September 2025 | With NAJLA EL ZEIN

What better way to start the school year than under the auspices of a most inspiring creative muse, one whose work I regularly quote as influence.

What I immediately recognized upon seeing Najla El Zein’s Table Ballon back in 2018 in Beirut, was a graceful yet mischievous irreverence towards conventions, combined with immense rigor and acute intuition. Her vision seemed to integrate art and poetry as Design tools in a completely unique way. The table, crafted in sand and plaster, reimagined the dining experience by creating a sculptural landscape that forces the diners to sit around a rising bulge. For some, it must have been a lost space on the surface of the table but for others, including myself, it was an incredibly poetic gesture. It ticked all my boxes.

Since then, Najla has continued to meet my high expectations, crafting objects that reveal a singularly elegant vision. Her work consistently transports me. It defies categorization and includes massive stone sculptures that somehow feel as tender as marshmallow and as soft as a soothing breeze. Us, Her, Him is one of her most recent visions, an ensemble of limestone benches playfully assembled in Flag Plaza, Doha’s celebrated community space.

Najla was born in Beirut, as I was. She moved to Paris as a baby, as I did. She studied at the École de Camondo, as my mother did, and as I wish I had. Today, she runs her studio in Amsterdam.

Najla has played a key role in my journey in Collectible Design. In 2018, while I was fine-tuning objects at a workshop in Beirut for what was meant to be a group show, she saw one of my first pieces and confidently advised my then-gallery Over The Counter, to feature all of my completed works, and nothing else. That show became an inspiring building block in my career and placed Egyptian alabaster at its center.

Najla’s exhibitions, such as ‘Opacity, Transparency, and Everything In Between’ her 2024 solo show at New York’s Friedman Benda, are always defining creative moments. Her process and research are nothing short of remarkable. I have long wanted to ask her about them and about her relationship to matter and shape, which I feel often mirrors my own.

So, without further ado, I am happy to share the precious exchange I was lucky to conduct with Najla.

Najla, how are you? Where are you?

Hi Omar, I am really well, I am now in Beirut and heading back to Amsterdam next week.

I often express frustration when asked such questions, as if one had to choose. Yet since you grew up in France after being born and having lived in Lebanon, later working in the US and now living in Amsterdam, may I ask how you identify culturally?

I identify as someone who lives between cultures. I am neither fully one nor the other, and I believe that is the beauty of it. I must admit, however, that I only became comfortable with this notion quite recently. For a long time, I tried to fit fully into one identity, it felt simpler, easier to be understood. And yet, I learned to understand that the richness lies precisely in this in-betweenness. Now, I embrace this complexity fully, and even play with it.

I have felt a connection with your vision since the moment I met you in 2018. It seemed to mirror an understated French simplicity, imbued with an emotiveness that felt intensely Lebanese, if that makes sense. One shaped by the singular array of ruptures Lebanon holds for its natives. Do you feel that cultural plurality plays a role in your work?

I’m not sure how much the plurality of cultures directly influences my work, but maybe it does in some way! My practice is personal, I use it as a tool of expression. And surely the emotions that emerge come from that personal space and these personal experiences.

One of my recurring frustrations is not having had a proper academic background in creative areas. Do you feel that your years at the École de Sèvres and the École de Camondo were defining? In what way? And do you think you would have still found a path into a creative career without them?

Of course my studies were defining, but in the same way that growing up in a city like Paris, or later living in Rotterdam, Beirut and Amsterdam, shaped me. It’s your path and experiencew that shape you. My experiences at École de Sèvres and École Camondo were part of that path, and I was fortunate not only to study there but also to form real connections with teachers who truly challenged me. Yet I see these as building blocks, stones placed one on top of another, and I am still in the process of building on them. Living in Beirut was pivotal, discovering my roots opened something in me. And, of course, the people I’ve met along the way, and the ecosystem I’ve created around me, are what continually push me forward and inspire me.

You have worked with an array of materials, from plaster to stone, to hair, teaspoons, and even toothpicks, each time showcasing a singular vision and, in my opinion, a natural desire to transcend common reality. In recent years, you seem to have focused more on stone. Is that correct? If so, is there a reason for it, or is it purely coincidental?

I think all of my works are connected in some way. Stone found me, and I formed a real connection with it. It’s a material I love working with, one that feels very grounding and something that I keep on discovering. That said, I may return to other unusual materials, I really follow the flow of my journey. I am now very interested in ceramics and glass. Like stone, they hold a certain truth that draws me in.

I was so disappointed to miss your recent lecture at the PNA International Forum in Venice. I truly hope the full video will surface online, as I heard you were, unsurprisingly, both inspiring and eloquent. Without giving too much away, would you mind sharing, as briefly as you wish, some of the key points you raised?

It was such a great experience to take part in this lecture. The PNA brings together professionals and admirers of stone, and for a few days stone was all we spoke about. It was the first time I shared my thoughts on stone with people outside of my sculptors and it was wonderful to hear how deeply others connect to the material, it truly resonated. During the talk, I spoke about my relationship with stone, how I came to know it, how I work with it, and why I believe it is alive. The video should be soon made public.

Inspiration, thought, and vision are sometimes as important, if not more so than production itself, at least to me. Of course, craft and production are crucial, but I prefer to rely on experts who have spent lifetimes perfecting their skills rather than try to compete with them. I focus on honing my own strengths and talents because I know those can’t be delegated. I say this because I was fortunate to witness you working at Elia Louca’s inspiring stone facility in Beirut, where you would religiously spend mornings focusing on making your Lovers Bench, for example. I understand you primarily work with models, but why couldn’t you just send a technical 3D drawing and give directions without spending so much time there yourself?

For the simple reason that I make the bench together with the sculptors. A 3D drawing can never truly define what the work will be, I myself don’t know what it will become until I make it, and that’s the case with every piece I create.

The beauty of stone is that it isn’t passive, each block carries its own soul and its own journey. Working with it is a true collaboration, it’s not just about executing a form, but about bringing both the material and the piece to life.

Today process can become more important than the actual object which raises great concerns for sustainability, intellectual property and overall awareness. Do you think that this change in perception sometimes overpowers the actual resulting work?

On the contrary, I believe process is essential to fully understand a piece. My works are manually made, and any manual work inevitably carries the emotions of time, of the hand, of the conversations, the gestures, the softness, the care. Each work emerges from a very specific context. For me, process is not a distraction from the work, it is what gives the work its depth and presence.

Has your process changed now that you have your own studio in Amsterdam? How so?

My process follows me wherever I am. I don’t believe it changes, it evolves. What shifted for me in Amsterdam are the new relationships I’ve built, whether with my work colleagues or the craftsmen I now collaborate with. I deeply cherish my ecosystem, they are an inseparable part of my work and of my process.

‘Opacity, Transparency, and Everything In Between’ was your last Friedman Benda show in 2024 where you seemed to break the idea of hardness through an array of works from ceramics to glass to stone. Would you say this thematic is a kind of common thread in your work?

I wouldn’t say I aim to break hardness, but rather I try to reveal what lies beyond the first impression of a material. Stone, glass, ceramic, or even when we talk about my earlier works with spoons, they carry fluidity, beauty and softness. I really need this connection with the material and this tension between what a material seems to be and what it can become runs throughout my work. It’s less about defining hardness or softness, and more about exploring the inner spaces, where ambiguity and transformation happen.

Can you give us a glimpse of what you’re currently working on?

I’m currently working on a new public commission, alongside developing new collaborations. I’m creating a series of carpets as well as tiles that carry a narrative of process and identity. I’m also preparing a new large ceramic work that has been in the making for the past year and a half, I’m really looking forward to complete it.

What should I wish you for the future?

Continuity, that I can continue working with the care that I do.

Then we shall wish you just that Habebti Najla!!
Thank you for answering my questions!

RAPID ROUND

Name a city

Beirut

Name a book

Alma Malher by Francoise Giroud

Name an artwork

The non-finitos by Michelangelo

Name a film

Ghost before breakfast by Hans richter