Najla El Zein moves between disciplines, creating works that transcend the boundaries of design and sculpture. Raised between Beirut and Paris, she has developed a unique visual language that fuses organic forms, material experimentation, and deeply personal narratives. With a background in industrial and interior design from the École Camondo in Paris, her approach is both rigorous and instinctive, balancing structure with fluidity.
In Conversation with Najla El Zein
Najla, you’re in your studio. You’ve got your beautiful models behind you. Tell us about your space.
Yes, I’m in Amsterdam in my studio, where I create all my works. My models are an essential part of my creative process, they are my tool of expression and emerge spontaneously. They serve as both inspiration and a means of exploration. I tend to produce a large number of them, keeping many, while some have already been realised as full-scale pieces. Others remain in waiting, perhaps to take shape as finished works one day. I am very attached to them, they hold memories, thoughts and possibilities.
How did you arrive at this point in your career?
I grew up in Paris, surrounded by art, culture, and antiques. I studied at Atelier de Sèvres and then École Camondo, a beautiful conceptual school for product design and interior architecture located in the 14th arrondissement of Paris. I remember one of my dearest teachers, Jalil Amor, who led me to interpret my impressions rather than express reality. What I learned from him is that it was no longer about how one is supposed to see things, but about how one sees them. After Camondo, I explored experimental cinema, participated in think tanks in Rotterdam, and eventually moved to Beirut, a city that I barely knew and that deeply inspired me, where I spent ten years fully dedicating myself to my practice. I moved to Amsterdam with my family in 2019. Each experience built upon the last, shaped the way I perceive, think and create today.
You’ve worked with various materials—stone, glass, hay, spoons. Is stone your comfort zone?
I don’t think one can ever enter a comfort zone with stone, and that’s the beauty of it. Each block of stone has its own expression, requiring a unique approach. Working with such a medium in stills a sense of humility. After all, stone is shaped over thousands of years, carrying the movement and beauty of our landscapes. I truly enjoy working with natural materials like stone, ceramic, glass, plaster.. Each holds its own story, both in its origins and in the way it takes shape. I feel my pieces have a role in honouring these materials and their process, as well. This fascination has always been present in my work. In my earlier pieces, whether using spoons, toothpicks or hay, I was drawn to familiar objects, offering them a new perspective.
The spoon lamp sculpture, for instance, is no longer about the spoon as an object but about movement, texture, and the reflection of light and our surroundings.
Your largest project, “Us, Her, Him,” was a major public commission. How did it come about?
I was commissioned by Qatar Museums in collaboration with Friedman Benda gallery to create an installation at the entrance of Doha’s Cultural District. The district designed by JCFO connects three major museums in Doha (The Museum of Islamic Art, The National Museum of Qatar, and the forthcoming Art Mill Museum) through pedestrian pathways, parks, and recreational spaces. This commission marked a significant shift for me, from working on domestic-scale pieces to creating a public artwork designed to foster human interactions within the public realm.
Now permanently installed at the Flag Plaza, Us, Her, Him consists of several sculptural benches that explore human connection and interaction. I wanted the artwork to reflect the experience of being in a public space – meeting, crossing paths, engaging and getting to know others. Each bench represents a different mode of relating: some are fully embraced, others are just beginning to connect, while some are more formal, introverted or generously present. These variations capture the essence of human relations, offering users the chance to relate and engage with the artworks and others, just as one would naturally do in a public space.
The project is also significant for its showcase of skilled local craftsmanship. The benches are entirely hand-sculpted in Lebanese limestone in Lebanon, and the scale of the installation is remarkable, over 300 meters of sculpted benches.
Us, Her, Him was honoured with the bi-annual Dia-Al-Azzawi Prize for Public Art by the Tamayouz Excellence Award earlier this year, a recognition that brings great pride to me, my collaborators, and the team of sculptors I worked with.
Do you consider yourself as an artist or as a designer?
I don’t consider myself strictly an artist or a designer. I draw from both fields to serve the mission of each project. My work isn’t just about personal expression, it’s about conveying a message, whether through the material itself, my observations, or the dialogue between user, object and space. Time, creation and experience shape my process, which sets me apart from a traditional designer and perhaps brings me closer to an artist. Ultimately, I am who I am, and that is my strength.