AS: What strikes me is that Saudi Arabia only opened to tourism in 2019, yet there’s already been such a tremendous focus on artistic development, from the Diriyah Biennale to the Saudi pavilion at the Venice Biennale.
BF: We’ve always had everything you see today. Tourism didn’t suddenly open in 2019 and create all of this, it has existed all along. Artists from the 1960s, 1970s and 1980s had their movements, formed collectives, learned from their regions, traveled abroad and then brought those experiences back home. So really, it’s about providing more support and tools to diversify. The main difference now is governmental financial support and policies. The opportunities that the government is championing, like the Biennale, create significant milestones for artists beyond local initiatives, which used to be the norm. Now, we’re able to operate more institutionally, and that’s essentially the difference.
AS: Why do you think there is such a proliferation of art in AlUla in particular? What is it about this place that draws events like Desert X, spectacles like the Villa Hegra-presented Vertigo, and even a Pompidou collaboration?
GC: First, there’s the will. The people of Saudi Arabia want to bring culture to AlUla. AlUla is a place of heritage, where you can discover archaeology and beautiful historical sites. It’s a unique place in the country. They began to see that culture isn’t just about the past, but also about a dialogue with the present. So it’s natural to have contemporary music, art and performances interacting with this environment. When you invite artists here, it’s unlike anywhere else. There’s a very special mood, maybe from the desert, the wind, the absolute silence in certain places or the oasis. It’s a beautiful backdrop for creating.
FF: We don’t just want to copy what’s done abroad, but to adapt it and make it local. Take French artist Paul Emilieu Marchesseau, our designer in residence. He worked with local artisans, which was challenging because they needed to understand his artistic vision while he had to adjust his approach to fit their traditional techniques and expertise. The same goes for Gautier Capuçon, the international cellist who performed at the villa’s opening. He visited an institution in AlUla called the Music Hub and was asked to play the local ‘Edith Piaf’ of Saudi music, Mohammed Abdu. At first, he felt uncomfortable because he was used to European repertoire and didn’t know how to approach it, but eventually he managed beautifully.
AS: Saudi Arabia is historically known for adherence to tradition, and AlUla was once a quiet region before all of this transformation. Yet the people here seem to have warmly embraced the arts. How would you describe this process, and what do you think has driven such a shift?
GC: It works because of proximity. Villa Hegra is situated among the people, with our doors wide open. That’s exactly what we want. We’re not trying to impose a specific type of culture; we just want to create the conditions for making art here, in full respect of everyone’s culture. The people are gentle and open, they approach everything with a lot of sincerity and simplicity, so you can’t fake anything. That’s why I believe something different can truly happen here.
BF: It’s a grassroots process. It’s challenging to engage with institutions that work with the government, since most initiatives in Saudi are government-funded. For someone coming from France, whether an artist or producer, there’s a balance to strike. You bring your own culture, but you also meet a very distinct local one that you have to respect in order to thrive.