As the longest-running contemporary art biennial in the Gulf region, the 16th edition of the Sharjah Biennial kicked off on Feb. 6 under the theme “to carry” — an open-ended proposition that invites reflection on what it means to bear history, home, rupture, and resistance.
Under the visionary direction of Hoor Al Qasimi and curated by an all-female team— Alia Swastika, Amal Khalaf, Megan Tamati-Quennell, Natasha Ginwala, and Zeynep Öz — the biennial, running until June 15, offers a sprawling, multi-site exhibition that transcends the traditional white-cube format. With 200 artists and over 650 works, including 200 new commissions, the show transforms Sharjah’s urban and natural landscapes into spaces of dialogue, resistance, and reclamation. From the heart of the city to the desert’s edge, the Biennial serves as a living archive of global south narratives, amplifying Indigenous voices, community-driven projects, and experimental forms of storytelling.
Under the leadership of Hoor Al Qasimi, daughter of Sheikh Sultan bin Muhammad Al-Qasimi and director since 2003, the biennial continues its active reclamation of Global South narratives—long dominated by Western institutions. This edition embraces a diverse roster of artists, spotlighting emerging talents from Asia, Africa, and Oceania, alongside strong representation from First Nations and Indigenous communities.
Stephanie Comilang’s 2025 film installation Search for Life II anchors this ethos. In a surreal close-up, a knife slices into an oyster, revealing gemstones nestled among dumpling-like pearls. The Filipino-Canadian artist’s “sci-fi documentary” shifts from Filipino free divers and Chinese freshwater cultivators to a Filipino-Emirati K-pop singer, all while weaving in TikTok sales videos that blur the line between myth and commerce.
The Biennial’s ambition is further underscored by its range of perspectives. Yhonnie Scarce’s haunting installation Operation Buffalo (2024) suspends handblown yellow glass to evoke radioactive fallout from Australia’s 1956 Maralinga nuclear tests. Raven Chacon’s sonic installation in an abandoned desert village merges Navajo and Bedouin songs, while Claudia Martínez Garay’s Chunka Tawayuq Pacha collapses Quechua linear time, merging the past and present in a single, layered tapestry.
Sharjah’s maritime history also runs deep through the Biennial. Zadie Xa and Benito Mayor Vallejo’s Moonlit Confessions Across Deep Sea Echoes (2025) uses shamanic bells and hanging shells as portals to ancestral voices, while Monira Al Qadiri’s Gastromancer (2023) stages a surreal dialogue between two colossal seashells about marine pollution and gender fluidity.
For Hoor Al Qasimi, the Biennial’s strength lies in its ability to amplify overlooked voices. “We don’t all have to do the same thing,” she reflects on the Gulf’s art scene. “We fill a void.” And in doing so, Sharjah continues to be a meeting ground where global south conversations thrive—no explanations required.
