Dubai, United Arab Emirates (March 15-23, 2014)
The UAE have always been something of a mystery to me as well as a source of interest. When I was a kid, especially during those formative middle school years, my dad made frequent trips there to help construct a theme park named Ferrari World. Dubai is the crown jewel of the Emirates, so when I heard there was an honors trip heading there, I had to go. This trip was completely out of my comfort zone for numerous reasons: it was the furthest I have ever been from home, my longest flight, the most abstract concepts, and the biggest culture clash. The cherry on top of this challenging trip was that it was centered around Fine Arts...a nuanced and ephemeral subject.
I came to this class full of energy and ready to learn. I knew several of the Emirates coming in, such as Dubai and Abu Dhabi. I knew one or two of my classmates in passing. My parents had both gone through the art school, so I figured I was destined to take a class in its confusing corridors eventually. I managed to hit the ground running with mingling. It seemed as though I was one of the more outgoing members of the group from the first day of class, perhaps because of my background as a business major. I was most certainly in the minority in several aspects, including my major and my gender. Not many guys on this journey into the desert.
The professors were something of an anomaly to me: men who were confident in their knowledge but had a laid-back attitude to teaching. There were no exams or tests, or even lectures. It was all discussion on whatever we wanted to talk about. One of the professors invited us all to his personal studio to meet a genius artist who would shape much of my experience in Dubai: Hassan Sharif. A picture from the studio can be seen to the left.
I knew that I was very much out of my element here...but for the first time in all of my honors experiences, I felt as though I was out of my element with my classmates. Many of them came from artistic or creative backgrounds, while I did not. Many of them had strong beliefs about their faiths as we went into a region with a very different set...while I did not. Throughout the course of the class sessions and the trip itself, I felt myself bumping against egos and challenged by a wildly varying set of personalities. This was ultimately good for me, while I still remain frustrated with some of the differences I experienced.
When mid-March rolled around, it was time to depart. Through some sick sense of irony, I woke up with intense nausea and dizziness. I had packed and nervously slept the night before, but an illness had struck me seemingly out of the blue. I almost passed out from the moment I stepped out of my family's car...but with a little help from my classmates, I was able to survive the long plane ride to my destination.
I thought I touched down in Las Vegas. The airport was gorgeous with a splendor I had not seen. All the comparisons between the oasis in the Nevada Desert and the miracle in the UAE wasteland seemed one and the same. There were palm trees, flashing lights, and a dry heat outside. I arrived at my hotel and washed off the day of travel. That was perhaps the best shower of my life...partly because of the quality of my room. I had arrived where my dad had gone so long ago, and in a strange way it felt like I was home halfway across the world.
Over the course of the trip, I found an interesting dichotomy between style and substance. The class had long described how some of Dubai's beauty was empty spectacle, while many of the personalities who lived there gave soul to the glitzy facade. This was proved true when we met individuals like Ebtisam Abdul-Aziz, Hassan Sharif on his home turf, and even a princess. The tallest building in the world, a dinner next to the Burj Al-Arab, and art showings were just aspects of what I experienced. I had an opportunity to travel to the theme park my father helped construct, the largest Mosque in the UAE, and countless art studios. I saw some people discuss art in pretentious banter in order to hear themselves talk at the latter. I almost lost faith that the art world was anything but self gratification until Hassan...the man who had come to America to visit UC, invited us to his house, and had a conversation with all of us about the nature of his work, decided to speak to me. He seemed to have a genuine interest in my frustration in the art world and even shared in them. He was gentle and kind...and also put his heart into his modern art. One of his pieces was a series of connections between six points in every possible combination. I can't imagine the amount of work to construct the piece...as there was a massive stack of papers in a glass box demonstrating his sweat and tears. Most of the work was not even visible.
I saw a women slap a child in the markets.
I saw pretentious attitudes toward art lead a women to throwing fruit at me when I inquired too much at her creative process.
I saw my shadow cast down on Dubai from the tallest building the world.
I saw a man beat a camel so it would submit and let me ride it. I walked away.
I saw the tomb of the Sheikh Zayed bin Sultan Al Nahyan, the man who made Dubai what it is.
I saw a lot of beauty in Dubai, but also a lot of things that frustrated me. I saw one thing which greatly inspired me: the mathematical works of Ebtisam Abdul-Aziz. An empowered women, she wears traditional clothing but stretches the boundaries of art by using data to make simple forms that describe the world. She used a sentence she wrote, coded it onto a coordinate plane, and graphed it for all to see. As someone who has taught math, I was inspired.
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When I finally got home, it was time for me to construct a project demonstrating all that I had learned. I knew that I was frustrated with unknowable art pieces that put the creator above everyone else...as well as those who disdained others who were not "at their level". That was the worst I had seen of the art world, and I wanted to rebel against it just like Ebtisam. I took three of my favorite quotes, and coded them. Just like my inspiration, it was simple and easy enough to understand. It required thought, but the math involved was nothing beyond what an algebra student would learn by Christmas. The three pieces that I showed to the world were these:
I came to this class full of energy and ready to learn. I knew several of the Emirates coming in, such as Dubai and Abu Dhabi. I knew one or two of my classmates in passing. My parents had both gone through the art school, so I figured I was destined to take a class in its confusing corridors eventually. I managed to hit the ground running with mingling. It seemed as though I was one of the more outgoing members of the group from the first day of class, perhaps because of my background as a business major. I was most certainly in the minority in several aspects, including my major and my gender. Not many guys on this journey into the desert.
The professors were something of an anomaly to me: men who were confident in their knowledge but had a laid-back attitude to teaching. There were no exams or tests, or even lectures. It was all discussion on whatever we wanted to talk about. One of the professors invited us all to his personal studio to meet a genius artist who would shape much of my experience in Dubai: Hassan Sharif. A picture from the studio can be seen to the left.
I knew that I was very much out of my element here...but for the first time in all of my honors experiences, I felt as though I was out of my element with my classmates. Many of them came from artistic or creative backgrounds, while I did not. Many of them had strong beliefs about their faiths as we went into a region with a very different set...while I did not. Throughout the course of the class sessions and the trip itself, I felt myself bumping against egos and challenged by a wildly varying set of personalities. This was ultimately good for me, while I still remain frustrated with some of the differences I experienced.
When mid-March rolled around, it was time to depart. Through some sick sense of irony, I woke up with intense nausea and dizziness. I had packed and nervously slept the night before, but an illness had struck me seemingly out of the blue. I almost passed out from the moment I stepped out of my family's car...but with a little help from my classmates, I was able to survive the long plane ride to my destination.
I thought I touched down in Las Vegas. The airport was gorgeous with a splendor I had not seen. All the comparisons between the oasis in the Nevada Desert and the miracle in the UAE wasteland seemed one and the same. There were palm trees, flashing lights, and a dry heat outside. I arrived at my hotel and washed off the day of travel. That was perhaps the best shower of my life...partly because of the quality of my room. I had arrived where my dad had gone so long ago, and in a strange way it felt like I was home halfway across the world.
Over the course of the trip, I found an interesting dichotomy between style and substance. The class had long described how some of Dubai's beauty was empty spectacle, while many of the personalities who lived there gave soul to the glitzy facade. This was proved true when we met individuals like Ebtisam Abdul-Aziz, Hassan Sharif on his home turf, and even a princess. The tallest building in the world, a dinner next to the Burj Al-Arab, and art showings were just aspects of what I experienced. I had an opportunity to travel to the theme park my father helped construct, the largest Mosque in the UAE, and countless art studios. I saw some people discuss art in pretentious banter in order to hear themselves talk at the latter. I almost lost faith that the art world was anything but self gratification until Hassan...the man who had come to America to visit UC, invited us to his house, and had a conversation with all of us about the nature of his work, decided to speak to me. He seemed to have a genuine interest in my frustration in the art world and even shared in them. He was gentle and kind...and also put his heart into his modern art. One of his pieces was a series of connections between six points in every possible combination. I can't imagine the amount of work to construct the piece...as there was a massive stack of papers in a glass box demonstrating his sweat and tears. Most of the work was not even visible.
I saw a women slap a child in the markets.
I saw pretentious attitudes toward art lead a women to throwing fruit at me when I inquired too much at her creative process.
I saw my shadow cast down on Dubai from the tallest building the world.
I saw a man beat a camel so it would submit and let me ride it. I walked away.
I saw the tomb of the Sheikh Zayed bin Sultan Al Nahyan, the man who made Dubai what it is.
I saw a lot of beauty in Dubai, but also a lot of things that frustrated me. I saw one thing which greatly inspired me: the mathematical works of Ebtisam Abdul-Aziz. An empowered women, she wears traditional clothing but stretches the boundaries of art by using data to make simple forms that describe the world. She used a sentence she wrote, coded it onto a coordinate plane, and graphed it for all to see. As someone who has taught math, I was inspired.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
When I finally got home, it was time for me to construct a project demonstrating all that I had learned. I knew that I was frustrated with unknowable art pieces that put the creator above everyone else...as well as those who disdained others who were not "at their level". That was the worst I had seen of the art world, and I wanted to rebel against it just like Ebtisam. I took three of my favorite quotes, and coded them. Just like my inspiration, it was simple and easy enough to understand. It required thought, but the math involved was nothing beyond what an algebra student would learn by Christmas. The three pieces that I showed to the world were these:
These ideas were the three I struggled with the most. The first one is from a famous poem called "Ozymandias", in which an arrogant king states that his accomplishments will stand for all of time. Ironically, this statement is read on a fading monument found by a lonely wanderer. This seemed particularly apt since my adventure took place in the deserts of the UAE.
The second was about building a legacy, and how everyone has a role in constructing themselves an the world around them. This is from "The Builders" by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow...a poem I was made to memorize in 8th grade. I learned that the people were what made the spectacles of jaw-dropping architecture and flashing lights something more. We studied how Dubai is in a race against time to make itself something beautiful before its oil money run out...and in a similar way I need to continue to grow through my entire life.
Finally, I took a quote I loved from Hassan Sharif-the art master who took an interest in me back in Dubai. He spoke to me while I was frustrated with the seeming decadence and egos of the art world...and reminded me of what he had said when he visited America earlier in the semester. He said "do not be seduced by the window shops". I still have yet to fully decipher the phrase, but I know that it hints at the nature of Dubai and the art world as a whole: empty spectacle and pretentious banter are but the distractions behind a greater goal.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
I still have much to learn about Dubai and the global art scene, but I know that I grew from the growing pains of being exposed to them both. Dubai has been a dream destination of mine for almost a decade now, and now that I have completed it I am not sure I want to return. It was beautiful yet lonely. A cab driver who drove me home from a celebration one night explained how he missed his home in Pakistan because it seemed as though he go swallowed up by the splendor of the city. It is hard not to be overwhelmed by the tallest building in the world. When he pulled up to the next light, however, he saw a friend from his home village. The honked and yelled at each other playfully, and drove off in different directions.
Yet, despite the innate emptiness of a tourist attraction like Dubai, I am tempted...because I feel like I only scratched the surface. One of our tour guides said that you should live for at least one year in another country. He was a German man in Dubai who had traveled all across the world to end up in the middle of the desert. He seemed right at home and full of life.
I had an amazing experience in my dream destination, and it was a challenge. It made me grow because it was definitely not a cushy vacation...it was an experience.
An honors experience. Get it?
The second was about building a legacy, and how everyone has a role in constructing themselves an the world around them. This is from "The Builders" by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow...a poem I was made to memorize in 8th grade. I learned that the people were what made the spectacles of jaw-dropping architecture and flashing lights something more. We studied how Dubai is in a race against time to make itself something beautiful before its oil money run out...and in a similar way I need to continue to grow through my entire life.
Finally, I took a quote I loved from Hassan Sharif-the art master who took an interest in me back in Dubai. He spoke to me while I was frustrated with the seeming decadence and egos of the art world...and reminded me of what he had said when he visited America earlier in the semester. He said "do not be seduced by the window shops". I still have yet to fully decipher the phrase, but I know that it hints at the nature of Dubai and the art world as a whole: empty spectacle and pretentious banter are but the distractions behind a greater goal.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
I still have much to learn about Dubai and the global art scene, but I know that I grew from the growing pains of being exposed to them both. Dubai has been a dream destination of mine for almost a decade now, and now that I have completed it I am not sure I want to return. It was beautiful yet lonely. A cab driver who drove me home from a celebration one night explained how he missed his home in Pakistan because it seemed as though he go swallowed up by the splendor of the city. It is hard not to be overwhelmed by the tallest building in the world. When he pulled up to the next light, however, he saw a friend from his home village. The honked and yelled at each other playfully, and drove off in different directions.
Yet, despite the innate emptiness of a tourist attraction like Dubai, I am tempted...because I feel like I only scratched the surface. One of our tour guides said that you should live for at least one year in another country. He was a German man in Dubai who had traveled all across the world to end up in the middle of the desert. He seemed right at home and full of life.
I had an amazing experience in my dream destination, and it was a challenge. It made me grow because it was definitely not a cushy vacation...it was an experience.
An honors experience. Get it?