rt, in a sense, has replaced religion, particularly in the Western world. Instead of attending church on a Sunday morning, families now visit art museums in their Sunday best. Art biennales and triennials can also be compared to religious congregations, where people and communities from different regions, languages, and countries gather to pay homage to a creator or curator and their contributions. In these annual or biennial cultural events, individuals and groups from diverse backgrounds, customs and social classes come together under the emblem of art.

Makkah is a holy city for Muslims, who travel from near and far – by foot, road and air – each year for Hajj. Differences in ethnicity, language, background and profession are set aside in the act of worshipping Allah. Jeddah, an ancient city and the closest major town to Makkah, is currently hosting the 2nd Edition of the Islamic Arts Biennale (January 26–May 26). The biennale consists of two main zones featuring sacred objects and examples of Islamic contributions to knowledge. Additionally, it includes Al-Muqtani (Homage), a space dedicated to two major collections of Islamic art, and Al-Midhalla (The Canopy), which showcases contemporary work.

The third zone of the Biennale, Al-Muqtani, curated by Dr Amin Jaffer, explores the intersection of faith and function through beauty. As its name suggests, it is a tribute to the Al Thani Collection and the Furusiyya Art Foundation, featuring works collected by Sheikh Hammad bin Abdullah Al Thani (a member of the Qatari royal family) and Rifaat Medhat Sheik El Ard (a Saudi businessman). The collection includes a diverse array of objects – swords, daggers, war masks, armour, jewellery, metalware, porcelain, containers, carpets, manuscripts, miniature paintings, coins, metallic birds and articles crafted from precious stones.

Imaginatively and exquisitely curated by Dr Jaffer, the works of prominent patrons of Islamic art are brought together in a single space, creating thematic and visual links between images, techniques and function. As visitors walk through the thoughtfully arranged display units, they come to realise that, for centuries, humans have believed in their intrinsic relationship with other creatures and elements of nature. Everything was considered alive – just like humankind – so there was no contradiction in a piece of nephrite jade morphing into a ram’s head, a bronze water jug taking the shape of a peacock or a wide metal plate symbolising a scoop of river water, with swirling fish inlaid in its surface, reminiscent of floral patterns on a 16th-Century Iznik dish. These objects stand as material testaments of a past where nature and its elements coexisted in harmony and balance.

It was only in the modern era that humanity created a stark division between the living and non-living, between human and sub-human, and between zoology, botany and geology – despite knowing that human survival depends on consuming nuts, fruits, vegetables and meat, and that, in death, the body eventually transforms into fertiliser or becomes part of the soil and fossils.

The fourth section of the Biennale, Al-Midhallah (The Canopy), curated by Mohannad Shono, explores the concept and construction of the garden across time and space, in both Islamic societies and other cultures.

Located in the Western Hajj Terminal, a gateway where Muslim pilgrims from across the world arrive, the exhibition features 20 commissioned works by contemporary artists, arranged in the layout of a Charbagh (four-part garden). “The arrangement of dividing a garden into four quadrants originated in the 5th Century BCE in the Old Persian Empire. It was subsequently adopted by the Arabs after the 8th Century CE.” This design continued to flourish across the Islamic world, influencing landscapes in North Africa, Iberia, Central Asia and South Asia.

“Paradise is envisioned as a garden in Muslim thought. Quran gives a fairly detailed description of it.” For Muslims, the garden was an earthly symbol of Paradise, its name derived from the Old Persian word pardez. Over time, when gardens became the preferred settings for tombs, they evolved into metaphors for the celestial gardens where the faithful would reside eternally.

It is important to note that the Arabic term for garden, Riyadh, is etymologically linked to mathematics and exercise, revealing that Muslim gardens were not merely spaces of colour, fragrance and beauty but also the result of precise calculation, measurement and planning.

As Al-Midhallah is structured into four sections, the first quadrant, Gateways & Pathways, represents the exploration of physical space and self-discovery. Among the featured works, Bilal Allaf’s 24-hour filmed performance, displayed on a large screen, is particularly striking. The footage captures him walking across a barren landscape, evoking a sense of haunting aimlessness and a Kafkaesque atmosphere. However, his journey is an artistic attempt to revive the story of Hagar, Abraham’s wife, who searched desperately for water in the desert.

The second quadrant, Understanding & Knowledge, explores the botanical and medicinal properties of plants, the wisdom of the non-human world and ecological concerns. The participating artists engage with themes of memory, family and environmental issues in their installations. For instance, Tamara Kolo’s work, with its distinctive shape and materials, recalls the animal-skin flasks once used for storing and distributing water before the advent of plastic and resin.

The concept of ecology is inseparable from the pursuit of the purest garden – paradise. With the rise of industrial waste, deforestation, shrinking agricultural land, increasing numbers of endangered species and the imbalance of nature’s order, humanity appears to be heading towards a second exile – one that follows Adam’s fall from the Garden.

This inevitable dispossession of humanity from its current dwelling – the Earth – follows the temptation of capitalism’s serpent, driving us further from balance with the natural world. The artists featured in the third and fourth quadrants, Contemplation & Rejuvenation and Congregation & Community, explore the possibilities – and improbabilities – of living in a perfect, peaceful and sustainable environment.

Imran Qureshi, borrowing patterns and palettes from Mughal miniature painting, has created an interactive and visually immersive space, weaving vibrant strips to evoke the water sources that inspired the Charbagh garden design. Other artists have approached the relationship between nature and human intervention through multi-layered perspectives.

For instance, Takashi Kuribayashi, in his work Barrels, highlights the paradoxical yet inextricable link between natural and industrial elements. His installation features an elevated platform of oil barrels covered with mirrors, reflecting the trees and sky above. The piece reaffirms the cyclical transformation of vegetation into oil, extracted from the depths of the Earth. However, it also critiques the way processing and industrialisation – rather than the substances themselves – have turned natural resources into harmful agents of environmental degradation.

Despite the prevailing destruction, there is still harmony between humans and their surroundings. Asim Waqif reclaims the idea of a lost paradise by constructing a garden of sustainable materials, including bamboo, palm fronds, reed weaving, natural fibre ropes and electronic audio equipment. Visitors are invited to interact with the structure, striking different segments to produce sounds that are amplified by an electronic system. Through the traditional basketry techniques of South Asia, his piece Min Rukam presents a dystopian vision of the future, raising questions about our environmental trajectory.

Not far from Waqif’s installation is Iqra Tanveer and Ehsan-ul Haq’s Sleepers of the Cave, a direct reference to Surah Al-Kahf (18:9–26) of the Quran. This parable tells the story of a group of men and their dog who withdrew into a cave and fell into a deep sleep. Upon waking, they discovered that an indeterminate length of time – perhaps a hundred years – had passed, rendering their coins obsolete and the world around them unfamiliar.

This allegory resonates deeply with Jorge Luis Borges’ short story The Secret Miracle and, more crucially, with our present ecological reality. If meaningful action is not taken to restore balance to the ecosystem, we may soon wake up in an unfamiliar, unrecognisable world – one we no longer belong to.

Tanveer and Haq’s work, comprising a water installation and sculptural pieces, forewarns of the bleak future that awaits if we remain in a slumber of ignorance. It envisions an unbelievable reality where ocean waves are trapped inside a glass box within a wall, eerily reminiscent of mineral water sold in plastic bottles, while fossilised forms of strange, otherworldly creatures inhabit deserted landscapes.

Walking among these ruinous species, one is transported into a post-apocalyptic age, a world where nature has turned unrecognisable. It evokes the haunting question posed by Amitav Ghosh in The Great Derangement:

“When we reach for an innocent-looking vine and find it to be a worm or a snake? When a harmlessly drifting log turns out to be a crocodile?”

(Concluded)

The writer is a visual artist, an art critic, a curator and a professor at the School of Visual Arts and Design, Beaconhouse National University, Lahore. He can be contacted on quddusmirza@gmail.com.