From the Desert Dunes to the Motor Row District: FLXST Contemporary Proudly Introduces Latifa Alajlan to the Art World
In Arabic, “Latifa or Lateefa” is a feminine Arabic (لٓطِيفٓة) given name, which means “gentle” or “pleasant.” In meeting Latifa Alajlan, it is clear that she is more than her name suggests. Latifa is an icon in the making, who will make her mark on the art world as someone authentic and bold. Her work provokes our understanding of spirituality, sensuality, and order. The artist’s words and work are radical and critical of the political and social spaces in which she has grown up around and within. This empowered artistic practice continues into the present. Becoming an artist was never a choice for Latifa because it is her calling, as you will read.
Below is an edited interview with Latifa Alajlan and Michael Rangel, gallery manager at FLXST Contemporary. Michael sat down with Latifa to discuss her recent work in the group show, Against Impossibility. The show exhibited five School of the Art Institute of Chicago (SAIC) students with work created to respond to both the racial uprisings and COVID pandemic impacting our world. The show featured artists like Latifa, whose work grappled with the existential question of “why am I an artist, right here and right now?” The group show ran from February 13 to March 28, 2021.
Michael Rangel: Hi Latifa! Thank you for your time in responding to these questions. We are so lucky and proud to represent your work in the gallery and discuss your work with you. Could you start by telling us a bit about your background, your chosen medium, and what made you become an artist?
Latifa Alajlan: I genuinely appreciate FLXST for having me in their group exhibition. Thank you and Jan [gallery director] for giving me the chance to showcase my art in the “Against Impossibility” group exhibition. Growing up in Kuwait and being a Kuwaiti artist was not something that society expected or even welcomed, especially if your work is deemed controversial.
I thank my parents for playing an essential role in helping me cultivate my artistic abilities. When I was four years old, I did my first drawing on a post-it in Marbella, Spain, right by the port. I was crying, and, to calm me down, my mother pulled out a post-it note and a pen. Both of my parents saw the drawing, and my mother immediately looked at my dad and told him, “She will definitely become an artist.” I grew up surrounded by art all the time. My mother restores art as a hobby. I used to see her all the time fixing mini sculptures and various other paintings. While she did not go to art school, she’s an excellent restorer. Watching her paint and become crafty inspired me to paint with oils and acrylics, experimenting with different mediums that could build textural surfaces. My father, an art collector, would take us to art museums in Europe and forced my siblings and me to write about an artwork that we liked. I remember telling him that I was not a fan of the Mona Lisa, and he was so furious and forced me to go to the Louvre to appreciate and write about it (little did he know that art is subjective). Going to museums and looking at artists that revolutionized the art world excited me to become an artist.
Renowned Kuwaiti artist Shurooq Amin made me realize how much I wanted to change the conservative art scene in Kuwait. It’s wonderful that Kuwaiti artists can paint photo-realistic images of a desert landscape, but I believe art can be something beyond that. I look to Louis Burgious, Kiki Smith, Nancy Spero, and Julie Mehretu, and I think, “damn … I want to be like them one day!”
Specifically, could you tell us a bit about your practice and what draws you to making art? What has influenced your pieces and the materials you use?
I have always wanted to experiment with a lot of materials other than paint. As my professor, Anne Harris once said, “anyone can paint.” I wanted to use standard materials related to the body and architecture of buildings back home in Kuwait. By using my body as a paintbrush, there is a feeling of intimacy with the canvas. I can manipulate the earthy materials that allow me to create visceral strokes and textures that highlight the significance of mosques and historical sites that symbolize the formidable patriarchy imposed by male religious scholars in Kuwait. I feel each of my paintings could be a tile projecting a woman’s body, and what interests me about tiles is that it allows me to excavate the past to understand the future. The Islamic imprints also symbolize the architectural buildings back home. Many of these structures have withstood the test of time. They are weathering and will one day collapse, much like everything in this world. These buildings are rigid and built for a specified purpose, symbolic of how women are expected to act and be in society.
What ways have you learned to be both figurative and literal in your representation of Kuwaiti culture and women in your work? How do you plan to develop this more?
My work contains figurative aspects, but I also think of my work as abstract. The Islamic imprints made with the laser cutting machine represent my body: a young female Arab Muslim artist. It projects what women go through in a literal sense but also in abstract form. Upon first glance, viewers will understand my background. With further inspection, viewers, I hope, will raise their concerns regarding the ugly truth behind religion and religious scholars in the Middle East. The act of discovery above all is my main objective, which will lead to new art that will be more figurative, by definition.
In both of your pieces, Cloudwalker and Hoor Al-Ayn exhibited in Against Impossibility many of our guests were struck by their dimensions, size, texture, and color palette. What about these pieces are significant to you?
Both paintings are scaled to my size and height, representing my body and the irony of being Arab and a woman in Kuwait. The colors are related to the Middle Eastern atmosphere, such as heat versus cold and wet versus dry. The textures of my paintings aim to invoke the intimacy of nature and taking ownership of one’s own body. Cloudwalker’s palette is more angelic than Hoor Al-Ayn. Cloudwalker is more about not complying with social norms back home, trying to flee and find freedom. However, those who go against social norms in Kuwait are seen in a less angelic sense and lens (oh, the irony!). Cloudwalker encourages people living in a censored society to find their voice and take action for freedom. Hoor Al-Ayn’s rough sandy texture contradicts the soft strokes that symbolize a woman’s body yet creates a beautiful dichotomy between protest and empowerment. These paintings act as a testimony of what my body and women actively go through, even if I created them using abstract forms. Through my paintings, I hope to pave the way for younger generations to challenge traditional and outdated ideologies.
Through your work and cultural background, what do you want people to take away from viewing your art in social spaces? Where do you want your work presented?
The viewer needs to understand and immerse themselves into my life back home in Kuwait while looking at the paintings. I want my audience to recognize Islamic patterns and the visceral paint connected to women’s bodies. I want them to feel the warmth of the heat emitted by the matte finish while seeing the work as containing deconstructed abstract figures.
My artwork needs to be in different places worldwide, influencing other people of various cultural backgrounds by understanding my art and creating their relationships to the work. As a young female Arab Muslim artist, it’s beautiful to see people of color being represented in galleries worldwide and sharing their experiences with the viewer. Essentially, I want my artwork to be viewed by everyone regardless of social status because I firmly believe that art should be accessible to all.
When we first reached out to you to be a part of this group show, we were under the impression that you were in a graduate program and were towards the end of defining your craft. Now knowing you are finishing your undergrad degree and moving into a graduate program, how has the experience been for you to be in conversation with graduate students and art professionals before you begin the next steps in your artistic journey?
Being in this show has been an invaluable experience for me. I am forever grateful because it allowed me to challenge myself and understand the art community in Chicago. This opportunity made me interact with different artists and their artistic backgrounds. Having rich conversations with graduate students made me realize how hungry I am to pursue an MFA degree where I will be put in a rigorous position by artists and critics. This journey I am embarking on will also challenge other artists in the program and help us blossom into our best selves.
And lastly, how has the pandemic affected you and your art practice? What might we expect to see from you in 2021 and beyond, with I hope, the pandemic behind us?
I believe the pandemic cornered me in a sense because that it forced me to experiment more with other mediums and change my entire practice. For example, I have always seen myself as a traditional artist by strictly using paint. However, the pandemic prompted me to use a laser cutter machine to complete my artwork, a method I have never learned or practiced. The mediums that I have been using are not “painting materials,” but they act like paint. It made me realize that anything can replace paint or can act like paint. I have been thinking of expanding more with figurative work to see how I can challenge myself.
As for what you might expect from me in 2021, in all honesty, I have yet to develop a concrete plan that will further develop my artistic abilities. The pandemic has taught us that the future is unpredictable. However, currently, I am familiarizing myself with Francis Bacon, Christina Quarles, and Julie Mehretu. I can say that my future art pieces will draw comparisons from these three renowned artists. Rest assured, you will see me again soon.
LATIFA ALAJLAN is a Kuwaiti visual artist currently studying Fine Arts at the School of The Art Institute of Chicago. Most of her work is inspired by her native culture, surroundings, and reality; aiming to facilitate a conversation between the conservative and the liberal with a focus on women empowerment. Latifa has a keen interest in the developments of artistic practices taking place in Kuwait and hopes to engage and contribute to its community. She will be attending the School of the Art Institute of Chicago for her MFA starting in Fall 2021.
FLXST Contemporary is a contemporary fine arts and photography gallery and an arts incubator in Chicago. It showcases highly evocative and uncompromising artwork by emerging and mid-career artists, and it supports the creation and exhibition of new artwork across visual mediums. FLXST Contemporary works with and represents mainly diasporic, immigrant artists, LGBTQ-identified artists, and artists of color based in Chicago and in other parts of the country.
AGAINST IMPOSSIBILITY featured SAIC students Wei Gao, Ajmal “Mas Man” Millar, Siena Smith, Latifa Alajlan, and Alexis de Chaunac. The exhibition opened on February 13 and ended on March 28, 2021.
Please email info@flxst.co for inquiries about Latifa Alajlan’s artwork.
