Tasneem Sarkez: Residency in Bhar Lazreg

5 May - 30 June 2026
  • About

    Born in Portland, Oregon in 2002 to Libyan immigrant parents and now based in New York, Tasneem Sarkez works across...
    Tasneem Sarkez portrait by Mehdi Ben Temessek
    Born in Portland, Oregon in 2002 to Libyan immigrant parents and now based in New York, Tasneem Sarkez works across painting and sculpture in a practice she describes as "Arab kitsch." Working primarily in oil, she builds compositions sourced from Arab social media and the visual grammar of early-2000s internet design Growing up in predominantly white Portland, Sarkez's access to Libyan and Arab culture came through the internet rather than through family, and consequently engages with it via the web's own disseminative logic. The gap between an image in its original context and the same image as it arrives elsewhere runs through her practice as a structural condition; blurs and crops native to digital compression become painterly qualities. "Arab kitsch" names the aesthetic territory this produces. Where Greenberg dismissed kitsch as culturally worthless, Sarkez recuperates it as a site of hybridisation: consumer objects that acquire cultural weight through their circulation and mistranslation. The rose stencilled onto a spare-wheel cover and the perfume sold in Arab neighbourhood delis with labels like "Obama" or "Come To Me Again" are objects in transit, addressed to two audiences at once. Arab kitsch also encompasses the WhatsApp stickers and illustrated greetings circulated among the older Arab generation, an internet culture whose aesthetic registers in Sarkez's work as directly as graphic design. The car is Sarkez's most persistent subject. In Good Morning (2023), a muted rendering of a Jeep is overwritten with Arabic script. The phrase operates as a banal greeting and, within WANA internet culture, as a meme category invisible to anglophone viewers. Sarkez also draws on Libyan drift-racing videos, a subculture in which young men modify Western-produced cars to ultimately destroy them. The women whose eyes appear framed in windscreens at the edge of these videos are a persistent reference point, a feminine presence at the periphery of an aggressively masculine spectacle. Text operates throughout as an image in its own right. First Lady pairs a portrait of one of Gaddafi's so-called Amazonian bodyguards with soap packaging text playing on virginity and purity, setting the spectacle of female military service against the language of products that sell the idea of being "pure." A militaristic register runs through Sarkez's titles and imagery more broadly: White-Knuckle, Golden Gunstilettos with pistols for heels. Her sculptural work Heart Notes No. 2 (2025) assembles found perfume bottles from Arab neighbourhoods on a metal cart, their original labels replaced by Sarkez's own in the same linguistic register: "Coney Island Sand," "Soulmate," "Sexy Girl." The bottles record an acculturation arrested mid-process: a simultaneous reach toward exoticism and assimilation. Sarkez graduated with a BFA from New York University in 2024. Solo presentations include White-Knuckle at Rose Easton, London, and Just For You at ROMANCE, Pittsburgh (both 2025), with a residency at Selma Feriani Gallery, La Goulette, Tunisia forthcoming in 2026. Her work is held in the collections of FORMA Arts, London and the Thomas J. Watson Library at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York. She received the Martin Wong Award in 2023.
     
    Written by Victoria Comstock-Kershaw.
    Courtesy of L’Atelier by Selma Feriani, Nafas and brave Projects.
  • WORK IN PROGRESS

  • ARTWORK

    • Tasneem Sarkez, All what you need, 2026

      Tasneem Sarkez

      All what you need, 2026
      Oil on linen
      101.6h x 101.6w cm
      40h x 40w in
    • Tasneem Sarkez, Top Women, 2026

      Tasneem Sarkez

      Top Women, 2026
      Oil on Linen
      78h x 127w cm
      30 3/4h x 50w in
    • Tasneem Sarkez, Innocent in peace, 2026

      Tasneem Sarkez

      Innocent in peace, 2026
      Oil on Linen
      121h x 152w cm
      47 3/4h x 59 3/4w in
    • Tasneem Sarkez, Protect her, 2026

      Tasneem Sarkez

      Protect her, 2026
      Oil on linen
      38h x 76.5w cm
      15h x 30 1/8w in
    • Tasneem Sarkez, Palestine, Texas, 2026

      Tasneem Sarkez

      Palestine, Texas, 2026
      90h x 300w cm
      35 3/8h x 118 1/8w in
  • End of Residency


    What happens when an existing pictorial vocabulary encounters a new city?


    For the New York-based artist Tasneem Sarkez, a two-month residency in Tunisia did not  introduce a new direction so much as the relocation of an existing methodology. Her paintings  have frequently drawn from the visual languages of commerce, popular culture and everyday life, assembling found imagery into compositions that investigate how cultural signifiers acquire meaning. During her residency, that inquiry shifted from digital circulation toward the city’s 
    physical media, where the graphic vernacular of Tunis became her source material. Walking through the city, Sarkez accumulated an archive or image bank of visual fragments: taxi decals, beauty salon posters, bootleg CD covers, newspaper typography, shopping bags, souvenir postcards and commercial signage. Rather than functioning as documentary records of place, these materials undergo a process of photocollage in which they were cut apart, recombined and tested against one another before becoming paintings. Composition, in this sense, precedes representation as the works begin not with observation but with assembly.

     

    This logic extends an ongoing concern within Sarkez’s practice. Across different contexts, cars, portraits of Arab women, commercial graphics, found text and consumer objects recur throughout her work as mutable signifiers whose meanings alter according to context. The residency reframed this vocabulary through the vernacular of Tunisia and, more broadly, the urban landscapes of North Africa. As Sarkez has described it, her practice involves “translating  these abstract concepts such as Arab femininity, the language of commercial products, and  ironic aesthetics of luxury and cars, to an audience that might not know otherwise”. Translation  therefore takes place not only between cultures or languages, but between media themselves:  typography to composition, advertisement to painting, printed ephemera to pictorial form, commercial graphics to still life. If earlier works frequently drew upon images circulating online, the works produced here are  noticeably less about “the internet” as an abstract condition and much more about physical  circulation. The artist is not mining Google Images or social media so much as walking through  Tunis and paying attention to the visual debris that accumulates in the city. Sarkez’s paintings 
    are therefore concerned less with objects than with habits of looking. Women’s faces already  cropped by advertising. A banner sign normally read unconsciously. English phrases that have  become translated and detached from meaning. Taxi decals that promise safety. The artist is  consistently interested in images that have become automatic and in interrupting that  automaticity. 


    In Top Women, where the title — borrowed from the language of popular music and commercial design — is already charged with associations before being severed from its original context.  Cropped female portraits drawn from fading beauty posters resist portraiture and embody  advertisement, commodity, stereotype and icon alike. Likewise, All What You Need layers the  aspirational symbolism of the Mercedes emblem with the visual language of commercial slogans and newspaper typography. Luxury, consumption and political symbolism coexist within the same pictorial field without being pinned into one single narrative. Underlying these works is an attempt to locate, or perhaps construct, a painterly vernacular  that has yet to be fully named, not as an essentialised “Arab aesthetic”, but as a contemporary visual language. It is less concerned with translating Arabness into forms that become more legible to Western audiences than with insisting on the ordinary density of the Arab present:  commercial graphics, vernacular humour, beauty culture, luxury fantasies and digital habits. Many of these references remain deliberately opaque. Seen from within a diasporic consciousness, the paintings are a response to a larger question: What kinds of images are Arabs permitted to produce of themselves in the present tense?


    Racha Khemiri
    Tunis. June 2026