Bayt AlMamzar Dubai
Bayt Almamzar space. Photo by Yousif AlHarmoodi 




June 20, 2026


 
In Dubai’s Deira district sits a low-rise villa characterized by white stucco facades and terracotta roofing. It is Bayt AlMamzar—"House of Al Mamzar" in Arabic—founded in 2021 by siblings Gaith Abdulla and Khalid Abdulla, who transformed their grandmother’s house into an art space. 

I first encountered Bayt AlMamzar in 2022 during Ybna Al3eid, an exhibition of 14 socio-politically engaged artists exploring themes of Arabian decolonization, bodily deviation, and anthropological investigations. The show exemplifies the kind of programming Bayt AlMamzar champions: projects that engage with emerging artistic voices of political and social commentary on the Gulf. Young yet charged with vitality, Bayt AlMamzar carries a momentum that feels immeasurable and unpredictable—one that quietly, but insistently, subverts the country’s art system. 

In this conversation, Gaith reflects on the fetishization of youth in the art world, the launch of the publishing initiative BAMBAM!, the evolving art ecosystem in the UAE, and what “independent” truly means for an artist-run space today. At a time when international institutions such as the Guggenheim and the Louvre have continued to establish high-profile outposts in the UAE, the urgency of community-centered art spaces feels more pronounced than ever.   




Gaith Abdulla, Amy Yuanchen Qian, February 10, 2026


Amy    
How would you describe Bayt AlMamzar to someone who doesn't know it?

Gaith    
The three-word answer is independent art space. In Dubai and the UAE, the reason we highlight the term “independent” is that we do not have many spaces that are non-governmental and non-institutional. Back when Khalid and I just started, I would have defined it as an exhibition space that also offers artist studios. But a key part of our vision since the beginning was to serve the community.

Amy    
Why exhibitions and studios?

Gaith    
The most pressing needs we saw in the UAE’s artistic community were affordable, accessible studio spaces and exhibition spaces of high standards. There should be a space where exhibition making could be approached experimentally and critically, away from the pressures of commercialization.
        One of our community members described the space as offering the ability to “fail in public.” I understood immediately where he was coming from. You’re not always ready to show your work in a museum. Work doesn’t become perfect on its own—it needs development, critique, and exchange. In the UAE, those are the spaces we’ve been missing the most.
        In other art ecosystems around the world, that process is taken for granted. It’s how artists start, grow, and eventually arrive at major institutional exhibitions. But here, it was almost the opposite. We began with mega-museums, and then it became, “Oh, we need content to fill these spaces.” Society has been catching up for the past twenty years. To do that, you need structures—spaces where experimentation, and even failure, are possible.

Amy    
So did Bayt AlMamzar emerge to fill that structural gap?

Gaith    
That was the initial answer. But as we’ve evolved, we’ve realized there are many other needs worth addressing, such as independent publishing, performance art, filmmaking, music, architecture, and writing.
        Our writing residency, for example, is about to launch its 15th iteration. We recognized that writing practices in the UAE lacked developmental structures. There simply aren’t enough spaces where writers can experiment, receive feedback, and build sustainable practices.
        The question is how to stay on a modest scale while responding to the demands we are observing, attending to the slowness and malleability. As you continue to exist and grow as a grassroots space, pressures to institutionalize inevitably appear—there’s an expectation to become more structured in the way things are typically done. It becomes a constant negotiation. We have to be hyper-aware of how much you adapt without losing the core of what you’re trying to protect.

Exhibition opening, Crystal Clear, 2024



Amy    
You’ve mentioned in your interview in Sandy Times about your interest in early-career artists. Have you always been drawn to this crowd?

Gaith    
Yes, what is ongoing in the Gulf is unique. You need to keep your eyes wide open to everything around you because of how quickly history is being written. Engaging with early-career artists and hearing these new voices, including what they would like to say about society, politics, and the current condition, is especially exciting. 

Amy    
What you said reminds me of the Youth Assembly program of Jameel Arts Centre, where only artists under a specific age are qualified to apply. 

Gaith    
I’m not saying programs like the Youth Assembly should not be happening because they fill such a big gap. I also understand that these incubator spaces are geared towards young people, partly because it’s easier to manage intakes and make the processes less complicated.
        Young practitioners do comprise the big majority of early-career artists, but it is important to think about the idea of accessibility, especially in a country like the UAE, with clear boundaries between social segments.
        It is a bit more nuanced than age because saying “young” artists can feel disenfranchised and alienated for someone who does not qualify in this criterion. In the UAE, there’s a real fetishization of the term “young”. We often equate “early career” with “youth,” and that does a massive disservice to practitioners who start later or have non-linear paths. When you create these rigid "under 24" boxes, you alienate a huge segment of the community. 
        At Bayt AlMamzar, we want to remain sharp and critical of those structures. We are interested in the contemporary moment—the fluid ground where history is being written as we speak. Engaging with early-career voices, regardless of their birth year, is how we understand the politics and social conditions around us.

Amy    
You also mentioned in your previous interviews about gaps in the UAE or Gulf art world. Could you specify what gaps?  

Gaith    
First and foremost, demographics. The UAE population is roughly 10% nationals and 90% non-nationals. That demographic imbalance shapes access to opportunity. As Emiratis, so many opportunities are geared toward us, while various migrant communities, especially from the global majority, remain underserved. That experience of uneven access is something I think about constantly while building Bayt AlMamzar.

Amy    
Do you think those gaps can be translated into the arts?

Gaith    
Big time. This is where institutions and representation come into play. If you look at the Jameel Arts Centre in Dubai, its programming made concerted efforts to highlight artistic practices from South Asia and artistic practices that are deeply relevant to this regional context but have not been represented in mainstream institutional culture. I view it as a conscious choice to highlight and amplify certain voices in the Gulf region where they did not have many opportunities to share meaningful stories. It is also at moments like this that curation becomes more important. For instance, private institutions like the Ishara Art Foundation also provide space for South Asian art practices. There is a private institutional drive to provide spaces for these conversations and communities that have existed on the fringes in the UAE for too long in history. 
        Other topics such as exploitation through capitalism also slowly come into light in the mainstream discussions.

Exhibition opening, In Your Dreams, 2024


Amy    
I noticed that “local community” is a crucial part of your mission statement. How do you define “local”?

Gaith    
The way we define local is not limited to nationality—we take that term critically. We are hyper-conscious of the fact that we want to serve practices that need the most support. 
        Due to our relatively small scale, we are able to be more responsive and easier to mobilize, compared to other larger institutions. For example, we once offered a bathroom as a residency space to an artist, Ana Escobar Saavedra, who was looking for opportunities to develop her practice, given the existing institutional structures weren't able to offer the support she needed. Ana was thinking through what modest gesture might be possible and how it could be turned into something meaningful. 
        When people usually think of the UAE, a predominant way to define things here is the biggest, the first, the best, the shiniest… Sometimes, existing in these conditions, individuals can feel small or helpless. Therefore, it is meaningful to be able to do something that's so counterintuitive—something modest and small—to that structure. 

Amy    
I think it's beautiful that Bayt AlMamzar caters to each artist’s specific needs, which sometimes is not achievable in big institutions. 
        Can you share more about your thoughts on major institutions coming to the UAE? Would you ever consider collaborating with these institutions?

Gaith    
We would not privilege collaboration with a major institution simply because of its scale, nor would we reject it for that reason alone. We have had very positive interactions with Jameel Arts Centre, for example, whose approach reflects a socially conscious spirit we genuinely identify with. So, for us, it is not really about whether an institution is major or minor, but about the mindset it brings.

Bayt AlMamzar Residency. Photo by Yousif AlHarmoodi


Amy    
Earlier, you described your space as independent. When you say “independent,” do you mean financially or critically? Or both? I noticed a Patron’s Circle on your website. Could you also talk about that?

Gaith    
That’s such a good question. When we first started, people would say, “You’re two Emirati brothers starting an art space—you should talk to the government. They’ll be happy to support you.” First of all, it’s not as simple as that. Secondly, it would go against the spirit of the project to be beholden to the government and larger institutional structures through funding or otherwise from the start. For us, safeguarding what it means to be independent in the UAE is especially critical. Yes, the first part of being independent is finance: we try to self-fund. We understand we need to find ways to maintain the funding for the project to grow and flourish, and continue to provide opportunities. We are most keen on raising funds from private individuals and the private sector because, again, in the UAE, there is the perception that the government is going to take care of everything. Cultural sectors, in other places around the world, are primarily supported by private patronage, but we don’t see that as much in the UAE, where the government takes on the majority of the work. In realizing this, we think cultivating patronage in the private sector will be a great signal to society to mobilize in supporting cultural production.
        The Patron’s Circle started with a small amount of funds we received from a community member, and we did more outreach. This support on an annual basis can make a difference in art production: it’s about building community-supported sustainability. The Circle currently comprises 15 amazing people—writers, lawyers, gallerists, artists, researchers, and critics. Aside from their financial contributions, we also heavily rely on them for strategy and advice. For example, the recent fundraiser auction was their idea.
        Four years in, BAM is starting to become known to people, and our ways of operating are appreciated by some. We would be happy to receive government funding as long as that does not have any conditions on the usage or alter our original way of operation.
        We are also considering finding commercial vehicles, such as setting up a cafe or F&B, to supplement our income beyond grants and sponsorship as a way of sustaining ourselves.

Amy    
Is BAM exploring beyond visual art? Do you have a set focus?

Gaith    
Yes. We’ve explored immersive performances. Last year, we did one that unfolded throughout the entire house—outside, on the roof, in every room. It was messy, very DIY, but honestly magical. 
        Performance art in the UAE is really flourishing right now. In some ways, it feels like where visual art was 15 years ago, when the megaprojects were first announced. There’s momentum, but not yet enough infrastructure. So we realized the house could offer support in practical ways.
        Something we are really proud of is that we’ve provided BAM as a rehearsal space to +63Kolektib, a Filipino creative collective that works across disciplines and primarily in performance. We were able to offer them rehearsal space for multiple projects including Metro Diaries before it premiered at New York University Abu Dhabi. That’s the kind of support we can offer: trust, flexibility, experimentation.
        We’re now in conversation about potentially launching a performance residency. That possibility has emerged from a broader effort to think more creatively about our spaces and to see them as adaptive environments for different kinds of practice.
       Film is another one. We’ve hosted a wide range of film screenings there, from independent films to, strangely enough, the first public UAE screening of the Oscar-winning documentary 20 Days in Mariupol (2023). That happened because the Ukrainian embassy reached out to organize a screening of the film in the UAE after the film won Best Documentary. 
        We’ve continued screening independent films regularly. We’re even exploring the idea of an early-career film festival—still in early conversations. There’s something powerful about gathering people under the night sky to watch moving images together. It changes the atmosphere entirely.
        We’ve also explored culinary practices. Last year, we hosted a chef-in-residence who explored the use of dates as both a cultural symbol and an ingredient. Having a chef staying with us in the house for a month was really fun. 
        More recently, we just hosted an olfactory residency in collaboration with Khajistan, a New York–based publishing house and archive focused on marginalized and global majority voices. 

Film Screening of Al Reem Al Beshr’s work at Bayt Almamzar, 2025 



Amy    
That’s a great range of programs! Why don’t you also talk about your publishing practice BAMBAM!?

Gaith    
Over the past four years, this question of archiving, of long-term thinking, has felt increasingly urgent. So many of our exhibitions or residencies produced great outcomes like essays and extended research that deserved deeper engagement. 
        BAMBAM! was born out of our writing residency. “BAM” stands for Bayt AlMamzar. Rahel Aima, who founded the writing residency, sat with it and thought: what could the second “BAM” stand for? Books and Magazines!
       We focus on transgressive, subversive publishing practices. We’re not tied to format or setting. It’s more about strong ideas and how we can support their long-term existence. Two books are currently in development, all of which emerge directly from the writing residency. The first one is a graphic novel, Becoming Kimmy by Neha Vora & Azim AlGhussein, that imagines the subjective lives of street and domestic cats in the UAE, while quietly opening onto questions of freedom, suffering, care, gender, and violence. There are some very cool independent publishing practices happening in the UAE right now. We just want to support that development.

Amy    
What kind of events do you want to do with the Factory going forward?

Gaith    
Ground Factival will definitely happen once a year.

Bayt Almamzar space. Photo by Yousif AlHarmoodi



Amy    
Have there been particular challenges in running the space? 

Gaith    
Licensing and registration have been the main challenges. There was no existing category for what we do—especially operating from a residential property—so zoning became an issue. For instance, we secured a license intended for home-based businesses, which wasn’t designed for artist-run spaces but allowed us to operate.

Amy    
Internally, how did you deal with that uncertainty?

Gaith    
From day one, one mantra has carried us through much of the uncertainty: it’s better to ask for forgiveness than permission. Honestly, that’s the only reason Bayt AlMamzar exists. If we had waited for formal approval, we’d still be waiting. Permission might never have come.
        In a place where institutional frameworks didn’t yet accommodate us, it became a practical philosophy. Running BAM has meant navigating uncertainty—legally, structurally, and culturally. You move forward without guarantees. You make space first, and hope the structures follow.

Photo of young Gaith



Amy    
Could you recommend any other independent art spaces around the world?

Gaith    
If I were to highlight one, 1604 Art Space in Dubai, founded by artist Sulafa Mohammed. It was a meeting room you’d rent in an office building. Sulafa has turned this bedroom-sized room into an art space, hosting residencies, exhibitions and public programs. It plays with ideas of scale and access in a fascinating way. There is a great team behind it and they have existed for a year now.  It is especially great to see such creative ways in which artist-run spaces emerge and exist in the world—like an art space in the middle of a commercial office building, especially in places like Dubai, which can feel highly conditioned and sterile. 
        Five years ago, there were very few independent artist-run spaces in the UAE. Today, I did some research and counted around a dozen, and it’s only growing from here. 

Amy Yuanchen Qian is a New York–based curator, writer, and, most importantly, a close collaborator with artists.





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