
How an Omani artisan crafts stories in clay bringing tradition into the future
That's the world Fatema Al Muttawa is shaping with her hands every day. She's not just moulding clay; she's creating pieces that speak. Each of her ceramic works holds a story, a reflection of her homeland and her personal experiences. For her, clay isn't simply a material — it's a living thing that carries history and emotion.
Fatema's journey into the world of ceramics started with a simple question: 'Why don't I design my own mugs instead of importing ready-made ones?' It might seem like a small thought, but for her, it was the spark that ignited a whole new passion. Within just two years, she transformed her hobby into a full-fledged creative pursuit, and her work now exudes a freshness that belies her short time in the craft.
What makes Fatema's pieces truly stand out is her unique perspective on clay. Unlike many others, she sees the material as more than just a dirt to be shaped and fired. She believes clay is alive — it has a soul, a voice that calls to her. Her connection to clay is rooted in centuries of tradition, yet she explores it through a modern lens.
In Oman, pottery has a special place in history. For generations, Omani artisans have created beautiful, functional objects from clay, often decorated with intricate patterns that reflect the country's rich culture.
Bahla, in particular, is famous for its pottery. The ancient fort town has been a hub for ceramic artisans for centuries, with each vessel telling a story of the land and its people. Many of those designs, patterns, and techniques are passed down from father to son or mother to daughter, shaping Oman's identity. That depth of tradition is what Fatema respects and draws inspiration from, even if her work isn't always explicitly patterned.
For the newer generations of Omani artisans, embracing this traditional craft means reconnecting with their roots at a time when modernity often pushes ancient skills aside. It's more than just making pretty objects; it's about keeping alive a cultural identity, about honouring ancestors who shaped the craft with patience and humility. As Fatema puts it, 'Omani pottery is full of stories — stories of the land, of how we live, of poetry woven into everyday life.'
Poetry itself is a core part of Oman's cultural fabric. The tradition of storytelling and poetic expression is woven into daily life — a humble art that celebrates patience, history, and a sense of community. Unlike Western ceramics, which often lean towards the experimental and avant-garde, traditional Omani pottery is grounded, deliberate, and soulful. Fatema believes that understanding this difference helps her craft pieces that are both rooted in tradition and meaningful in today's world.
Interestingly, Fatema sources her clay from the UK. That might sound surprising — why not use local clay? She explains she combines the best of both worlds: by importing high-quality British clay, she achieves a level of precision and smoothness that's hard to find elsewhere. It's a balancing act between traditional spirit and modern techniques, bringing her closer to her artistic goals.
In her studio, each piece isn't just about aesthetics. There's emotion wrapped up in every fingerprint and every colour choice. Sometimes she leaves a fingerprint as a tiny mark — a reminder that a human hand touched this piece, that it embraces imperfection, humility, and authenticity. It's her way of telling people: here is a craft that's alive, direct from a person's heart.
Over time, Fatema's journey has not been without hurdles. Like many artists, she wrestles with logistics — getting her work shipped, marketing herself, finding the right audience. But she views these obstacles not as roadblocks, but as lessons. Her perspective is that every challenge is part of her craft, helping her grow and improve.
What's inspiring about Fatema's story is how she's part of a wider trend — people finding new ways to entertain themselves and express their creativity. Across the world, artists are exploring crafts like pottery, embroidery, or painting, not just to make a living, but to reconnect with traditions and delve into personal reflection. This rising movement is about more than just hobbies; it's about rediscovering a sense of purpose and mastery in a digital age often dominated by instant gratification.
As her creations begin to find audiences both locally and internationally, Fatema feels proud that she's helping to keep Oman's craft scene alive. She hopes her work inspires others, especially young women, to explore their cultural roots and see craft not just as a pastime, but as a meaningful way of life.

Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles


Muscat Daily
4 hours ago
- Muscat Daily
Oman pavilion at Expo 2025 Oska captivates thousands everyday
Muscat – Oman's pavilion at World Expo 2025 in Osaka, Japan has witnessed overwhelming response from international visitors since its opening on April 13 with over 5,000 to 6,000 people visiting daily. Located in the 'Saving Lives' zone of the expo, which is dedicated to sustainability, the pavilion presents Oman through the theme 'Water, Land and People'. The design connects these core elements that define Oman's identity and sustainable future with a blend of audiovisual storytelling and sensory experiences. Speaking to Muscat Daily from Japan, Amjad Nasser al Jadidi, Operations Manager of Oman's pavilion, said, 'The response has been incredible. The curiosity and queues never stop; visitors are genuinely curious about Oman beyond the stereotypical image of deserts and oil.' The pavilion features a captivating pre-show and main audiovisual experience that connects the core elements of water, land and people through powerful storytelling. Visitors then explore 'Water Corridor', a glass-covered simulation of Oman's traditional irrigation system (aflaj) and a wadi area, an open-air space reflecting the sultanate's natural landscapes. The sensory experience continues with scented bubbles infused with frankincense, locally curated Omani music and a pavilion-exclusive café menu. 'Our café offers signature drinks inspired by Omani flavours like cardamom, rose and clove,' said Jadidi. 'One unique item – Omani Halwa Mochi – merges Japanese and Omani traditions.' Screens throughout the pavilion share rich content on Oman's culture, tourism and investment opportunities. According to Jadidi, many Japanese visitors are surprised to learn about Oman's lush green mountains, pristine beaches and diverse culinary traditions. 'We're achieving our goal of reshaping perceptions and promoting the true essence of Oman. With its immersive design and cultural fusion, the pavilion is not only winning praise but also making lasting impressions of Oman on the global map.'


Observer
2 days ago
- Observer
Study urges action to preserve fading heritage
ON warm desert nights, when the air is thick with the scent of frankincense and the stars burn bright above the palm groves, Omani folktales come alive. They travel on the lips of elders, in the pauses between sips of kahwa, in the gentle rise and fall of voices telling of cunning foxes, enchanted trees, and lions turned to stone. These tales are not just entertainment — they are the memory of a people, stitched into words, passed from one generation's heart to the next. Yet today, those voices are growing faint. The steady hum of digital screens threatens to replace the crackle of fireside storytelling. Children are more likely to meet Cinderella than the Lion of Izki, to wander Little Red Riding Hood's forest before setting foot in the deserts or wadis of their own imagination. Fearing that this rich heritage might slip away, my colleagues, Fatema al Rubaiey and Gerard Dineen, and I — a research team at SQU embarked on a research journey to trace the fate of Omani folktales. With the generous support of SQU, we set out to answer a question that has grown more urgent with each passing year: are our stories still being told in their true voice, or are they slowly being reshaped, diluted, and forgotten in the rush of modern life? Using Hasan El Shamy's tale-type index, we examined dozens of Omani folktales published in English, tracing their origins, themes, and cultural markers. Many remained firmly rooted in the Omani landscape — stories of sacred places, tribal rivalries, and supernatural interventions that could only have been born here. 'The Lion of Izki' tells of a predator turned to stone through the power of faith. 'The Cunning Fox' reimagines the universal trickster with the sly resourcefulness of desert life. These narratives carry the scent of palm groves, the sound of falaj water, and the resilience of those who live between mountains and sea. But we also found tales altered beyond recognition or lifted from far-off lands: An Omani Cinderella and the escapades of Abu Nawas transplanted into unfamiliar villages. Even Little Red Riding Hood, far from her European forest, now roams Omani classrooms. Cultural exchange can enrich, but it becomes harmful when borrowed narratives crowd out our own. More troubling still, Omani folktales have no place on Unesco's list of intangible cultural heritage. Without official recognition or a systematic approach to collecting and classifying them, they remain unprotected. This absence leaves space for foreign tales to dominate, while authentic Omani stories fade from memory. Our research calls for a dedicated Omani tale-type classification system — one that complements regional Arab indexes but preserves the details that make our stories uniquely ours: the falaj, the desert winds, the sacred coastal landmarks, and the wisdom woven into local proverbs. Preserving these folktales is not about nostalgia. It is about safeguarding the cultural DNA that tells us who we are. If we do nothing, an entire generation could grow up knowing more about the adventures of Western princesses than the heritage of their own ancestors. This is a call to educators, cultural institutions, and policymakers: gather these stories, teach them, and celebrate them. Let them live not as fragile memories, but as living voices shaping our future. The digital age gives us the tools to record and share them more widely than ever before. The question is whether we will use those tools before the last storyteller's voice falls silent. The writer is an Associate Professor of English, Sultan Qaboos University


Observer
2 days ago
- Observer
After DJs and raves, Saudi pushes home-grown culture
First, deeply religious Saudi Arabia opened its doors to Western raves and music festivals. Now it's turning to long-neglected Saudi traditions as it seeks to draw tourists and reshape its national identity. In "Terhal", a lavish stage show in Riyadh, an actor in a red-and-white headdress gallops on a white horse, exploring the kingdom's heritage and top tourist sites. The move towards more wholesome, Saudi-inspired entertainment comes after raucous scenes at past music festivals in the capital. This year's Riyadh Season entertainment programme, which still features MDL Beast, will be "almost entirely comprised of Saudi and Gulf musicians", said Turki Alalshikh, chairman of the General Entertainment Authority. "The characteristic of Vision 2030 (Saudi Arabia's economic and social reform project) is always to test the borders," said Sebastian Sons of German think tank CARPO. "And if maybe two steps are too much, you take one step back." Terhal -- Arabic for journey -- blends traditional Saudi songs, chants and national dress with cutting-edge light shows and hi-tech equipment. It tells the story of Saad, a young Saudi exploring his home country, with 55 Saudis among its troupe of 100 acrobats, trapeze artists and dancers. 'Reframing and re-branding' - Until recently, Saudi culture was not widely championed, as authorities focused on the kingdom's status as the birthplace of Islam and home of its holiest sites. After DJs and raves, Saudi pushes home-grown culture But it is now embracing its traditions to help shape a national identity that is less austere and no longer tied to ultra-religious conservatism. "This reframing and re-branding of Saudi identity aligns modern arts and culture with traditional heritage and the legacy of Saudi Arabia," said Sons. Terhal "captures both the beauty of Saudi landscapes and the depth of its traditions, making them accessible to a broad audience", culture ministry spokesman Abdulrahman Almotawa told AFP. Artistic director Filippo Ferraresi said he conducted "extensive research" into Saudi culture, collaborating "with Saudi consultants, professors, and writers". "I discovered the different regions, their traditions, their dances, their music," he said. Until 2018, concerts and dancing were banned and women were forced to wear a head-covering or risk being flogged by the roving religious police. The opening-up under Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman, the de facto ruler, has since brought Formula One races, concerts by stars such as Jennifer Lopez, and an end to the notorious ban on women driving. The aim is to make Saudi Arabia more attractive to tourists and international business, helping the world's biggest oil exporter reduce its reliance on crude. After DJs and raves, Saudi pushes home-grown culture -'Untapped potential'- Entertainment was "at the nexus of the social and economic components" of Vision 2030, said Kristian Coates Ulrichsen of the Baker Institute at Rice University in the United States. It is "seen as not only a sector of large untapped potential that can contribute to economic diversification but also as a way to showcase the changes underway in Saudi Arabia", he said. Human rights groups accuse the kingdom of "art-washing" to obscure its poor human rights record, including a high rate of executions. "From a Western perspective, we often tend to dismiss such policies as mere art-washing. And of course, there is an element of instrumentalisation," said Sons. "But there are many creative minds in the country who deserve respect for the work they do." For Saudi dancer Talha Mas, 23, performing in Terhal was a "dream come true" -- twirling with her hair flowing freely, just a few years since head coverings were mandatory for women. Spectator Asser Saleh, 37, said he felt "proud" to see performances of this calibre in the Saudi capital. "Before, you had to go to Europe or the United States to see this type of show," the Egyptian said. —AFP