By NEETA LAL
Dubai: I had come to Dhai Dubai 2025 expecting spectacle, but what unfolded under the vast lattice of Al Wasl Plaza at the Expo City was something much more intimate: a luminous meditation on heritage, belonging, and the quiet, persistent ways a city remembers itself.
Dhai (meaning light in Arabic) Dubai is back this November, and it truly feels brighter — not just visually, but emotionally, culturally, symbolically. The first-ever Emirati-led light art exhibition has returned for its second edition, taking over the spectacular Al Wasl Plaza from November 12 to 18, lighting it up nightly from 6 pm to 11 pm. This year carries a new theme — Light Influences Life — an exploration of how illumination shapes Emirati art, culture, and collective memory. And though its tools are beams and shadows, Dhai feels less like a festival and more like a week-long cultural heartbeat.
Workshops, inspirational panel discussions, 360-degree projections, and immersive soundscapes folded global visitors from all corners of the globe into the artworks themselves. The expansion this year includes public dialogues at the newly launched House of Arts, Expo City’s cultural home for regional expression. There, conversations continue long after the projections fade, drawing artists, thinkers, and curious visitors together. As one curator said during a talk, “You walk in for the art. You leave with a community.”
The festival sits at the heart of the Al Wasl Season, a new cultural series celebrating Dubai’s multicultural spirit through creativity and innovation. Yet Dhai Dubai stands apart in the constellation of regional light festivals. While others blend international and local artists, Dhai exclusively showcases Emirati creators — a deliberate choice, a statement of identity. These are new commissions from three generations of artists, curated by Amna Abulhoul and Anthony Bastic AM, and presented through a partnership between Expo City Dubai and Dubai Culture.
“Dhai Dubai is the spirit of Dubai made visible,” said Abulhoul. “A place where past and future intertwine, where art becomes a bridge, and where dreams are given space and light to grow.” Bastik added that by including all age groups – artists from ages 25 to 65, both genders and different art forms – the event was “inclusive, panoramic and deeply resonant”.
Under the dome, the seven installations form a kind of celestial orbit. They glow, shift, converse. They are windows — not just Instagrammable tableaux, but portals into the emotional, spiritual, and cultural resonances of light within Emirati life.
Fatma Lootah, the matriarchal presence among the group, opened the circuit with a work that pulsed like a living organism — slow geometries breathing in rhythm with the crowd. “Light reveals the parts of memory that words often fail to hold,” she told me. Her piece felt like a living archive, its repetitions carrying the warmth of lineage.
Beside hers, Mohammed Kazem’s installation was all movement and direction. Lines of light folded into coordinates, dissolving into sound. “I’m always tracking the moment — where we stand, what shifts,” he said. “Light makes those movements visible.” His work felt like a diary written in luminous strokes, refusing stillness.
Khalid AlBanna brought a slower, more contemplative rhythm. Inspired by traditional patterns — dhow carving, mosque lattice, desert flora — his projection rewarded those willing to lean in. “Our heritage isn’t loud,” he said. “It’s patient. Light helps reveal what’s already there.”
In contrast, Alia Bin Omair offered a tender intimacy. Known for her material-driven jewelry, she transformed refracted light into a cascade of memory-objects. Her installation felt like the opening of a treasured box. Then came the kinetic energy of Al Zaina Lootah, whose bold colors and rhythmic geometries insisted on the present. Her work felt like heritage in motion — unapologetic, contemporary, alive.
Tucked into the quieter curve of the dome, was Hessa Alghandi. Her installation, textile-like and delicate, radiated a domestic tenderness. “I work with collected moments,” she said. “Light honors the small things we overlook.” Her piece slowed me down — a rare gift in a city built on velocity. I also discovered how culture shapes design experiences.
As the week unfolded, the festival’s significance grew clearer. This wasn’t just a visual spectacle; it was a cultural statement. A platform built deliberately to empower regional artists, to position Dubai as a global capital for creativity, and to frame Emirati identity through a future-facing lens.
Shaima Rashed Al Suwaidi of Dubai Culture called the festival “an important moment on our annual calendar,” adding: “It invites visitors to discover the creatives shaping our public spaces and experience how the city’s diversity is brought to life.”
Her words stayed with me as I circled the dome again on my last evening. Because in the global galaxy of light festivals — from Lyon’s theatricality to Amsterdam’s canal-lit poetry — Dhai Dubai is a singular spark. It celebrates light in its universal symbolism, yes. But its works are distinctly, confidently Emirati, boldly reinterpreting heritage with the language of a new generation.
As I stepped out of Al Wasl Plaza for the last time, the glow lingered in my peripheral vision — not the overwhelming dazzle that fades by morning, but a quieter imprint. A reminder that here, under this extraordinary dome, light does more than illuminate. It remembers. It connects. It transforms. And for one luminous week in November, it reveals the soul of a nation.
BIO: Neeta Lal, formerly Senior Editor TOI, India Today and The Asian Age, is a SOPA-nominated independent journalist exploring the intersections of art, culture, travel and gastronomy in South Asia and beyond. She has travelled to 75 countries and 22 Indian states and her work has appeared in over 150 publications including Forbes, Fortune, SCMP, The Guardian, BBC Travel, Travel & Leisure, Foreign Policy, Global Asia, NatGeo, The National, Gulf News, Khaleej Times, Nikkei Asia, and many more.
