NASO interviews: Malik Thomas
On Memory, Duality, and the Art of Intimacy
"Silk connects my past in textile and fashion with my current work in painting," he explains. The fabric's translucence and fragility echo the very themes his work explores — intimacy, memory, presence, and absence. "Silk has limitations - you can't erase. Once the pigment is down, it's part of the story."
On Personal Roots
Born and raised in the UK, Malik carries a unique heritage — half Iraqi, half Scottish — which threads through every part of his artistic practice. His childhood in Kent was shaped by weekend trips to visit his grandmothers who he called Bibi the Iraqi name for grandmother in London, a woman he describes as a cultural compass. "She would take us to museums, to exhibitions at the Royal Academy or the V&A. She had this circle of friends — Iraqi, Iranian, Lebanese women — all exiles of one kind or another, and their homes were these ornate, memory-rich spaces that I absorbed like a sponge."
Malik's Iraqi lineage, especially through his maternal side, created a strong early bond with culture and storytelling. "I think my interest in culture and art history stems from being descended from people that had a transient background," he says. "My grandparents lived in Iraq until the 1950s revolution, then moved to Lebanon, and later to London." These shifts between geographies, ideologies, and identities instilled in him an early awareness of complexity — a theme that continues to inform his work today.
On Navigating Dual Identity
For Malik, growing up between two vastly different cultures was not just an identity marker — it was a lifelong challenge. "I used to think London was an Arab city," he laughs. "We'd only see Arabs when we went there. I thought the world was Amman, Beirut, or Lenden — the way my family pronounced it."
But as he grew older, the nuanced tensions of being mixed-cultured background became clearer. "It's not like being from two European countries. There's real historical weight - colonialism, cultural oppositions. You come to understand the underlying tensions between both sides." That in-between space of never being fully one or the other gave rise to both a sense of displacement and an invaluable creative lens. "I don't think my parents were prepared for what it would mean to have mixed children," he reflects. "But as confusing as it was growing up, it's such a gift now. I see the world from two vantage points."
On Drawing as Anchor
Malik's entry into art came quietly but with purpose. Encouraged by his mother, he began life drawing classes at 14 at the Royal Drawing School in London (then the Prince's Drawing School). "That was where I learned the rules of drawing that I still use today," he explains. "It wasn't traditional in a rigid sense — it was experimental, and all the tutors were practicing artists."
His early passion for both art and fashion led him to art school, where tutors quickly recognized his love for drawing and guided him toward Fashion Print. "But I struggled," he admits. "I essentially just wanted to draw and paint."
Despite his reservations, he interned for several young fashion designers in London — a scene he recalls as raw, energetic, and experimental. "They were all working out of bedrooms, dyeing their own fabrics, doing DIY fashion. That's when I first tried natural dyeing. It felt really close to being an artist."
Still, even after graduating, Malik wasn't sure art was viable. "I didn't know how anyone made a living from art. No one in my family bought art — it was all inherited." That uncertainty led him to take a job at a fashion label in Amman — a decision that would unexpectedly reroute his path.
On Amman
What began as a short-term fashion experience turned into a defining chapter in Malik's life. "I arrived thinking I'd stay for three months. It's been seven years."
Amman became the space where Malik finally stepped into his identity as an artist. "During COVID, the UK was in a really bad place. Being in Amman allowed me to find a studio, start making my own work. That would've never happened otherwise."
Although he had never lived in Amman before, his deep familial ties — summers spent with cousins and aunts — lent a strange familiarity. Yet truly living there came with its own realizations. "I had this idea that I'd just slot in and be seen as a local," he says.
"But I quickly realized I was far more foreign than I thought."
Still, Amman gave him room — literal and metaphorical — to think and create. "I wouldn't call it a creative hub," Malik says, "but it's authentic. If authenticity is what fuels your creativity, Amman is an incredible place to produce work."
On Painting Desire
Malik's practice revolves around intimacy, memory, and desire — often conveyed through figuration on silk. His first solo exhibition, held at Carbon 12 in Dubai, marked a turning point.
"It's my first solo show ever" he says. "All the works are from the past two years, and at the center of each is the male figure."
The heart of the exhibition is a painting titled They Invaded at Night
— a lush, gestural piece painted in oil on silk. "It was the first time I felt free in my approach," he explains. "I used only two colors and played with dilutions. The figures are imagined but based on sketches I made of marble statues in Rome."
He adds, "It began as an exploration of desire and intimacy — how do you depict a hug from behind, when you can't see it yourself?
But as I worked on it, and with political events unfolding at the same time, the meaning widened. It started to feel like an image of support, of protection, even escape. Something broader about human longing."
On Material Memory
Malik's use of silk is no coincidence. "Silk connects my past in textile and fashion with my current work in painting," he explains. The fabric's translucence and fragility echo the very themes his work explores — intimacy, memory, presence, and absence. "Silk has limitations — you can't erase. Once the pigment is down, it's part of the story."
This material choice also links him to craft traditions across the Middle East and Asia, drawing a subtle line between past and present, tradition and experimentation.
On Looking Ahead
As for the future, Malik is excited to explore new territory. "I've had such a focus on figuration. Now, I want to expand. I want to see what it looks like to explore setting, place, and objects — what happens when you remove the figure."
Residencies and projects are on the horizon, but for now, he's staying grounded in the work. "This show gave me a foundation to keep going. I'm just grateful to be able to make the work — and for it to speak to people."
