions around the Global South—discussions that have historically been led by Western institutions.
This edition of the Sharjah Biennial included a diverse artist list, with many emerging talents from regions across Asia, Africa, and Oceania, as well as a strong representation of First Nations and Indigenous art. While familiar artists like Arthur Jafa are also present, there are also many community-driven projects, such as the Thai group Womanifesto.
Here are five artists whose works you need to know.
Michael Parekōwhai
Michael Parekōwhai, He Kōrero Pūrākau mo te Awanui o Te Motu: Story of a New Zealand river, 2011. Photo: Cathy Fan
It’s hard not to be struck by Michael Parekōwhai’s work, which occupies an entire gallery space in Al Mureijah Square of Sharjah City. A major figure in New Zealand’s art scene for over 30 years, he remains relatively low-key and avoids the media spotlight. Often described as a “Duchampian” artist, he plays with art history, cultural identity, and personal narratives.
Sun shines through the skylight, casting a stream on a Steinway piano painted in a bold red. Stepping closer, you notice finely carved details—it’s both a sculpture and a playable instrument. A male dancer joins in as people gather, followed by a tenor singer filling the room with his voice. Outside, there’s a desert city; inside, European music and traditional performance unfold. The piano’s surface features whakairo, a form of Māori carving, which connect to the artist’s family history and to the history of the piano itself. Ivory, ebony, shell, and pearl shimmer in the carvings of other elements on view. A (shining cuckoo) clock, jewelry worn by the performers, and signal to these materials.
This work was first shown at the 2011 Venice Biennale, a project that took Parekōwhai ten years to complete. It draws from multiple inspirations, but its title, He Korero Purakau mo te Awanui o Te Motu: Story of a New Zealand River, comes from a 1920s New Zealand novel, which in turn inspired Jane Campion’s 1993 film The Piano.
John Clang
John Clang, . Image courtesy of the artist. Photo: Lavender Chang
Reading by an Artist might be the most enchanting experience I’ve had at a major art event. The presentation by Singaporean artist John Clang was understated—I was led by a fellow journalist to a secluded courtyard where the 52-year-old artist sat hidden behind a large hanging cloth, facing a single participant.
Clang, who lives between New York and Singapore, is known primarily as a photographer and started this project in 2023. This marks his first biennial appearance, where instead of taking portraits through lenses, he “reads” people using , an ancient Chinese fortune-telling method based on principles. The artist views human destiny as an epic codex not just to be perused, but to be interpreted and translated into tangible action to empower one’s life.
Each session lasts an hour, during which he calculates a (destiny chart), treating it as a unique metaphysical portrait. The large hanging cloth did not display an individual, but rather that of the Sharjah Biennial itself. A waiting list quickly grew, with many arranging private readings afterward. Becoming a skilled reader takes years of study (and sometimes a decade) due to its intricate system of knowledge and practice. In another room, Clang shared reflections from past sitters.
Cécile B. Evans
Cécile B. Evans, , 2024. Image courtesy of the artist
Cécile B. Evans explores the idea that language, memory, and emotion are not abstract, but are intricately connected to the physical world and particularly to ecological crises and technological storage. She presents a strikingly dystopian narrative in her latest work.
Upon entering the darkened exhibition space, visitors encounter a six-piece sculptural installation, immediately recognizable as a miniature model of the United Nations General Assembly Hall. However, beneath this sleek, orderly structure lies a compressed world of ruins—a storage space for the remnants of New York City. On closer inspection, fragments of the Statue of Liberty, bank signs, traces of Wall Street’s bull, and pieces of infrastructure like railways, all hint at the collapse of authoritative institutions. This space is renamed GAMMA (Global Archive of Memory Management and Archaeology). Another piece in the installation is a quilt made from shredded documents, including global trend forecasts from the CIA dating back to 1997.
Two video works, RECEPTION! and MEMORY!, further expand the narrative. The former debuted as a live installation at Paris Fashion Week for Miu Miu, while the latter was commissioned by the Sharjah Art Foundation. The story revolves around an ecological crisis that causes the mass disappearance of personal data. The protagonist, played by French actress Guslagie Malanda, is Reception—the last surviving translator at a data center responsible for transcribing and recovering memories. During a flood that engulfs the center, she transcribes others’ memories into English. However, when Reception translates a woman’s intimate memory, part of her own memory slips away. MEMORY follows the unraveling of this lost memory.
Kaloki Nyamai
Kaloki Nyamai’s assemblage paintings at Sharjah Biennial. Photo: Cathy Fan
Kenya-based artist Kaloki Nyamai’s assemblage paintings offer a powerful exploration of Akamba’s cultural heritage. These large canvases—each over 2.5 meters wide—hang and spill onto the floor, creating a striking visual and tactile experience throughout the exhibition. With a complex mix of visual and physical depth, the works make a powerful visual impact.
Nyamai was also one of the four artists representing Kenya at the 59th Venice Biennale in 2022. In Sharjah, the artist takes painting to new heights, layering newspapers, incorporating found documents, and stitching in thick, heavy seams. Abstract figures slowly emerge from the layers of acrylic paint, sisal ropes, photo transfers, and charred rubber threads, almost like memories coming in and out of focus. Many of the figures and moments are inspired by news imagery. A Nairobi native, Nyamai views his work as a continuation of the storytelling traditions passed down through generations. Nyamai challenges the oversimplified narratives around Kenya’s history and identity, offering a richer alternative. He compares the act of stitching to symbolically bringing together a community that has been torn apart by violence. The paintings on display are also named after Nyamai’s ancestral language, Kikamba.
Suzanne Lacy
Suzanne Lacy, , 2015-2017. Image courtesy of the artist
If I had to pick just one piece at this year’s Sharjah Biennial that represents the world we live in today, it would be this one. American artist Suzanne Lacy, also a social activist, is known for coining the term “new genre public art.” Most of her work focuses on social and urban issues, using community conversations to express important ideas.
At the Biennale, Lacy presented a deeply moving piece. Her two-screen film The Circle and the Square is based on a project that came together during a three-day event in September 2016. Shape Note singers from England performed alongside a local Sufi group in an old mill. Hundreds of voices filled the space, blending Shape Note singing with Dhikr, an Islamic chanting practice. The event was shaped by months of community discussions and concluded with a dinner for 500 local residents.
The three-year project addressed racism, labor, and global trade. It focused on the decline of the textile industry in Pendle, Northwest England, and its impact on both South Asian and white mill workers. The project is also presented with interviews, a timeline, photographs, and other documents.
Source: Exhibition - news.artnet.com