Framed in the window of the Museum of Contemporary Art Kiasma, which forms part of the Finnish National Gallery in Helsinki, is a tremendous fuchsia inflatable that beckons visitors across the Töölö Bay. Benzene Float (Kekulene) (2023) looks like it belongs in a carnival, but the curvilinear structure is in fact a giant version of a molecule that occurs naturally in crude oil and as a by-product in the oil industry. The Senegalese-born Kuwaiti artist Monira Al Qadiri harnesses these notes of light and shade, joy and horror, in her art as she addresses the pervasive role of oil in the global economy. Rooted in her childhood experience of the Persian Gulf, Al Qadiri’s sculptures and videos reflect upon the seductive and sinister resonances of oil and its lucrative extraction.

Deep Fate, the title ofAl Qadiri’s first solo show in the Nordic region, alludes to the predestined grip of oil on humanity and compares the shadowy tendrils of its influence to the deep state. Oil manifests in different guises in the exhibition at Kiasma—some more obvious and some more violent than others. The jubilant rainbow on the surface of oil and water, known as “thin-film interference”, runs throughout. It coats two enlarged drill bits that spin rather impotently on the gallery floor (Alien Technology (Diamond) (2023) and Future Past 3 (2023)), and a series of wall-hanging sculptures inspired by the cross sections of steel cables used to transport oil (NAWA (2023)). The installation is named after the ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs “N-W-H” as well as the Japanese word for “rope”. That’s where Al Qadiri was educated; she received her PhD in 2010 from the Tokyo University of the Arts. The festive feeling of the floral patterns that appear marvellously belies their origin.

Three iridescent Benzene inflatables loom overhead in the main gallery, named for the petrochemicals Tetrakis, Methylstyryl and Naphthalene (all 2024). Their presence is bodily and suffocating. They can’t help but draw the eye to a nearby bathtub filled with black epoxy and acrylic (Deep Float (2017)), where two outstretched arms suggest someone has succumbed to temptation and drowned in oil. Al Qadiri notes that the substance was once viewed as a medical cure; crude oil baths are still a remedy in Azerbaijan for muscular, skin and bone complaints. Perhaps in a post-fossil-fuel world, we might find ourselves returning to this way of thinking and clinging to oil for the sake of our health.

Al Qadiri uses the mother-of-pearl effect further to tie the oil industry to the ancient business of pearl diving in the Persian Gulf. This is, again, a personal history for Al Qadiri, whose grandfather was a singer on a pearling boat before the arrival of oil. Sumptuous drill heads, carved from natural pearls by a Japanese pearl carver and placed in aquarium tanks, are a brilliantly abrasive fusion of the two worlds (Wonder, 2016−18). If a pearl becomes a form of defence for molluscs against invading bacteria, then here, the machinery used to excavate oil is made into a parasite.

The key to understanding Al Qadiri’s practice can be found in Behind the Sun (2013), the earliest work in the exhibition. Through the shaky footage of a handheld camera by a local journalist, Al Qadiri leads us through the apocalyptic landscape of Kuwait’s blazing oil fields. She witnessed these scenes as a child, when the retreating Iraqi army set fire to some 700 oil wells at the end of the Gulf War. However, it was German filmmaker Werner Herzog’s documentary, Lessons of Darkness (1992), which showed the burning fields to a soundtrack of Wagner, that spurred her to reclaim the history from a European perspective. Al Qadiri’s film looks like hell on earth—the sky blackened with smoke and the earth scorched with flames. Sufi poetry can be heard in the background, recounting the wonders of nature. The surreal meeting of these words and images makes the events seem inconceivable, fantastical even.

Other childhood recollections that tread the line between reality and invented memory suffuse the video Crude Eye (2022). Al Qadiri pans over the model of an oil refinery, illuminating towers, vessels and pipes to a soundtrack of eerie synth music and a voice describing “the palace by the water”. Through a child’s eyes, “the castle of a person or a deity” with its rows of “rubies and emeralds” becomes the protagonist of an imagined tale. Storytelling is also the foundation of the video and sculpture comprising The Guardian (2023), inspired by the verdant plant Calotropis Procera that grows in the Arabian desert and whose sap causes blindness. Also known as the Jinn Tree and Apple of Sodom, the plant conjures associations with the tales of Arabian mythology and Christian morality. For Al Qadiri, the Calotropis Procera is a symbol of man’s barbed relationship with nature and the poison chalice of excavating its resources.

Deep Fate marks the beginning of an extraordinary Nordic season for Al Qadiri, with solo shows at Gothenburg Museum of Art, Sweden (May 10−November 9, 2025) and Arken, south of Copenhagen, Denmark (November 13−April 6, 2026). This flurry of regional interest is a remarkable coincidence, but one that reflects Al Qadiri’s burgeoning reputation after the spotlight of high profile international exhibitions like the Sharjah Biennial (2025, 2023), 24th Biennale of Sydney (2024), the 58th Carnegie International (2022−23) and the 59th Venice Biennale (2022)—to name a few. It only seems a shame that a Norwegian institution is missing, given the huge significance of oil and gas to Norway’s economy. Equally, it’s curious that the three museums have not acknowledged one another. In any case, this first stop on the unofficial Nordic tour is a haunting reckoning with the fate of fossil fuels and a world, both real and imagined, whose fortunes are entwined with oil.

Monira Al Qadiri’s solo exhibition ‘Deep Fate’ is on view at the Museum of Contemporary Art Kiasma, Finland, from March 21–September 7, 2025.

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