VENICE: The Sultanate of Oman Pavilion at the 61st International Art Exhibition of La Biennale di Venezia, which ends on Nov. 22, is asking visitors to slow down and engage with unexpected materials — and fellow guests.
“We are bringing sand from a desert in Oman to Venice,” artist and curator Haitham Al-Busafi told Arab News recently. “It is important that the floor is not a symbolic image of the desert, but a real material presence.”
And that “real” space, called “Zinah,” sets it apart from the numerous other pavilions at Arsenale Artiglierie.
Upon entering the space, the silver canopy overhead begins to respond to footsteps, as stealthily placed laser sensors capture motion. (Supplied)
Merging his background in architecture with his love of virtual production, immersive technology and deep-rooted Omani heritage, Al-Busafi found a way to include it all in his new installation.
Upon entering the space, the silver canopy overhead begins to respond to footsteps, as stealthily placed laser sensors capture motion.
That data is processed in real time through a network of computers and sent to motors concealed within the ceiling, which then activate different parts of the suspended metal canopy.
This produces personalized “shimmering sounds” that fill the space.
“What matters to me is that the technology remains invisible. The visitor should not feel that they are operating a machine. They should feel that the space is responsive to them, that their presence has consequence, and that each step is answered by sound, motion, and light,” he said.
Essentially, it creates a unique temporary composition; the sand records the passage of bodies.
The artwork is architectural, sonic, kinetic, and participatory. And exactly what the biennale needs. (Supplied)
“This is a form of memory that is both physical and digital,” he said.
Commissioned by the Ministry of Culture, Sports and Youth, the space reimagines the Omani tradition of silver horse adornment as a participatory environment of soft sand, suspended metal and collective sound.
“What has been most enjoyable has been the challenge of bringing very simple, elemental materials into a highly immersive environment. The work is built from sand, metal, sound, light, shadow, movement, and the presence of the visitor, but the ambition was never to make those components feel separate,” he added.
“I wanted deeper, more resonant tones toward the center of the installation and a lighter, shimmering quality toward the periphery,” he said. “The metal is not only a sculptural material, it is also an acoustic one. Every thickness, cut, and suspended form contributes to the soundscape.”
The artwork is architectural, sonic, kinetic, and participatory. And exactly what the biennale needs.
“It is a privilege to represent Oman at this level. Beyond the exhibition itself, biennales create conversations. Those encounters expand the mind. We learn about others, and others learn about us,” he said.
He credits the late Koyo Kouoh, the curator of this biennale, for selecting the theme “In Minor Keys” before her untimely death.
The work is designed to shift the visitor into a slower gear. (Supplied)
“The theme gave language to something I was already searching for: an art that does not need to shout in order to be powerful,” he said.
“‘Zinah’ is designed to shift the visitor into a slower gear. In that slowed state, the visitor can begin to listen to the gentle resonances of the suspended metal canopy and feel how the space responds to their movement.”
For him, the most exciting part is the act of reduction and restraint — by concealing the mechanics, the core experience heightens. He hopes visitors will remember the fleeting feeling that reverberates.
“The work begins with a horse in the Omani desert — but I hope it opens toward a much larger question of how we recognize one another,” he said.
