My literary journey had not been one of togetherness, but isolation.
This wasn’t how my life as a writer, or even as a reader, began. It started with mum, the bedside lamp, stringing together the sounds of letters I was learning to read. Grampy’s book suggestions and a library card. Stumbling on the heels of the person in front as my friend and I dissected the first four chapters of The Goblet of Fire till our words ran out and we were able once more to read over one another's shoulders, only turning the page when both of us were ready. I would write stories with my little brother and sister. We’d start with pencil, drawing maps of islands or mountain ranges, then populate them with the creatures and dragons our shared imaginations created. We’d annotate those pages with voices, strum ukulele and guitar melodies and sing the lyrics of our creations.
More recently, I have sat around the seminar table of Ardashir Vakhil and shared my stories with illustrators and poets as part of my MA in Childrens’ Literature. I’ve watched in awe as Michael Rosen danced through his stories, sought advice from Philip Pullman as I stuttered my way through a Covid-enforced Zoom interview. It was always in collaboration. Never alone. I spent the summer following my debut novel in Berlin with Antonia Luxem, a filmmaker and one half of Other People's Films, a London-based production company. I was struck by the synergy of the composers, visual artists, and writers whom Antonia counted as a part of her support network, with whom she could collaborate and share critique.
Upon moving to the UAE to teach History and Politics In 2022, I was intent upon finding this same network for myself, the spark of a collectivity that deepens our connections to the people that make life special, that can point our attention towards the light in brush strokes and the music worth playing on repeat.
This yearning resulted in the Dubai Writer's Community, founded in 2023 as an itinerant collective, borrowing tables in cafes at which writers could practise their craft and discuss their ideas. As we moved between Night Jar on Alserkal, Raw in Al Quoz, Le Pain Quotidien at Marina and even the Belgian Beer Cafe, our membership topped 1,000 enthusiastic and eclectic creatives.
But amidst the excitement was the sense that the patience of Dubai’s gastronomical venues was shortening, and that the group needed a permanent base from which it could grow. We have found that space at The Urban Artist.
The Urban Artist, before the recent renovations. It is a very different place today!
The Urban Artist, before the recent renovations. It is a very different place today!
In our studio, beside a ceramicist, visual artist and prop designer, Sahab Collective is the result of a shared vision in which emerging and established creatives can come together. It is inspired by the cohesion, structure and rigour of university seminars, the enthusiasm of an underground movement that spirals from cafe to cafe.
It is collaboration with respect for the necessity of studied silence and independence, an interdisciplinary collective that can ignite a broader passion for the arts and all that is beautiful. It is a call to try something new, and an invitation to see beyond what we are used to.
I hope you will join our Collective, and discover something special that will deepen your connection to the arts and to the people it inspires.
Soon, Louis Garratt
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