Saudi creative couple pursuing Japanese art dream

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Fatimah Al-Dubais and her artist husband Mohammad Al-Madan’s love for Japanese art runs deep, while always maintaining their Saudi roots. (Supplied)
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Fatimah Al-Dubais and her artist husband Mohammad Al-Madan’s love for Japanese art runs deep, while always maintaining their Saudi roots. (Supplied)
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Fatimah Al-Dubais and her artist husband Mohammad Al-Madan’s love for Japanese art runs deep, while always maintaining their Saudi roots. (Supplied)
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Fatimah Al-Dubais and her artist husband Mohammad Al-Madan’s love for Japanese art runs deep, while always maintaining their Saudi roots. (Supplied)
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Fatimah Al-Dubais and her artist husband Mohammad Al-Madan’s love for Japanese art runs deep, while always maintaining their Saudi roots. (Supplied)
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Updated 06 February 2024
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Saudi creative couple pursuing Japanese art dream

  • Fatimah Al-Dubais, Mohammad Al-Madan are spreading their love for the artforms across Saudi Arabia

DHAHRAN: The first thing that strikes you when you meet the creative duo Fatimah Al-Dubais and her artist husband Mohammad Al-Madan is how much they love merging Japanese aesthetics with Saudi sensibilities. It would not be unusual for one to have an engaging conversation with them about Japanese-related matters while they each keep their hands busy. Her, elegantly folding vibrantly-colored paper rapidly into a crane as she talks, and him, sketching with his signature anime-style drawing as he responds. Their love for Japanese art runs deep — all while always maintaining their Saudi roots.

Both Al-Dubais and Al-Madan grew up in the Eastern Province; they each independently grew a fascination for Japanese art from a young age — Al-Dubais with origami, Al-Madan with anime and manga. They met in the creative world in 2016 and have since become partners in life and in work.

“We are known in our Saudi friend circle as the ‘Japanese art couple’,” Al-Madan told Arab News with a smile.




Fatimah Al-Dubais and her artist husband Mohammad Al-Madan’s love for Japanese art runs deep, while always maintaining their Saudi roots. (Supplied)

Indeed, the creative couple have been adamant about spreading their version of Japanese-inspired art in the Kingdom for the last seven years, teaching hundreds of students workshops and offering personalized guidance for locals who want to merge their chosen traditional Japanese art forms — all while still keeping it fresh and “Saudi.”

The story unfolded when Al-Dubais was about 12 years old in Saihat City in 2010. A student she did not know was creating little cranes made of paper and gifting them to other girls at school. Although she never received one herself, Al-Dubais was instantly fascinated. The idea of taking a mundane everyday item like paper and using just your hands to transform it into something else entirely intrigued her, but she did not know what the art form was called.

HIGHLIGHTS

• Both Fatimah Al-Dubais and Mohammad Al-Madan grew up in the Eastern Province and became fascinated by Japanese art from a young age.

• They bonded professionally over their love of Japanese art and their interest in finding creative ways to weave their Saudi identity into their works.

• The pair have worked on many collaborations, using local materials like parts extracted from a palm tree to make art.

YouTube had just started to become popular that year and Al-Dubais had to ask her parents for permission to make a search. As soon as she went online, she tried to look up paper-related art but she could not find the right keyword. Then one day, the algorithm showed her a thumbnail of an origami video and she clicked it. That is how her journey into origami started.

She then spent hours and hours teaching herself how to shape little pieces of paper at home into small works of art. Her mother, who constantly encouraged her to explore new art forms and to be creative, told her to keep at it. So, she did.




Fatimah Al-Dubais and her artist husband Mohammad Al-Madan’s love for Japanese art runs deep, while always maintaining their Saudi roots. (Supplied)

“My mother was my biggest supporter when I was starting to learn origami. Many people around me told me stuff like ‘what are you doing, just folding paper over and over, that isn’t even artistic!’ I enjoyed it, though, and my mother told me to ignore them. It was ‘something’ and soon, they’d know it,” Al-Dubais told Arab News.

And, soon enough, people did. In 2013, after years of making little paper pieces of art in her bedroom, Al-Dubais’ mother told her she had a surprise. Her mother had spoken to some local artists in Saihat and told Al-Dubais to pack some of her paper creations — they were going to show them off at an art show. It was the first time she felt like a legitimate artist and that her works were worthy of being showcased. She learned a lot from that experience and the interaction with other artists encouraged her to become a full-time artist. A year later, in 2014, she started to buy proper origami paper when a new store opened up not too far from her hometown. Every Thursday, she would make a trip there to buy some paper. Then, she started to order from Amazon.

Going to Japan — a place that inspired our work and our lives, even from this distance — would be a dream.

Fatimah Al- Dubais, and Mohammad Al-Madan Saudi artists

While still in high school, Al-Dubais began teaching workshops related to origami, and after she graduated in 2015, she decided to go all in.

When talking to locals about her love of origami, she met a gentleman who worked between Saudi Arabia and Japan and asked if she would like an introduction to the Japanese Embassy in Riyadh. Al-Dubais’ mother accompanied her to the Kingdom’s capital, where she spoke to people about her art and gained confidence to continue learning the craft professionally.

Meanwhile, Al-Madan, who is a few years older than Al-Dubais, grew up not far from her hometown and also had a love of Japanese art — but it was more focused on manga and anime. He was always a creative child and also grew up in a creative family who worked with their hands.




Fatimah Al-Dubais and her artist husband Mohammad Al-Madan’s love for Japanese art runs deep, while always maintaining their Saudi roots. (Supplied)

“In 2016, I was leading an art workshop in Qatif and needed some assistance. Mohammad — who is now my husband — was a volunteer,” Al-Dubais said with a giggle. They bonded professionally over their love of Japanese art and their interest in finding creative ways to weave their Saudi identity into their works.

Al-Madan, who was studying in the US at the time, went back to university. Although his major was in business management, he took art classes on the side just for fun.

“I took an animation class and developed my own style which I use today,” he said.

Upon his return, he proposed to Al-Dubais. It was at the height of the pandemic so they had to keep their wedding very small. After that, their lives centered on Japanese-inspired art.

Speaking about her husband’s artwork, Al-Dubais said: “Not because he’s my husband, but I really like his style! It has elements of anime but is a bit more realistic, like the features look a bit more real. He will talk to you and pay attention to what you are saying while his hands draw you at the same time. It is his way of communicating.”

They both used to create art the old-fashioned way, with paper, but have now pivoted to digital mediums. The couple rarely start with paper anymore, since it is more practical and efficient to do most things electronically, saving time and energy, as well as materials.

The pair have worked on many collaborations since, using local materials like parts extracted from a palm tree to make art.

Last year, they worked on a giant origami-inspired owl art piece at a local cafe in Saihat, named Sova, which became the talk of the town. Sova, which means owl in Ukrainian, became a physical manifestation that combined their skills to create a large-scale art piece that locals could interact with.

They also collaborated on many workshops at Ithra in Dhahran, and at Hayy Jameel on the opposite coast in Jeddah. So far, the couple have taught hundreds of students by hosting events in most major cities within the Kingdom.

But they are still looking to learn and create. A missing piece still remains: They have never visited Japan to experience the art forms they now center their lives around.

“We got married during (the pandemic) and our plan was to go to Japan for our honeymoon, but that still didn’t work out. Hopefully we will get a chance to go, to visit or study. Going to Japan — a place that inspired our work and our lives, even from this distance — would be a dream,” the couple said.

 


What new technologies are revealing about the Silk Road’s forgotten landscapes

Updated 13 sec ago
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What new technologies are revealing about the Silk Road’s forgotten landscapes

  • Drones and digital tools are allowing archaeologists to map vast areas in hours rather than months of ground surveys
  • In Saudi Arabia, aerial mapping has uncovered dense prehistoric and Bronze Age sites previously thought to be empty

DUBAI: Across the deserts and mountain valleys of the Arab world, drones are now doing work that once took teams of archaeologists months to complete.

In northern Saudi Arabia, for example, aerial surveys can map an entire ancient settlement in minutes, revealing faint outlines of walls, pathways and structures hidden beneath the surface.

These images are later turned into 3D models — part of a growing effort across the region to use technology to trace old trade routes, map forgotten sites and better understand how people once moved across Arabia and beyond.

Much of this work is connected to renewed interest in the Silk Road and the networks that once linked Arabia with the wider world.

Harrat, Khaybar. (Supplied)

The Silk Road refers to a network of ancient trade routes that linked East Asia with the Middle East, North Africa and Europe for more than 1,500 years.

Rather than a single road, it was a vast web of caravan paths and maritime corridors connecting cities from China and Central Asia to Iran, Iraq, the Arabian Peninsula, the Levant and the Mediterranean.

Along these routes, merchants, scholars and travelers exchanged goods such as silk, spices and metalwork, as well as ideas, technologies and cultural traditions that shaped the development of the wider region.

In more recent times, scholars, students and heritage authorities across the Middle East and Central Asia are increasingly relying on drones, laser scanning, photogrammetry and satellite analysis to document archaeological landscapes.

In Saudi Arabia’s AlUla and Khaybar regions — now considered some of the world’s densest concentrations of prehistoric and Bronze Age structures — drone surveys have helped researchers record sites that would otherwise remain inaccessible.

Dr. Hugh Thomas, a lecturer in archaeology at the University of Sydney and co-director of the Prehistoric AlUla and Khaybar Excavation Project, says the scale of the Saudi landscape makes aerial work essential.

“Saudi Arabia contains an exceptionally dense archaeological landscape distributed across a vast geographic area,” he told Arab News. “Drone-based surveys allow large volumes of archaeological data to be collected efficiently.” 

A Neolithic mustatil next to a Bronze Age pendant burial in Kaybar. (Supplied/Mat Dalton)

Indeed, many structures sit on steep or remote terrain that ground teams cannot easily reach. This shift to aerial archaeology has also revealed details that would be almost impossible to see from ground level.

Thomas notes that researchers have long suspected a link between water sources and Neolithic mustatil structures, which date back approximately 7,000 years. In 2020, drone images captured by his team near Khaybar also strengthened theories linking mustatil to water sources.

“The drone images revealed that recent rains had settled in specific parts of wadi valleys, exactly where the mustatil were built,” he said. Since then, multiple surveys and peer-reviewed studies have supported this connection, with many mustatil shown to point directly toward water.

In parallel, new technologies are reshaping how archaeologists understand the wider landscape. Thomas says tools such as drones, satellite imagery and 3D modelling allow researchers to document vast areas quickly and at far higher resolution than ever before.

These approaches “enable the rapid, cost-effective documentation of this vast and previously understudied landscape” and create permanent digital records that support long-term monitoring and analysis, he said.

This has been transformative for understanding past movement and land use.

Remote sensing work in northern Saudi Arabia has revealed extensive Bronze Age funerary avenues — pathways lined with monumental tombs, running for thousands of kilometers and linking major oases such as Khaybar, Al-Hait and Al-Huwayyitt.

Drone surveys and 3D models have allowed researchers to classify tomb types more accurately and identify where excavation would yield the most useful results. Thomas says these techniques directly contributed to one of the project’s most significant achievements.

“This has ultimately assisted us with our most recent paper, where we were able to publish the C14 dates of remains found in 40 Bronze Age tombs, helping us understand when these tombs appeared on the landscape and how they developed over time,” he said.

While international collaborations play a central role, Thomas says long-term progress in the Kingdom depends on building local capacity.

He says contributions from Saudi researchers, students and even members of the public are becoming increasingly important.

Archaeologist Don Boyer measures a tower of stones next to a 525m long Mustatil in Khaybar. (David Kennedy)

“Local researchers, students, and members of the public are taking photographs of archaeological sites and sharing them digitally,” he said. “Each image provides a lasting record of archaeological remains.”

In Saudi Arabia’s AlUla, one of the region’s most active archaeological hubs, the Royal Commission for AlUla has supported wide-ranging surveys that combine aerial photography, remote sensing and targeted excavation.

Published research from the AlUla and Khaybar Aerial Archaeology Project describes how thousands of structures — from ancient hunting traps to tombs and settlements — have been recorded using these methods in recent years.

“We’re seeing landscapes we did not even know existed before this kind of work began,” said archaeologist Dr. Rebecca Repper of the University of Sydney in an RCU briefing. 

“Technology is helping us reassess northern Arabia’s role in long-distance connections.”

Recent research across Central Asia shows how drones and LiDAR, a remote-sensing technology used to create extremely accurate 3D maps of landscapes, buildings, or buried features, are transforming the study of Silk Road-era landscapes.

In Uzbekistan, a team led by Dr. Michael Frachetti — an archaeologist at Washington University in St. Louis, who specializes in ancient mobility systems — used drone-mounted LiDAR to scan remote high-altitude terrain, revealing two previously undocumented medieval cities, Tugunbulak and Tashbulak.

Researchers excavate medieval pottery at the newly rediscovered medieval Silk Road city Tugunbulak located in the mountains of southeastern Uzbekistan June 8, 2022 (Michael Frachetti)

A 2024 peer-reviewed study, “Automated analysis of high-resolution lidar traces large-scale medieval urbanism in highland Central Asia,” details how these surveys exposed plazas, fortifications and settlement layouts previously invisible from the ground.

In southeast Kazakhstan, a 2021 study in the journal Applied Sciences shows how UAV photogrammetry helped map irrigation networks, settlement traces and burial mounds linked to medieval trade and pastoral routes.

Together, these findings demonstrate how high-resolution aerial mapping is reshaping our understanding of the landscapes and movement patterns that framed the Silk Road.

For governments, these discoveries are more than scientific. UNESCO describes the Silk Roads as a shared heritage space where cooperation is critical, and regional countries have increasingly embraced cross-border research partnerships.

In Saudi Arabia, AlUla’s collaborations with universities including Oxford, Bologna and the French National Centre for Scientific Research reflect a growing diplomatic interest in cultural research.

These partnerships have generated shared excavations, joint field schools and open-access databases — opportunities that were rare in the region two decades ago.

Digital access is also reshaping how the public engages with this history.

The International Dunhuang Project, a global consortium led by the British Library and multiple Asian national libraries, has digitized hundreds of thousands of manuscripts, murals and archaeological fragments linked to the Silk Road.

Its open platform has become a major educational resource for schools and researchers worldwide.

A LiDAR image of Tugunbulak shows a dense settlement along a ridge. (Michael Frachetti)

In AlUla, digital reconstructions and virtual models are increasingly used in classroom activities and community programs.

Youth involvement is part of this shift. In Saudi Arabia, RCU’s assorted heritage guardian programs introduce young people to survey techniques, basic archaeology and remote-sensing tools, helping train a new generation of community researchers.

In parts of Central Asia, student volunteers often support field surveys and digital documentation under national heritage ministries and international missions.

Across deserts, mountains and oasis towns, a fuller picture of ancient networks is beginning to emerge. Every drone flight reveals structures long buried under sand and stone.

“On the plateau, we found a hidden valley with large mounds and undulations on the surface,” Frachetti explained in a Washington University Magazine feature about his team’s drone-assisted work.

“It was obvious, both in person and on the drone-acquired surface model we created, that we had stumbled across something much larger and different from the typical campsite we had expected.”

Recent archaeological work has discovered a fortified 2.6-hectares Bronze Age town (al Natah) in Khaybar oasis (dating around 2400 BCE- 1300 BCE). (RCU)

Meanwhile, every 3D model helps trace how people once traveled, traded and settled across continents.

And every partnership — whether in AlUla, the Gulf, or Central Asia — reinforces the idea that this heritage connects far more than a single nation.

The Silk Road’s story is being rediscovered not through speculation but through data, satellites and the work of a generation that is documenting the past with new precision.