Alia Alkhalfah

Dr Rachna Singh, Editor, The Wise Owl talks to Alia Alkhalfah, a Syrian artist based in Dubai. Alia is a self-taught artist and painter currently residing in Dubai, UAE.  Using an impressionist style, her inspiration is gathered mostly from personal experiences, which stem from a lot of observation of nature in all its forms.  She is particularly drawn to the heart of our planet, the ocean. As a seascape artist, Alia holds herself responsible for creating artwork that challenges her artistically and emotionally and connects her to the world. She has participated in several prestigious solo and group art shows across the world.

 

Thank you for taking the time out to talk with The Wise Owl about your art and creative process. It was such a pleasure to connect with you at World Art, Dubai.

 

RS:  Alia your work beautifully captures the essence of the ocean using a cool blue palette. What does the color blue represent to you personally, and why does it dominate your artistic vocabulary?

 

AA: Blue is often seen as a symbol of calmness, tranquility, and purity — and naturally, because my work revolves around the ocean, blue takes a prominent place. But the truth is, my palette is far more layered than it may seem.

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I rarely use a color straight from the tube; I find them too flat, too one-dimensional. Every color in my work is mixed, shifted, and tempered, adjusting the warmth, the coolness, and the mood, to bring more depth and life. I blend shades of green, yellow, purple, grey, and even brown into the blues, creating subtle variations that echo the complexity of the sea.

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When I paint, I'm not just painting the color blue. I'm painting everything the ocean reflects; because the ocean itself is transparent, or colorless. What we perceive is a living tapestry: the depth of life beneath the surface, the dance of light, the vastness of the sky above.

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In truth, all the colors of nature find their way into my work. But because we are sheltered by a blue sky, blue naturally emerges as the dominant note, like the melody that carries all the other sounds.

 

RS: You describe the ocean as both an emotional and spiritual muse. Could you share a personal experience or moment by the sea that profoundly shaped your artistic direction?

 

AA: The most powerful feature of the sea, in my view, is its constancy in change. It is never still, it’s always being moved by the wind, by internal currents, by the orbit of the planets, and by the phenomenon of tides. The sea is a reactive element, constantly shifting, and in turn, creating a domino effect across the cycle of nature.

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I started painting the sea during the COVID-19 lockdown, at a time when life itself felt like it had paused. It wasn’t a painting inspired by a particular occasion; it was more of an experiment. But while I was creating that first ocean painting, something inside me shifted. It felt like life resumed, even though I was locked alone in my apartment.

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It felt like an epiphany of resilience. I realized that I was finally enjoying the process of creating art for its own sake, rather than painting just to reach a final product that would then be judged by others based on subjective ideas of beauty and worth.

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That first ocean painting was my special moment by the sea, the moment that profoundly changed my artistic direction.

 

RS: Being self-taught, how has your independent learning shaped your creative voice? Were there any pivotal moments or challenges that deepened your commitment to painting?

 

AA: Being self-taught has played a huge role in shaping my creative voice. It gave me the freedom to explore without constraints; to learn through intuition, trial, error, and curiosity. But it also meant facing intense moments of self-doubt, questioning whether I could truly make it in the art world without formal training.

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I've been drawing and painting since I was a child, and I've been exhibiting my work and making sales since 2018. Yet, having studied finance — a field so far from art — sometimes made others view my work as just a hobby. That perception led to moments of disappointment, and even despair. But my character thrives on challenges. So I learned to channel those feelings into a deeper determination to pursue what I’ve always loved.

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A pivotal moment came when I started painting the ocean, not to impress anyone, but to stay connected to something alive and ever-changing. It was then I realized that perfection wasn’t the goal. Letting go of control, embracing the process, and painting from a place of truth became the foundation of my work.

 

RS: Oil painting, with its depth and richness, seems to be your chosen medium. What is it about oil paint that continually draws you back, and how do you use it to express the ocean’s complexity?

 

AA:  Oil paint — the medium chosen by the fathers of Impressionism — is dynamic, flowing, versatile, and extremely rich. What I love most about it is how the colors continue to evolve over time, becoming deeper and more vibrant through the oxidation process as they dry.

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Painting with oil is not easy or straightforward. When I first tried it, I quickly realized it demanded more from me; it forced me to teach myself techniques and methodology in order to create a painting that was not only expressive but also well-balanced and structurally sound.

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In many ways, I feel the behaviour of oil paint mirrors the behavior of the ocean: dynamic, flowing, constantly changing, and deeply affected by its environment. Interestingly, if you place a drop of oil paint in water, it won’t mix. It resists, it floats, and it moves on its own terms.

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To me, oil and the ocean are reflections of one another. No other medium, in my view, speaks better to the complexity and spirit of the sea.

 

RS: Your brushwork creates an impressionistic harmony that feels both intuitive and intentional. How do you strike a balance between structure and spontaneity when painting a seascape?

 

AA: Balancing structure and spontaneity is always my main challenge. I usually start by painting in stages: beginning with a quick small sketch, then imagining and setting the dimensions, and finally creating an underpainting using burnt umber and yellow ochre to visualize the overall composition.

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As I start adding layers, I sometimes feel restricted, and that's when I naturally shift toward spontaneity and free exploration. But this transition isn’t automatic. It takes courage and a lot of trust in myself. With each new layer, my confidence grows as I create contrasting brushstrokes to build light and shadow, something that fascinates me deeply.

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And this is close to the impressionist process: because waves are constantly moving, I add different brushstrokes for every single wave, often using different colors. My paintings are built over multiple layers, where each wave is shaped through various colors and textures. This layering allows me to blend brushstrokes and create the sense of real movement across the seascape.

Some paintings seem to paint themselves, while others I struggle with more. Either way, it’s always a learning curve, and every painting teaches me something new.

 

RS: Nature plays a huge role in your art. How do you observe and translate the subtle behaviors of natural elements—like the movement of waves or shifting light—onto the canvas?

 

AA: When I observe nature, I focus not just on the objects themselves, but on everything that surrounds them, and how they behave together. When you draw a branch, you also need to feel the breath of the wind that moves it.

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As an artist, I believe one of my greatest advantages is the way I perceive my surroundings as a living, breathing whole. Painting water brings many challenges, but the most complex (and the most rewarding) is capturing something that is always in motion. To paint the sea, you have to understand how it moves. This isn’t something you can fully grasp from a static reference photo; it comes from a lot of real, in-person observation.

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I spend time studying how waves interlock and overflow onto each other, how life beneath the surface appears and disappears with the movement of the water, how sunlight sparkles at the crest of a wave and diffuses as it pours into the life below.

When I can’t be near the ocean, I study water at home by moving a glass of water around, dropping small splashes to watch the ripple effect, and observing how circles form and disappear.

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Painting the sea isn’t about stacking different shades of blue. It’s about understanding how to translate an element in constant motion, one that is influenced by everything around it, onto a still, lifeless, and silent canvas.

 

RS: You’ve mentioned that the ocean teaches us humility, harmony, courage, and gratitude. How do these themes find their way into your work, both visually and conceptually?

 

AA: Since I started painting seascapes, I realised how powerful the ocean’s characteristics are.

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Humility appears in the way I often let endless horizons and deep, boundless waters dominate the canvas. They serve as a quiet reminder of how small we are in the face of nature’s grandeur.

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Harmony emerges through the movement of the brushstrokes and the blending of colors. How currents, waves, and light coexist without force or conflict. I try to capture the natural flow, allowing different elements to breathe together in one composition.

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Courage comes through the contrasts: the turbulent waters, the sudden shifts in mood or light. I am drawn to portraying the ocean not just when it's calm, but when it’s wild, unpredictable, and raw, reflecting the bravery it takes to face life’s uncertainties and tackling our emotions.

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Gratitude is perhaps the soul of every piece. It’s in the reverence for detail, the care in capturing fleeting moments of light on water, and the deep appreciation for the beauty that exists even in the most transient scenes.

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Visually and conceptually, my seascapes aren’t just about depicting the ocean. They are about embodying its lessons.

 

RS: As an artist working from Dubai, how does your environment influence your perspective, and do you find echoes of the Gulf’s own waters in your seascapes?

 

AA: Working from Dubai, I’ve realized that today, being an artist isn’t tied to a specific place. Thanks to technology, location doesn’t really limit you anymore. Art finds its way across borders.

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I don’t expect my work to be everyone’s cup of tea, but it’s incredible to see how it still resonates with so many people, in different corners of the world.

 

Water has always felt like a perfect subject for that. It’s something that connects all of us: it’s in our bodies, and it covers most of our planet. It’s powerful, unpredictable, and essential, just like emotions, and just like art.

 

Living by the Gulf’s waters definitely plays a role in my work. I love observing small details, like if we’re on a yacht cruise, you will always find me drawn to the lower deck near the motor, just watching how the engine stirs up the water and forms foam, causing the colours of the sea to change yet blend together so naturally. That kind of movement and layering shows up a lot in my seascapes.

 

At the same time, my inspiration isn’t limited to the Gulf. I’m deeply influenced by the Mediterranean, the Aegean, and the English Channel in the North Sea.

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Sometimes, even a small lake hidden in a Dubai neighbourhood can spark an idea for a painting.

 

Being an artist today means much more than just painting; there’s a whole world of unseen work behind each canvas, from building an online presence to handling the administrative side of a creative career. But at the heart of it all remains the same calling: to capture and share the powerful, ever-changing spirit of water.

 

Thank you Alia for talking to The Wise Owl. We wish you success in all your creative endeavours.

 

AA: It was a pleasure meeting you. Thank you for the thoughtful questions and for giving me the opportunity to share a piece of my story and a glimpse into my creative path.