With a combination of generous investment, international brands, and fast-growing local institutions, Abu Dhabi is staking a claim as a new capital of culture.

Exploring Emirati history at Lest We Forget, inside Madar_39. (Courtesy of Madar_39)

Flowers might struggle to bloom in the desert, but approached from some angles, Abu Dhabi’s Saadiyat Island resembles nothing less than a garden. On a sliver of land jutting into the coral-blue waters of the Persian Gulf, a range of fantastical shapes stretch skyward, vying for attention: the graceful, wing-like wind towers crowning what will be the Zayed National Museum; the slender columns of the inter- denominational Abrahamic Family House; the vast latticed dome of the Louvre Abu Dhabi; and the unruly cluster of blocks and cylinders that make up the local outpost of the Guggenheim Museum. The combined effect is both dazzling and a little disorienting.

Perhaps nowhere else have so many architectural styles—or creative ambitions—been so quickly concentrated in a single place. For if glitzier sister Dubai has seized the title of the United Arab Emirates’ leading entrepot, Abu Dhabi is determined to become the nation’s cultural, along with political, capital. Saadiyat Cultural District is the epicenter of this quest; a project of staggering scope, and cost—US$1 billion has been invested in the Guggenheim alone—that aims at nothing less than standing as “a testament to the transformative power of art and culture in shaping understanding, fostering dialogue, and building connections across the globe,” according to the chairman of Abu Dhabi’s Department of Culture and Tourism, Mohamed Khalifa Al Mubarak.

Saadiyat is still a work in progress. The Louvre, a relatively early arrival, debuted in 2017, with a collection blending work on loan from partner institutions in France and a permanent collection of art and archaeological treasures from across the great civilizations. The Zayed National Museum, which will showcase the history and development of the UAE, will open in December 2025, while the more contemporary-oriented Guggenheim is expected to begin welcoming visitors sometime next year.

On my visit, the most recent international arrival is teamLab Phenomena Abu Dhabi, the latest outpost of an expanding Tokyo-based art collective known for its all-encompassing digital creations. Having barely absorbed the undulations of the building’s striking, eggshell-white exterior, I’m ushered into the near-total darkness of the lobby, a blank slate designed to prime the senses for what follows.

Rather than being an art gallery in any traditional sense, teamLab Phenomena is perhaps best understood as a platform for immersive experiences. It is intensely visual but also involves scent, sound, and other sensations; some exhibits even require the visitor to wade through ankle-deep water. I move unsteadily through a series of cavernous rooms where colors erupt on floor-to-ceiling pillars that mimic a forest; an immense black globe hovering midair swells until it threatens to fill the entire space; and a thin latticework floor suspends me within a sphere, where the rush of cold air and crystalline shapes resembling new life forms, spontaneously unfolding and multiplying, buffet me on all sides. For all the technology involved, the cumulative effect is strangely organic, clearly created to overwhelm and to elude all attempts at capture—though that doesn’t stop the legions of selfie-taking guests from trying.

It would be easy to see teamLab Phenomena, and indeed Saadiyat as a whole, as emblematic of Abu Dhabi’s art and culture scene: massive in scale, heavily technology-dependent, and fueled by eye-watering amounts of capital. But beneath the higher-profile projects beats the heart of something more complex, and—I would argue—potentially more rewarding for the patient explorer. This is a city in the process of establishing its creative identity, and learning—sometimes to the surprise of those based here—that it could prove a wellspring for a large part of the world.

Left to right: The Jean Nouvel–designed Louvre Abu Dhabi; Iris Projects founder Maryam Al Falasi.

Or as Maryam Al Falasi puts it: “We’re on the brink of our own renaissance.” As the founder of Iris Projects, an initiative dedicated to emerging Emirati and regional artists, she would know. We’re at Iris Projects’ gallery in the up-and-coming MiZa (Mina Zayed) district, where Al Falasi is walking me through an exhibition of works by Saudi artist Abdullah Al Othman, who assembles metal, neon lights, and the remnants of commercial signs into ornate installations that distill the dynamism of the Gulf’s rapidly changing cities. The exhibit in many ways exemplifies Iris’s mission: to champion a new generation of artists, focused on experimentation and exploration of local identity. For all the big-name institutions that have shown up on Abu Dhabi’s shores, “there’s no gallery focused on regional artists per se,” Al Falasi says. “I saw that as a gap in the market.”

Even in Iris’s relatively short history, Al Falasi has witnessed both interest in regional art and Abu Dhabi’s stature as an art center rising. “International audiences are slowly being intro- duced to our art, and I think it’s very interesting because for them this is something almost completely new,” she explains. “Young Emirati collectors are also focusing on regional artists, because at the end of the day they want something that reflects who they are, and where they come from.”

Abu Dhabi, as she sees it, is the ideal platform for all these interests to meet, due to its relative wealth, the growing presence of local and international institutions, and steadfast government support. “It’s a well-rounded ecosystem,” Al Falasi says. “We have the foundations, galleries, collectors, and artists. They all work together, and that’s what makes it unique.”

Left to right: The atrium at Madar_39, Abu Dhabi’s first dedicated space for cultural and creative entrepreneurs; Iris Projects hosted the first solo exhibition of Dubai-based artist Alyazia Al Nahyan earlier this year. (Courtesy of Madar_39; Courtesy of Iris Projects)

Also unique is the context Iris Projects inhabits—not just the MiZa district, whose dusty, largely abandoned streets and cavernous warehouses recall its legacy as a working port, but more specifically Madar_39, Abu Dhabi’s first dedicated space for cultural and creative entrepreneurs. Occupying a light-infused building where steel girders and cement surfaces nod to the area’s industrial past, the relatively new facility has already attracted an exceptional roster of tenants. Apart from the studio of American artist Christopher Benton, there’s Lest We Forget, an archival and research collective that assembles exhibitions exploring Emirati history; The Noor Creative, a shop dedicated to local craftsmanship and design; and Asateer, which creates beautiful products from mother-of-pearl and other raw materials.

The eye-catching work on display and youthful cohort milling around give Madar_39 an air of energy and possibility. It’s an atmosphere that director Dr. Alamira Reem Al Hashimi—an accomplished urban planner and author in her own right—says has been cultivated deliberately.

“Our mission is to help creatives transform their passions into livelihoods by providing space, community, programming, and an encouragement network that supports their growth,” she explains. “Entrepreneurship can often feel isolating, but bringing people together under one roof sparks unexpected conversations, meaningful connections, and a spirit of collaboration.”

Like Iris Projects’ Al Falasi, Al Hashimi believes Abu Dhabi is on the cusp of something pivotal. “The light is shining now on the creative and cultural economies,” she says. “The government is really encouraging these sectors to flourish, and we’re starting to feel a shift.”

Left to right: Stickers from The Noor Creative; Madar_39 director Dr. Alamira Reem Al Hashimi. (Courtesy of The Noor Creative; Photo: Anna Maria Nielsen)

Left to right: Faisal Al Hassan, the director of 421; a gigantic filigreed dome inspired by mashrabiya latticework covers the galleries and plazas at the Louvre Abu Dhabi. (Photos: Sam Rawadi; Department of Culture and Tourism Abu Dhabi)

Later the same day, I hear the sentiment echoed by Faisal Al Hassan, the director of 421—one of the first institutions to open its doors in MiZa. Converted from a pair of old port warehouses sheathed in rusty, perforated steel, 421 positions itself as a campus and platform for early-stage artists across the region, housing galleries, studios, educational facilities, and retail space.

“There’s a strong intention to continue expanding the arts scene in Abu Dhabi, most visibly through major investments in landmark institutions like the Guggenheim and the Louvre,” Al Hassan says. “While these projects are very important, at 421 we wanted to focus on a different layer of the ecosystem—emerging creative practitioners and those using the arts as a tool for social inquiry and transformation. We provide them with a supportive environment where they can experiment, grow, and build a sustainable practice.” 421 carries out this mission through grants, residency programs, and—happily for visitors—carefully curated exhibitions showcasing promising talent that often has yet to fully appear on the mainstream cultural radar.

On my visit, much of the gallery space is given over to work from recent graduates of the Master of Fine Arts offered by the Abu Dhabi campus of New York University, the first program of its kind in the region. 421 affords free rein to large-scale installations from Jude Maharmeh, who assembles materials like clay tiles into abstract echoes of the urban landscape, and Danutė Vaitekūnaitė, a Lithuanian-born artist whose colorful, painstakingly constructed dioramas evoke the world of childhood.

There to guide me through the exhibition are possibly the most approachable set of labels I’ve ever seen in a gallery or museum context. In both English and Arabic, long words and weighty concepts are marked with arrows that lead to plain-language explanations; phrases in bold distill the highlights for the time-pressed while playful questions encourage further contemplation for those who can afford to relax.

“Accessibility, care, inclusion, and critical engagement are central to our ethos,” Al Hassan explains. “We’re mindful that art spaces can sometimes feel intimidating, so we place an emphasis on creating meaningful, welcoming ways for everyone to engage with the work.” Providing even more reasons to linger are 421’s extensive library and reading room, a play area offering an assortment of hands-on activities for children, and the Dukkan421 design store, which stocks an eclectic range of publications, stationery, and homewares by local creatives.

421’s industrial-inspired exterior. (Courtesy of 421 Arts Campus)

Venues like 421 have been attracting more local and international traffic of late, in part due to a surge of events that aim to raise awareness and cement Abu Dhabi’s status as a regional—and increasingly, global—art hub. This focus isn’t entirely new: the emirate’s first landmark contemporary arts venue, the multifaceted Cultural Foundation, launched in 1981 just outside the whitewashed walls of the historic Qasr Al Hosn fort; today, it hosts Arabic calligraphy workshops, theater performances, and year-round exhibitions showcasing regional artists. But the momentum has ratcheted up in recent years with the Public Art Abu Dhabi Biennial, which debuted in 2024 with a roster of works and interactive experiences from 78 different artists; and the annual Abu Dhabi Festival, with its emphasis on musical performances.

The crown jewel of the art event circuit is Abu Dhabi Art, a fair staged each November that has become a calendar fixture for artists, curators, galleries, and collectors throughout the Gulf and farther afield. While held in the Manarat Al Saadiyat, a massive event space with an intricate latticework facade, the fair’s influence spreads far wider. For the week or so it runs, practically the entire city is consumed with exhibitions, lectures, parties, and pop-up restaurants.

The growth of the fair has been such that director Dyala Nusseibeh freely admits struggling to keep up. “There were 37 galleries participating when I joined in 2016,” she tells me. “Last year, we were more than 100, and this year, we’ll be more still—all because of this growing appetite for collecting.”

Abu Dhabi Art certainly features its share of artistic luminaries and large deals—in 2024, a work on offer by renowned Malian textile artist Abdoulaye Konaté was scooped up by a major international museum for over US$200,000—but Nusseibeh also sees the promotion of fledgling or relatively underappreciated artists, contemporary and historical, as a key mission. Many feature in the festival’s “Emerge” category, which focuses on work priced at under US$3,000, while a “Special Projects” initiative supports galleries that would typically struggle to afford a place on the festival circuit by offering discounted space.

“We’re trying to be thoughtful about how to be a catalyst and platform for the region and the Global South, so we work with galleries to present artists from the region who maybe haven’t had their full dues or been researched enough, complementing the work that academics and curators are doing through a commercial lens,” Nusseibeh explains. An example in 2024 was a booth devoted to Inji Efflatoun, a pioneering Egyptian female artist and activist whose surrealist explorations of class and gender dislocation now seem more relevant than ever.

For Nusseibeh, this points to an opportunity for the fair—and by extension, Abu Dhabi—to build links not only between artists, audiences, and buyers, but also across time and space. Through exhibitions of artifacts and historical objects, and by juxtaposing work from different regions, “we’ve found amazing correspondences,” Nusseibeh says. “We had an exhibition last year that explored ties between the Arab world and South America, which, through migration, go back 100 years. So we go from the local to the regional to the whole architecture between regions, bringing that into the fair context and the galleries we work with.”

For now, it may not be precisely clear just when the Guggenheim will open its doors, or when the entire grand vision for Saadiyat Cultural District becomes an on-the-ground reality. But with local institutions and museums like the Louvre alike working, as Nusseibeh puts it, to put a broader spectrum of artists and art histories “on equal footing,” it seems to me that Abu Dhabi is already home to a convergence of conversations and creative forces that make it a vital locus of the art world—and an increasingly vibrant city to explore.

Left to right: The main exhibition hall at Abu Dhabi’s Cultural Foundation; the plaza outside Qasr Al Hosn in the historic heart of town. (Photos: Martin Westlake)

This article originally appeared in the October/November 2025 print issue of DestinAsian magazine (“Creative Crossroads”). Buy a single issue or subscribe here.

Why Abu Dhabi’s Vibrant Art Scene is Well Worth a Look