Modern Painters

BLOUINARTINFO.COM JUNE/JULY 2016MODERN PAINTERS 77RIK VAN LETunder construction for the 2022World Cup. “To that end, weare well aware that our effortsare a work in progress.”``````“Going back to some of theproblems here in Qatar, I’mnaive of some of the aspects,”Koons admitted. “I know thatinternationally there has beena movement to try to makeworking conditions better forlaborers, and I think that a lotof problems, not only herebut internationally, have beenaddressed to try to makesituations where, if abusestake place, they’re corrected.”Of course, Koons is not apolitical commentator, but Ihad hoped that he would havemore deeply considered theUDPLÀFDWLRQVRIOHQGLQJKLVname to Doha. Rather thandiscuss freedom of expressionor labor here, he waded intotheoretical issues surroundinghis work. We also conversedabout cartoons. “People feelunintimidated by comics,” Koonstold me. “They feel familiarwith them and are open to anabstract dialogue.”``````It might make sense, then,that one of the boldestartists in Qatar is, in fact, anunassuming cartoonist.“Basically, I live two lives,”Khalid Albaih told me. By day,Albaih directs public instal-lations for Qatar Museums,gargantuan sculptures in theairport or urban roundabouts.By night, when his childrenare in bed, he draws politicalcartoons, or Khartoons, ashe dubs them.His work was on display atthe Doha branch of VirginiaCommonwealth University, anart and design school inEducation City, where Koonshad lectured a day earlier. Iled a public conversation withAlbaih; he was candid aboutthe limitations he faces, suchas the country’s cyber crimelaws that prohibit the “spreadof false news” and violationsof “social value,” among othervague measures. Likewise,Albaih knows certain publicÀJXUHVDUHRIIOLPLWV<HWKHÀQGVZD\VWRVOLSLQGLVVHQW,Qone cartoon, bullets face offagainst pens. In another, aPLOLWDU\RIÀFLDODQGDPDQLQ``````traditional dress chase a manwhose head is a shininglightbulb. “Censorship doesreally make you more creative,”he told the couple dozenstudents and faculty inattendance. By contrast,cartoons in the Qatari pressare predictable, safe, andboring; like elsewhere in theMiddle East, there is moreleeway online and in galleriesthan in print or broadcast.Albaih’s work questions thevery circumstances ofsuppression and the utility ofsocial media, the primaryplatform for sharing andconsuming his art. Albaih hasthus far gotten away with hisillustrated critiques ofauthority, though he didmention that at times friendsand colleagues have told him totone down his work.“Censorship doesn’t only existhere in this region, it’swherever you go,” he told theaudience at VCU. For instance,when the TimesSURÀOHGKLPLQ2013, the paper declined toinclude any of his cartoonsabout Palestine in the articleor accompanying online videos.``````Albaih and I skipped the Artfor Tomorrow “Cyborg Art”panel with Neil Harbisson andMoon Ribas and spent theafternoon driving around Doha.He is impressed by thegovernment’s emphasis oneducation, his boss Sheikha Al-Mayassa’s ever-expanding artinitiatives, and just how muchthe city has changed since hisFKLOGKRRG7KHQH[WGD\,ÁHZto Dubai International Airport.Waiting at the luggagecarousel, I hopped on the freeWi-Fi and saw that Albaih hadtagged me on Facebook: TheQatari emir had pardoned thepoet Mohammed al-Ajami—after he had served four yearsin prison.I was reminded of whatsomeone had asked Albaih aday prior at the artist talk:Are you brave or are you stupid?“A bit of both, I guess,” hereplied coyly. “Every time I postVRPHWKLQJ,·POLNH¶<HDKWKDW·Vit. It’s going to be a problem.’<RXNQRZ,GRWKLVEHFDXVHRImy kids. I don’t want them tolive in the same world that I livein. And somebody has to say,‘This is wrong.’ ” MP``````Richard SerraEast-West/West-East, 2014.``````O