Connect with us

Lifestyle

Representing Transition: Fatma Al Shebani Bridges Tradition and Modernity Through Her Art

mm

Published

on

Few countries have undergone such rapid and dramatic transformation in such a short period of time as Qatar, a former British territory that, in just a few decades, developed from an overlooked backwater situated on the Persian Gulf to the wealthiest country in the world per capita. Likewise, few artists have captured the essence of this metamorphosis, both in its celebration of change and its retention of tradition, as masterfully as Fatma Al Shebani.

Al Shebani’s career took off after the artist decided to leave teaching for good in 2007. An untimely divorce granted her the opportunity to explore her own future in ways previously unconsidered. In 1994, Al Shebani received her Bachelor’s degree in Fine Arts from Qatar University and quickly established her unique voice, developing a style that bridges time itself to reflect the ethos of a society in transition.

Al Shebani’s preferred mediums include resin, bronze, and stainless steel; strong materials that mirror the internal strength of the many powerful women in her life. As a child, she would often visit the metal and concrete factory her father owned and managed, forming, from a young age, a special relationship with these various elements. Through them, Al Shebani brings wondrous visions and dreams to life. Generally, her work seeks to crystalize memories of the past and its traditions in a style that reflects the contemporary realities of Qatari life.

The concept of clothing as a lens through which one experiences culture re-emerges time and time again through her portfolio. In her ‘Bokhnaq’ series, Al Shebani reimagines the traditional garb of young girls to create statues that capture the essence of childhood, reinforcing this idea by positioning the figures in settings that add to the sense of freedom, play, and child-like joy inherent in the pieces. Her ‘Batoula’ sculptures transplant intimate memories from childhood into the present, specifically when Al Shebani would peek under the batoula of her mother or grandmother to look and touch their faces and connect with a part of their identities reserved only for those closest to them. 

Together, the two series paint a visceral portrait of traditional imaginings of Qatari womanhood: the cultural dress of women both before and after marriage; outward expressions of identity as one transitions from youth into adulthood. In this sense, Al Shebani’s work acts to preserve memory. She succeeds in reimagining tradition in a form that reflects the contemporary reality of Doha’s shimmering skyline of towering steel skyscrapers; in a form more palatable to audiences of the 21st century.

Other works draw direct inspiration from interpretations of Qatari nationhood. Al Adiyat 9 reproduces the words of the Quran’s surah Al Adiyat in the form of sculpture, while simultaneously illustrating the experience of Qatar as a nation racing quickly into its own notions of modernity. Commissioned to honor the drafting of the country’s 2004 constitution. Al Adiyat 9 serves as a powerful testament to the speed of Qatar’s development, the proud history her people have managed to bring into the present, as well as the boundless opportunities that still lie ahead.

Born into a generation destined to bridge the gap between tradition and modernity, Al Shebani has emerged as one of the most prolific Qatari artists of the past 20 years. She has solidified her role as a sort of ‘voice of the nation’, offering the people of Qatar, through her art, a powerful narrative that reflects both the challenges and promises of prosperity that have come to characterize the country’s collective experience of the past 50 years.

To learn more about Fatma Al Shebani and her work, reach out on social media.

Michelle has been a part of the journey ever since Bigtime Daily started. As a strong learner and passionate writer, she contributes her editing skills for the news agency. She also jots down intellectual pieces from categories such as science and health.

Continue Reading
Advertisement
Click to comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Lifestyle

The Future of Youth Horror Gaming: Lonely Rabbit’s Midnight Strikes

mm

Published

on

Credit: Lonely Rabbit

Empty hallways echo with footsteps that aren’t yours. The carnival rides spin without passengers. Familiar spaces, the ones etched into childhood memory, twist into something menacing, something that watches. Lonely Rabbit’s Midnight Strikes arrives eight months before its completion, targeting a youth horror genre that is hungry for experiences that feel personal rather than purely fantastical. The indie studio searches for a publisher while building momentum for a game that weaponizes nostalgia, turning high schools and carnivals into theaters of psychological dread. As franchises age and audiences demand fresh scares, this PC title tests whether memory-based terror represents the next chapter in youth horror.​

Maturing Past Jump Scares

Youth horror gaming shed its training wheels. Little Nightmares and Bendy and the Ink Machine proved that younger players crave atmospheric storytelling over cheap shocks, puzzle-solving over gore, and visual distinctiveness over recycled formulas. Bendy’s ink-soaked corridors attracted a massive audience, including children drawn to the characters despite the T-rating, because the experience felt emotionally authentic rather than condescending. Players now expect psychological tension woven through environmental details, stories told through decaying spaces, and cryptic objects scattered across levels.​

The genre’s maturation reflects audiences who grew up solving Portal’s test chambers and exploring Limbo’s monochrome nightmares. Among the Sleep demonstrated the potency of perspective: experiencing horror through a toddler’s eyes made familiar domestic spaces feel uncanny and threatening. Fran Bow plunged players into hand-drawn asylum corridors where perception itself became unreliable, where puzzles demanded engagement with trauma and grief rather than simple pattern recognition. Modern youth horror respects its audience enough to disturb them thoughtfully, creating experiences that linger days after the screen goes dark.​

Corrupted Childhood as New Territory

Midnight Strikes drags players through levels “reminiscent of their childhood memories”: the high school, the carnival, spaces universal enough to feel personal. Lonely Rabbit constructs what they describe as a “menacingly beautiful atmosphere filled with bizarre and terrifying creatures,” pairing monster survival with puzzle challenges that prioritize mood over mechanics. The game adopts a “cinematic and otherworldly feel” while grounding its terror in locations players actually inhabited, making fear feel intimate rather than abstract.​

This memory-based direction distinguishes Midnight Strikes from fantasy settings that dominate youth horror. Deserted carnival rides and empty school corridors carry weight because players recognize them as such. Maybe the locker rows feel too narrow, maybe the Ferris wheel groans with a voice that shouldn’t exist, maybe the cafeteria smells wrong. The game challenges players to “survive their fear of the unknown” while navigating spaces that should feel known, creating cognitive dissonance that amplifies dread. Other developers exploring similar territory, such as Subliminal, which utilizes “nostalgic spaces” and “a rotting feeling that something is not quite right,” suggest that childhood corruption represents an emerging subgenre.​​

Lonely Rabbit’s approach weaponizes personal history. Every player attended school, visited carnivals, and formed memories in spaces designed for safety and joy. Corrupting those spaces turns nostalgia into a threat, asking audiences to confront distorted versions of their own experiences. The monsters inhabiting these environments become more than obstacles; they represent the fear that familiar places might betray us, that memory itself becomes unreliable when shadows move in the wrong direction.​

Smaller Teams, Bigger Risks

Indie studios like Lonely Rabbit maneuver where larger publishers hesitate. Their two-month publisher search and pre-launch community building reflect changing pathways for games that defy established franchise formulas. Building a follower base before release creates market validation, proving that audiences want what you’re making before significant capital is committed. Transparency about development timelines and production milestones generates audience investment, turning potential players into advocates during the publisher search.​

Midnight Strikes represents creative gambles major studios avoid when quarterly earnings loom. Smaller teams experiment with concepts, corrupted childhood spaces, memory-based horror, pand sychological tension prioritized over action mechanics, that might fracture focus groups but resonate with underserved audiences. Lonely Rabbit’s global distribution ambitions demonstrate indie confidence: build something distinctive enough, and geography becomes irrelevant when digital storefronts erase borders.​

The next eight months determine whether Midnight Strikes defines a subgenre or remains an interesting experiment. If players respond to horror that mines personal history, if corrupted nostalgia proves more terrifying than fantasy monsters, other developers will follow this path. Lonely Rabbit’s gamble, that childhood spaces make better horror stages than alien planets or demon dimensions, could redefine what scares young players next. The studio’s publisher search tests whether the industry views memory-based terror as the future of youth horror or a niche curiosity. Either outcome writes the next page in a genre still learning what it can become.

Continue Reading

Trending