NASO interviews: Dalal AlObaidi
On Art, Identity & Becoming
“There’s something beautiful in looking back,” she says. “But I don’t want to get stuck in nostalgia. I want to turn memory into something active—something alive.”
On Initial Steps & Finding Art:
"There’s no comparison," says Dalal Al Obaidi, reflecting on the non-linear path that led to her full commitment to artistic practice. “It was meant to be that way for my art to be complete.”
At just her first public interview, the Kuwaiti artist speaks with a clarity of voice and a poetic sensibility that resonates deeply with the visual language of her work. Her first solo exhibition at Sultan Gallery in Kuwait, featuring drawings born out of the artist's morning commutes and her reflections on suburban life in Ahmadi City, marked a moment of emergence—both professionally and personally. “That body of work was one of the first times I felt like my art had meaning. It was based on my daily life. It was honest,” she explains.
But for Dalal, the road to this moment was far from straightforward.
Despite her early passion for art, Al Obaidi did not pursue it formally until later in life. “When I graduated high school, I really wanted to study art. But I didn’t have the support,” she recalls. “So I studied business instead. I never thought of it as giving up—I just wasn’t ready to fight for what I wanted at that point.”
What followed was a quiet insistence on drawing, even as she followed the expected path. “I kept going. Drawing was a shelter for me, a way to stay connected to myself.” Eventually, her curiosity led her to begin her master’s at Central Saint Martins. “If I’d studied art straight away, I wouldn’t have had the same perspective. I needed time to know who I was.”
That sense of introspection now defines her practice. A significant portion of her recent work explores memory, particularly the way it intersects with place and identity. “I’m interested in in-between spaces—the emotional weight of transitions. Kuwait and London, past and present, dream and reality.”
On Nostalgia as a Theme:
Nostalgia runs like an undercurrent in Al Obaidi’s work—not in a romanticized way, but as a form of inquiry. “I reflect a lot on my teenage years,” she says. “One of my drawings, Last Polaroid, is about skipping school, spending time with friends. We weren’t doing anything serious—but those moments now carry so much weight.”
Her process begins with memory, but rarely ends there. She describes her sketchbooks as repositories for “small talk and half-formed thoughts.” A line from a song, a TikTok clip, even something overheard in a conversation—these fragments feed a visual language that’s both personal and poetic.
“I’m constantly writing things down. Some of them never leave the sketchbook, but others evolve into full pieces,” she explains. “I find myself drawn to recurring symbols that reflect a space in-between—TVs, underground stations, living rooms. They hold emotion for me.”
On Inspiration:
In her current work, Al Obaidi is developing a narrative vocabulary rooted in collective experience. One motif she returns to is the television—a recurring prop she uses to explore themes of broadcast emotion and cultural memory. “I’m interested in the way a TV can transport you. It becomes a screen for projecting future memories.”
This conceptual layering is especially evident in Heartbreak Television (2024), where a female news anchor narrates the emotional undertones of a fractured domestic scene. “The painting is about loss—love, relationships, even identity,” she says. “I wanted the narrator to feel like a symbolic figure, maybe even a part of myself.”
Her upcoming series draws inspiration from Kuwaiti Theatre. Dream Exchange is influenced by Bye Bye London, a cult Kuwaiti play known for its comedic take on the Gulf’s infatuation with the West. “I’m not interested in recreating the play,” she clarifies. “But I love the idea of longing—for elsewhere, for a different version of yourself. I see the male lead in the play as someone who carries all that emotional baggage.”
On Practice:
Al Obaidi’s palette—muted reds, purples, greys—emerged by accident. “I used to take a lot of Polaroids with a camera that had a red lens,” she says. “The tones just stuck with me. When I lost the camera, I started painting in the colors I remembered.”
It’s a telling detail—an act of preservation through transformation. And it reflects a broader ethos in her work: that art is less about arriving somewhere and more about staying in motion.
“I’m someone who loves change,” she says with a smile. “Even in my current process—I never sketch before painting. I go straight in. If I overthink it, the emotion gets lost.”
As she moves deeper into her studies and prepares for future exhibitions, Al Obaidi remains grounded in the same impulse that started it all: the need to draw what’s felt, not just what’s seen.
“There’s something beautiful in looking back,” she says. “But I don’t want to get stuck in nostalgia. I want to turn memory into something active—something alive.”
On Looking Forward:
With her practice evolving and her critical voice sharpening, Al Obaidi is poised for a significant trajectory. Yet she remains grounded in the same curiosity that first brought her to the page. “I’m just someone who loves change,” she says, smiling. “I hope my work continues to grow with me.”
What remains constant is her belief in the power of storytelling—in the quiet, the liminal, the space between.
“There’s something deeply personal in every piece,” she says. “Even when I’m inventing characters, I’m still narrating the same emotional truth.”
And perhaps that is what makes Dalal Al Obaidi’s work so arresting: it doesn’t demand your attention—it earns it, gently, with grace.