This article appeared in ‘Reflected Selves: Exploring Portrait Photography.’ This issue explores the intimate exchange between photographers and their subjects, revealing how identity, emotion, and connection shape each portrait. Featuring artists devoted to capturing authenticity and presence, this issue highlights photography as a shared journey, one that goes beyond the surface to preserve the essence of a fleeting moment.
Anastasia Nysten (AN): Could you tell us a bit about your early years? Was art an important part of your family’s life?
Sueraya Shaheen (SS): I was born in Beirut, where my Syrian parents had a close circle of eclectic artistic friends. We lived on Hamra street (three of us before my sisters were born), waking up at night to music and the smell of shisha from their gatherings on the balcony. There were always creative people around, writers, singers, poets.
AN: When did you first start taking photographs?
SS: High school. I wasn’t a good student academically, and my Arabic teacher had me join his Saturday photo workshop as a way to stay engaged.
It was a small, relaxed environment where we’d go out and photograph whatever was around us; friends, scenery, life. I loved capturing moments, as an escape from the classroom and a chance to be creative. I still have the habit on Instagram now, it is like a visual diary for me.
AN: What was your experience in the darkroom like?
SS: The darkroom was a different world. Blank sheets of paper slowly developing into images felt surreal. The darkness, the smells, the focus, and my mess-ups, it was all part of the magic. That process just helped me understand that rules and being perfectly technical weren’t important at all. Mistakes worked too, and more interesting. Moving parts, taking pictures, developing the negatives and then the prints, and a quiet, repetitive and meditative environment. Therapeutic and far from the madding crowd!
AN: How did you continue to pursue photography?
SS: I struggled in school, I knew the material but couldn’t pass exams. I dropped out and worked at Govinda Gallery, where director Christopher Murray, put music photography on the map. He said a photo portrait of John Lennon is as important as a painting of Mozart.
One night, I heard Keith Haring was giving a talk at the Corcoran. Afterwards, he just hung out with the students, it felt electric. I enrolled the next day. The Corcoran gave me the structure I needed. We shot everything on film. I lived in the photo department but wandered constantly, drawn to the senior art studios. I photographed everyone I met. Portraiture became my way of connecting, I felt completely at home.
For my thesis, I photographed DC artists in their studios — Sam Gilliam, William Christenberry, Jacob Kainen. Watching them work and capturing them in their element was deeply inspiring. It reinforced everything I loved about portraiture.
One of my favourite professors, Steve Szabo, always said: study the frames before and after the one you think is ‘the shot.’ With film, you had thirty-six chances. You had to slow down, compose, and pay attention. Even now, I remember that the beauty is often in the in-between.
Most of the time now, I just overshoot with digital, as if I’m filming. Later, when I’m alone, editing the images, I pick a portrait. I will come back to it later. It’s so true what he said about all the movement, the blur, the gestures leading up to the image I was trying to capture. Those are the portraits that make the final cut.
AN: Was portraiture a natural direction for you after Corcoran?
SS: For sure. It’s a dance, sometimes smooth, often awkward. I gravitated towards portraiture, partly because it allowed me to connect with people without talking. A photographer I admire, Abdo Shanan, says he speaks several languages, but photography is his strongest voice. I can relate.
AN: After finishing your degree at the Corcoran, where did you go from there?
SS: After graduating with a Bachelor of Fine Arts, I travelled to Beirut to take stills for my childhood friend Maria Ousseimi, who was filming Childhood Lost, a documentary that was later adapted into the book Caught in the Crossfire: Growing Up in a War Zone, which I also contributed to. Working with them opened my eyes to a much broader world. Until then, I had been living in my own world. During that time, I also photographed Saloua Raouda Choucair in her studio and visited Rachana to photograph Alfred Basbous.
Photograph © Sueraya Shaheen.
Back in the States, I landed a role at United Press International (UPI), eager to break into photojournalism but it wasn’t what I had imagined. It was very much a boys’ club, and I found myself doing administrative tasks rather than going out on assignments unless it was raining.
So, I started finding my own gigs, mostly for independent art magazines, taking portraits for writers working on profiles. I often worked for free but loved being published. I did covers for Scene Magazine, Articulate, and The Washington Review, and also photographed my friends who were in bands. In my mind, I was building a portfolio. Becoming a professional portrait photographer was always the goal.
AN: After your time in Washington, you moved to New York. How did that transition unfold?
SS: I reconnected with Timothy Priano, a super-agent I had interned with one summer. When I showed up with my portfolio, he said he no longer represented photographers. I wouldn’t leave so he gave me a job as the receptionist. It gave me front-row access to the behind-the-scenes of New York’s fashion world. I also worked on It Girls, a documentary directed by Robin Leacock. But it didn’t take long to realise fashion photography wasn’t for me, the industry was competitive and full of gatekeepers.
To support myself, I began photographing friends’ children. My portraits were candid, editorial, and mostly black-and-white. Word spread, and the work provided a steady income. I rented a space downtown at Danny Moses Photo Co-op, where I was once again surrounded by artists. I printed my work at David Adamson’s Atelier, and through his wife Laurie, who ran the adjoining gallery, I learnt the business of selling fine art, and I soon found myself dealing in works by artists like Chuck Close, Annie Leibovitz, Robert Longo that Adamson Editions were publishing. This expanded my involvement in the art world and allowed me to create a more sustainable career in the arts.
But I was having too much fun in New York and getting distracted. A lot of my friends were leaving the rat race. I followed friends to Houston, where I collaborated with arts writer Catherine Anspon on her book Texas Artists Today. It brought me back to photographing artists in their studios, the same concept I explored during my thesis; shooting medium format portraits and 35mm environmental images.
Around 2007, my sister Daveeda, unimpressed by my Houston project, encouraged me to focus on artists from our region. She had recently completed a certificate at the Corcoran and was working with Samia Saleh, director of one of the first galleries in Dubai, on the Burj Khalifa art installations and they showed me all around. I visited and was introduced to the region’s fast-growing art scene, which reminded me of New York; dynamic, multicultural, and full of opportunity.
To gain credibility and expand my career, I used the fees from the book to take an Art & Business course at Sotheby’s in London. In class I met the aspiring, now established, curator Aya Alireza who thankfully put Rose Issa on my radar, and took me to an opening at her gallery.
Photograph © Sueraya Shaheen.
It was a good thing that I got that training because when I went back to Dubai, there was no gallery interest in Portraiture, so I put on another hat and stayed in touch with the gallery directors and started SURA Art Advisory with my sister. She introduced me to Sheikha Lateefa bint Maktoum, founder of Tashkeel and a photographer herself. She generously supported Tribe magazine for two years. Tashkeel became my creative hub. It was quipped with a full darkroom and digital facilities and it’s where I printed Encounters. Surrounded by artists once again, I felt a sense of belonging. As Daveeda put it: “It will remind you of the Corcoran.”
AN: What role did your past experiences play in this transition to Dubai?
SS: One key connection was Rose Issa, who put me and my portraits in her book Arab Photography Now. That opened doors, it was like my passport for a while. I met Ayman Baalbaki setting up his exhibition at her London gallery, and out came my camera.
She introduced me to Hassan Hajjaj who I photographed with his son, Tarek, and again in his studio in Shoreditch. His advice to me was very straightforward “Look east, buy a one-way ticket, and get out of town and dont look back”.
AN: Can you describe how you began photographing artists from the region?
SS: My approach was organic. After meeting Ayman, I photographed him at his studio in Beirut. I like to keep photographing an artist multiple times. It’s like when collectors ‘collect in depth’ and acquire more and more work from the same artist.
One artist leads to another. It was like a self-created residency, where I focused on expanding my portfolio of portraits, the essence of artists and their environments. Abdul Hay Mosallam Zarara in Amman, Dia al-Azzawi in London, Sliman Mansour in Ramallah, Samia Halaby in Tribeca, among others.
After shooting Saleh Barakat’s portrait, he took me to Waddah Faris studio. I photographed him and spent the afternoon listening to his stories, in admiration of his work. I had just seen his exhibition of black and white portraits which had not been the original plan to show. Apparently in discussion, Saleh asked about some boxes lying around. Turns out that they were negatives stored for decades, portraits of a young Mona Hatoum, and more. I decided then and there I shouldn’t exhibit again for at least another ten years: wait until all our wheels fall off, and then show the work!
I met curators Sam Bardaouil & Till Felrath, and they asked me to contribute portraits of artists from my portfolio like Zineb Sedira, Ghada Amer, Hassan Sharif, Mounir Fatmi, Akram Zaatari, for their book Summer Autumn Winter… and Spring: Conversations with Artists from the Arab World.
AN: You mentioned exhibiting your work. What was the significance of those exhibitions?
SS: In Houston, I had connected with Barbara Davis, who encouraged me to create a show of my artists portraits at her gallery as part of the Photo Fest Biennial in Houston, which was a turning point. Titled Encounters and later exhibited in Bahrain at La Fontaine Contemporary Art Centre. The series travelled to Mexico City and London too. Some ended up in the Barjeel Foundation, Dalloul Art Foundation and Maria Sukkar’s Self Collection.
Photograph © Sueraya Shaheen.
AN: You are the co-founder of Tribe Magazine, a non-profit publication dedicated to photography and moving image in the Arab world.
SS: I can’t believe it’s been around now for ten years; I remember we were told that we probably couldn’t fill more than a few issues. Obviously, that’s so not true.
In my opinion photography is the strongest medium coming out of the region. I don’t really understand conceptual art and I often get confused in contemporary galleries, so obviously I might be biased, but something tells me I’m not wrong!
I know it’s cliché to say we are traditionally storytellers and imagemakers but have a look through the website of the Arab Documentary Photo Program, a real game-changer, and you will be blown away.
Check out the photographers on Sara Kontar’s platform, Al-Ayoun, I know what I’m talking about. I’m inspired every day by what I see out there, and very grateful to be able to curate issue after issue of real talent. There’s no end in sight, every day another discovery. Rumour has it photo museums are being built throughout the Arab world. Tasweer Photo Festival Qatar is a photo biennial championing artists supporting long-term photo projects. Dalia Al-Dujaili is covering photographers from the region non-stop in BJP (British Journal of Photography). Photopia in Egypt organises photo festivals. This year there was also Baghdad Photo Week. Vantage Point through Sharjah Art Foundation is in its thirteenth year championing emerging photographers through open calls. Jaou Photo and Jaou Tunis the Art Biennale has had very strong photo exhibitions. Galleries like Gulf Photo Plus have been pushing the envelope more and more, Empty Quarter was a pioneer, and East Wing is still thriving. Tintera, the photographic consultancy, in Cairo is elegant and refined. Darkroom Amman, edgy.
The diversity of the region reflects in the contemporary art scene. Tribe emerged from this period as a way to continue exploring and sharing photography, I’m not sure for how much longer in print, but the online platform just keeps growing. I’m so thankful for the artists who contribute. The website is educational, and has links to over 100 photobooks. We make sure the journals end up in art school libraries. Photographers from the region need to be included when the history of photography is studied and where contemporary photography history is taught. I will always advocate for that.
About Sueraya Shaheen
Sueraya Shaheen is a Syrian-American photographer and co-founder of Tribe, a non-profit platform and publication dedicated to photography and moving image from the Arab world. Raised in Beirut, she found her visual voice through photography in high school. After earning a BFA from the Corcoran College of Art and Design in Washington D.C., she developed a distinctive approach to portraiture, photographing renowned artists in their studios. Her portraits reflect a deep, enduring engagement with the artistic process and environment. A tireless advocate for regional image-makers, she has helped spotlight Arab photographers through Tribe and continues to document the evolving landscape of art in the region. Her practice is both intuitive and intentional, shaped by the belief that the most powerful connections often happen in silence, through the lens.
