ISLAMIC ARTS BIENNALE 1

Ancestral Threads: Reviving Dhofari Craft at the Islamic Arts Biennale

What does it mean to introduce Dhofar to Saudi Arabia?

That was the question I carried with me—one that lingered while I wandered the mountains and coast of Dhofar, learning not from books, but from the hands and hearts of those who live the story of Dhofar daily.

When the Islamic Arts Biennale invited me to be one of their knowledge providers for their public program, I knew my response had to carry more than words—it had to carry weight, craft, and lineage.

I curated two workshops that held the essence of Dhofar: its people, its history, and my own journey with both.

Cultural preservation is at the heart of Rahina—my creative practice rooted in ancestral memory. This was an opportunity to revive an extinct craft once held in the hands of Dhofari women.

Through a serendipitous encounter, I met Mabrooka, a middle aged woman fresh out of a six-week silversmithing course sponsored by Riyada, Oman’s SME authority. She had no formal workshop—just a quiet corner in her home, some basic tools, and a lot of heart.

Together, we co-designed a series of silver charms inspired by ancient Dhofari jewellery—small pieces with big stories. She was hesitant, unsure she was ready for a commercial project. But I saw potential. So I decided to invest in her journey—through workshops, mentorship, and the hope of building a future master silversmith.

The workshop at the Biennale was called "Threads of Identity: Crafting Dhofari Stories in Silver and Stone." Participants created their own modern take on the Murriya, a traditional Dhofari necklace, using silver charms made by Mabrooka and gemstones sourced from my trusty supplier in Jaipur. I guided them through assembling, closing, and personalizing each piece.

And let me tell you—the Jeddah girls did not come to play. Each necklace was a reflection of bold creativity. Every piece—singular, stunning, soulful.

The Biennale team? Dream collaborators. Passionate, generous, and full of vision. Special thanks to Dalia Akki, who believed in this workshop from the start—and to Mashael, Maryam, Eman, Ahmed, Abeer, Khyria, Soad, the drivers, and every soul who made this moment happen.

Two years ago, I stood inside the British Museum, exhibiting alongside legends of Omani silverwork—Tuful Bamkhalef (past), Mahfooda Al Balushi (present), and me (future). I felt like an imposter.

But after this workshop? I get it now.

Cultural preservation isn't just about memory. It's about transmission.

Hands-on. Heart-forward. Alive.

Saudi gave me clarity. It sharpened my purpose. The fog is lifting—and the path ahead is finally visible.

Next stop: Muscat.

This workshop is coming home.

Stay tuned for the announcement and bookings.

Thank you to everyone who believed in me before I believed in myself. This is only part one.