British Bangladeshi artist and curator Mohammed Ali is a trailblazer in the creative industries. He is passionate about empowering communities, reclaiming narratives and telling untold stories.
Starting his career as a street-artist, once known under the artist name 'Aerosol Arabic', he has grown his practice to curating theatrical performances, immersive experiences and exhibitions. We caught up with the multi-talented creative producer to talk about his journey, love for hip-hop culture, working in the heart of communities, and his thoughts on curating the future of Islamic art.
You have been painting street-art professionally for over 20 years, travelling the globe with your art. What has been the most memorable moment of your career as an artist to date?
Many years ago, I used to work in the gaming industry and spent most of my time sitting behind the screen designing games, turning kids into zombies. I gave this up to explore ways of how I could use my art beyond the commercial world and use it for better purpose in the world. I had a great time learning how I could use my skills to benefit others with many memorable moments in that journey, but there is one particular moment which will always stay with me.
I was standing on stage in the Vatican at a TED X event, where I was invited to present to an auditorium full of faith leaders. It was a blessing to have the opportunity to present my art at a time where faith and religion is perceived as something as backwards and irrelevant to modern life. I was invited into the heart of Catholicism as a Muslim and to share my faith with a non-Muslim audience; it was quite spectacular. As part of my performance, I painted live on stage whilst talking through my art along with a soundscape from audio recordings I had captured from my pilgrimage to Mecca. It was a pivotal moment where I really felt like a bridge was created and I was able to make an impact with a new audience who may never have encountered someone like me before.
Credit: Chelone Wolf
What inspired you to fuse street art with Islamic script and patterns?
I was a child of the eighties and hip-hop culture was the voice of the youth at that time. It was born on the streets and was the art of the everyday people. It was accessible and transcended class and cultural barriers. Reflecting on it now, I realise how and why graffiti-art, a pillar of Hip-Hop culture, had such an impact on me.
The spirit of street-art for me felt very much in keeping with my rediscovery of my faith as a Muslim. Graffiti art was the beautification and decoration of the word of the people. It was exciting, it was a celebration of words, our words, everyday people’s words. I often wondered why the words we painted as graffiti-artists were exclusively in English. Why were there no other scripts or expressions in any other languages used? That interested me a lot and in my teenage years I started exploring Quranic Arabic and Hadith through my graffiti. Islamic-art, in stark contrast to graffiti-art, was pretty much a beautification of, not the words of people, but the word of God.
This felt like a logical and natural progression, marrying graffiti-art with Islamic script. It was like words from two different worlds colliding beautifully. It was almost unheard of at the time, and I was excited back then that hardly anyone else was doing this.
From practicing as an artist, how did you start curating?
Pondering on the accessibility of street art, I began to draw on connections to Islam and see parallels. They both stand for equality and accessibility and both are open to everyone regardless of class and race. As I became more mindful of my own faith, I felt in some ways both were interrelated and melded together, rather than be at odds or be in conflict with each other. I could actually be a graffiti-artist and found ways of weaving it into my practice of faith.
Placing people, the community and our own narratives at the heart of my art is really important to me. As a street artist that works in the public realm, I have to place people at the heart of my art. My art is people centered; my studio is in the heart of community. Storytelling, reclaiming narratives and celebrating unheard voices is key to my work. Through my practice I am passionate about telling peoples stories who don’t necessarily get to share them or have their voices heard. Through developing my murals, I was conscious of the storytelling that was happening and by placing people at the heart of my work I was able to make connections with curating and heritage.
My thinking is this: If a people have been silent for so long with their voices unheard, if am going to throw a spotlight on them, I better do it in such a form that will blow people away aesthetically speaking…or don’t bother doing it at all. Go big or go home, I say. Represent beautifully and don’t insult people by doing otherwise.
Do you think your experience as an artist gave you another insight into curating?