In ‘Restless Circle’, Emirati artist Afra Al Dhaheri transforms the act of repetition into a language of reflection. Now on view at the Sharjah Art Foundation, her first institutional exhibition in the UAE brings together over a decade of work that meditates on endurance, care, and the unseen labour embedded in everyday gestures. Working with materials such as rope, cement, fabric, and hair, Al Dhaheri draws from the sensory textures of her environment — the architecture, rhythms, and residue of a rapidly changing Gulf landscape. The exhibition is anchored by two new commissions that explore the tension between movement and stillness, inviting viewers into a space where time loops, bends, and unfolds at a slower pace. Through her material and conceptual rigour, Al Dhaheri reveals the quiet poetics of persistence and the beauty of what remains unfinished.
Suzette Bell-Roberts: ‘Restless Circle’ marks your first institutional exhibition in the UAE. How did it feel to see your practice gathered and contextualised in this way?
Afra Al Dhaheri: I feel fortunate — this is my first institutional show here, and it’s been an incredible experience. Working with the curator to bring together so many of my works, some of which I hadn’t seen in years, felt almost like revisiting old conversations with myself. Over the years, people have gravitated towards my larger installations — the fibre and textile works — so the exhibition focuses on my material explorations. This language has evolved through repetition and tension.
Seeing those pieces together for the first time was emotional. Many had long been in collections, so assembling them was like re-encountering fragments of myself. The process revealed vulnerabilities — the moments of doubt and questioning that are part of my making — but also a continuity I hadn’t recognised before.
The exhibition highlights this “material language” you’ve built — rope, cement, fabric, and other raw elements. How did this vocabulary evolve?
My background is in painting; I did my MFA in it, and I still paint occasionally. But over time, I became more interested in sculpture and installation — in materials I could find around me. I often shop in hardware stores in Abu Dhabi, and those materials have become part of my everyday vocabulary: cement, plaster, wood, rope, fabric, and ceramics.
Each carries its own history. Cotton rope, for example, came into my practice when I was searching for a substitute for hair. I had been using my own hair in small drawings — collected strands that I wove into intimate compositions. But I wanted to scale that up, to talk about labour and care on a more physical level. Rope allowed me to do that — to hold those same ideas but express them through endurance and gesture.