The panel, led by Sebastian, the Lead Curator, tackled the dynamic relationship between sculpture, especially stone sculpting, and the more fleeting world of movement, dance, and performance art. Rather than merely asking how movement could activate sculpture, Sebastian pushed the discussion further: could these two seemingly opposite disciplines truly engage in dialogue? Could movement enhance sculpture in ways beyond the obvious, and could sculpture, in turn, shape the nature of movement itself?
The distinguished panellists—Akram Ali, an experimental artist whose work explores the nature of motion; Safa Baluchi, an artist who merges performance, textiles, and visual arts; and Sheikha Reem Al Thani, CEO of Exhibitions at Qatar Museums—each brought their unique expertise to the discussion, offering profound insights into the dynamic interplay of these art forms.
Akram Ali sees movement as more than just physical gestures; for him, it’s a language, a rhythm, a form of research. He describes it as a “cinematic wave,” a force that can be slow and deliberate or sharp and explosive. His work with Mohamed Al-Fadl explores this very concept, capturing movement in mediums beyond the body—charcoal drawings, shifting shadows, and traces of action left behind. “In every movement, there’s a rhythm,” believing that movement, like visual art, tells a story through energy, weight, and speed.
Safa Baluchi thinks of sculpture as a frozen gesture—a moment of motion solidified in time. But is it ever truly still? She explained that movement completes sculpture rather than disrupting it. Dance, in her view, doesn’t just interact with sculpture; it breathes into it, allowing it to shift in meaning and intensity. She plays with this idea in her work, where materials respond to the environment, swaying, bending, stretching—never quite settling into one form: “The space becomes an extension of the body,” highlighting the fluid conversation between movement, material, and presence.
Sheikha Reem Al Thani approaches the intersection of sculpture and movement from the perspective of public art. For her, space is a living thing, shaped as much by the artworks within it as by the people who move through it. She recalls choreographed performances staged around Richard Serra’s monumental sculptures during the Qatar World Cup, where dancers weren’t simply performing in front of the sculptures—they were engaging with them, responding to their weight, their silence, their imposing presence. “The performance wasn’t just about gathering people for a show; it was about blending the art with the public,” she explains, emphasising how movement transforms not just the artwork but the entire atmosphere surrounding it.
Throughout the discussion, a central theme emerges: sculpture defines space, giving it weight and permanence, while movement resists fixity, altering the experience of space in real-time. Yet rather than opposing forces, the two can amplify one another, creating a dialogue that is both physical and conceptual. Safa sees dance as a way to soften space, making it more playful, and more fluid. Akram treats movement as a conversation with his surroundings, his performances shaping—and being shaped by—the spaces they unfold in.
As the discussion wraps up, Sebastian reflects on the power of performance to break down barriers between art and audience. Sculpture, movement, and space don’t just coexist; they feed into one another, deepening engagement and shifting perception. Art, after all, isn’t always about what is seen—it’s also about what is felt, experienced, and lived.