At the core of Tasneem Elnayal’s artistic practice is the presence of our collective histories and the viscerality of personal experience. In this conversation, the London-based Sudanese artist and art director reflects on the impact of Sudan’s political landscape, her journey through grief and hope, and drawing strength from memory while making space for new experiences.
Allowing Things To Feel Right
“I wouldn’t call myself a perfectionist, but I allow things to feel right”, Tasneem explains as she sits in her studio in London, surrounded by her artwork, each piece warmly framing our conversation. Being both an artist and spectator allows Tasneem to engage with art beyond the finished piece, anchoring her in a layered appreciation and approach to the creation process. “If there were a way to truly feel and understand what the artist has gone through while creating, that in itself would be art”, she adds, poetically. Embracing the flexible intuition of her creative process, Tasneem gravitates towards using oil paints over acrylics, embracing their longer drying time as an opportunity for spontaneous decisions in between.
“While I wait for one layer to dry, I am forced to step back, reflect and think about something else for a second”.
Tasneem works in an abstract style inspired by figurative art, expressionism, and the Hurrufiya movement; an artistic experimentation pushing the boundaries of traditional Islamic calligraphy by morphing the letters into abstract shapes. Using organic forms to depict figures and tell stories rather than striving for realism ‘keeps the interpretation open’, she explains. Influenced by the incredibly rich landscapes, architecture and culture of Sudan, she primarily uses warm, earthy colors that express her deep connection to the soil and its people. This is often embedded in a subtle but unwavering symbolism.
Between Memories And Absence
Tasneem’s last visit to Sudan was in 2022 — post-revolution and pre-war. “There was so much hope in the air”, she recalls. “Everyone believed in a better future because we were in the middle of a government transition that felt promising”. Tasneem’s memories of Sudan are tied to Haqeeba music, Nubian architecture, the smell of Bakhoor (incense), and moments of togetherness such as wedding receptions or late-night drives along the Nile with her cousins.
“At 1 AM or 2 AM, we’d jump in the car, drive to the river, and stop at a coffee or tea stand. We’d play cards, have the best conversations, and just be present. No distractions, no phones — just laughter and community”.
Reminiscing about the warmth of summers spent at her grandmother’s home in Bahri, where a guava tree once flourished in the backyard, we discussed that the house carries the soul of the family. Picking the ripest fruit straight from its branch is a childhood memory that would later inspire her painting The Guava That Bloomed Again, rich in deep, warm tones and warping dream-like figures. “With everything happening in Sudan, I dream of rebuilding the house one day — and planting that same guava tree again”, she unpacks, sharing the bittersweet moment when the tree had to be cut down.
The Guava That Bloomed Again by Tasneem Elnayal, 2023
Credits: Shams Al-Fekaiki
The Bed That Carries A Whole Nation
During Ramadan, on April 15th 2023, war erupted between the Sudanese Armed Forces (SAF) and the Rapid Support Forces (RSF), plunging the nation into violence, displacement, genocide and famine. Sudan’s landscapes and livelihood experienced near immediate upheaval. With war raging its surface and core, this pain has spread along the arms of the diaspora. “When the war happened, my practice and perspective shifted. I couldn’t paint for a while”, Tasneem admits. She had been working on a piece inspired by the Sudanese saying, “كان طابت النية العنقريب بشيل مية” [“If people’s intentions are pure, the angareeb can carry a hundred“]. Honoring the angareeb, a furniture staple in the Sudanese household. A wooden bed frame accompanying families through daily life and rites of passage — birth, weddings, henna celebrations and funerals. Months later, eventually finding her way back to the canvas, Tasneem felt compelled to create the piece mass massacre, referencing June 6th 2024, when up to one hundred and fifty people were brutally killed by the RSF in the village Wad Al-Nora in Al-Jazira State. The body of each martyr was carried to their grave on an angareeb.
The Angareeb Can Carry A Hundred, 2024, Credits: Tasneem Elnayal
At first glance, both paintings appear almost identical, yet they carry different emotions. Through these works, Tasneem transforms collective mourning into something tangible. An act of remembrance and resistance. “I wanted to show both the grief and the joy”, she explains, displaying the duality of the angareeb: one cradles a hundred people gathered in unity as a symbol of community and unwavering hospitality, while the other carries the dead to their final resting place.
Freedom Will Come
For Tasneem, artistic practice has more potential than acting simply as personal expression. It’s a means of bearing witness and holding solidarity. “As someone who goes to protests, boycotts for both Sudan and Palestine, and stands by family and friends, my way of sharing and spreading awareness is through art”, she explains. It is through this lens that Freedom Will Come was born — a visual tribute to the struggles of both peoples, united at one table, “because we are all one”. Approaching this piece, the artist shifts the voyeuristic perspective, symbolising the spirit of resistance rather than redepicting the horrific realities of genocide. “For many of us, Palestine has been in our hearts since day one. We have known about the suffering long before the recent escalation”.
Freedom Will Come (2023) displays The Kuffiyeh, Olives, Watermelon and Pomegranate — all globally recognised iconography for the Palestinian land and struggle. Additionally, Tasneem incorporates Jabana coffee, gold, and Sudanese Bakhoor (incense), elements of Sudanese everyday life. Another central motif in the painting is the white Toube, a traditional garment worn by working Sudanese women.
Freedom Will Come, 2023, Credits: Tasneem Elnayal
It also carries a revolutionary significance, referencing the iconic image of Alaa Salah, a Sudanese woman draped in a white Toube, standing atop a car, leading chants during the December Revolution. A revolutionary, fearless spirit that transcends the canvas.
Freedom Will Come displays another significant motif: a natural resource, unknowingly bearing a heavy weight on the advent of war. One of the first big articles on the early escalations in Sudan that hit the media, was a news piece expressing concern over Gum Arabic, a resin for which Sudan is the world’s largest exporter. “As if that’s the priority for the people and the land”, says Tasneem, pointing to a deeper issue at hand: a lack of critical thinking and humanism in application to Sudanese life. “This is a war fueled by external powers, heavily backed by the United Arab Emirates, which has been supplying arms to the RSF militia. Just as people boycott for Palestine, they should also boycott for Sudan”.
In our conversation, Tasneem addresses two widely perpetrated hindrances to liberation, the first being the portrayal of Sudan’s reality as a ‘civil war’. “When people hear ‘civil war,’ they brush it off as a problem confined to that country – something that doesn’t affect them, so why should they care?”
The second uncomfortable, swept-aside truth to the silence surrounding Sudan: Anti-Blackness. “A lot of people have become desensitized to seeing Black bodies suffer and die. It’s as if they think we should be used to it”, she says. “But there is no such thing as ‘getting used to’ suffering — it’s just racism”.
The Road Ahead
When asked about the future, Tasneem admits she doesn’t dwell too much on long-term goals. “I was able to create paintings that explore Sudan through memory and nostalgia, especially being away from home”, referencing the themes of Memory and Absence, her first solo exhibition in London at the beginning of the year. “Moving forward, I want to explore my new memories and experiences, surrounded by familiar language and food”, she shares. “I think that will involve travel, and for now, that’s the plan”.
Showing great promise as an artist, art director, and interpreter of socio-politics and emotion, Tasneem’s figurative expressions and warm oil paintings make her the one to watch. Here’s to painting under the shade of blooming guava trees in a soon free Sudan, InshAllah.
