Bringing Egyptian Alabaster Back To Life. Interview with Omar Chakil

by Alexandra Mansilla

Bringing Egyptian Alabaster Back To Life. Interview with Omar Chakil

27 Apr 2025

A table shaped like a scarab beetle, a bench featuring the fossilised tail of a Nile crocodile, a chair whose backrest is a cobra with an open hood... these are just a few of the creations by French-Egyptian-Lebanese designer Omar ‘Chakil’ El Wakil. His pieces reimagine ancient Egyptian animal deities through a modern lens, and every work is crafted from Egyptian alabaster.

In 2019, Chakil realised that alabaster was no longer widely used, which led him to explore the material again and bring it back to life. His efforts have already made an impact on the local scene — today, Egyptian alabaster is being embraced once again by various designers and creatives.

In early April this year, Omar Chakil’s alabaster works were presented by Galerie Gastou during PAD Paris, making him the first Arab designer to collaborate with the renowned gallery.

So, what is the story behind his creations? What is it like to work with alabaster? And what about Omar’s creative journey (spoiler: before design, he was a singer-songwriter)? Let's find out.

— You started your creative journey as a singer-songwriter. First, what kind of songs did you write? Second, what made you leave that world behind? And third, how did that transition into sculpture and design happen?

— I used to write pop songs. I still occasionally write for my niece, Sarah Ali, who is also a singer-songwriter. I never truly left that world behind; it lives within me. I create objects like I write songs. From the same place, with similar intentions of bringing people together and tapping into certain vibrations that need to be highlighted. I strive to incorporate my creative impulses into my work so that every circumstance becomes an opportunity, no matter what life throws my way.

I have always been a designer, a storyteller, a musician, and a singer. With years and work, these talents merge into skills, hopefully. When life brought me to Egypt, I had to find a way to bring my creative contribution from there. I don’t sing in Arabic, so I grabbed the hat that fit the circumstance.

Omar Chakil

— How have your backgrounds in music and interior design influenced the way you think about form, space, and storytelling in your current work?

— I think my obsessive need to bring hope and meaning to everything is what shaped the core of my work. It feels like a vocation — an instinctive urge to bring some kind of order to chaos. That definitely stems from the trauma of my parents being uprooted from Egypt and Lebanon to France, and from the deep wounds of my mother being separated from her family during the war in Lebanon. Seeking beauty, order, and a kind of merciful magic in the world around me became second nature.

— You have described yourself as self-taught, even though you briefly studied at Milan's DOMUS Academy. In what ways has that independence shaped your creative voice?

— I think my relative ignorance has actually given me a kind of freedom. Desire is the greatest teacher. There is a wonderful quote by the French philosopher Diderot — he said that taste comes from repeated experiences, which, over time, give us the ability to recognise what is true and good. I see myself as a constant, passionate student with a hungry mind and a deep, vocational need to give voice to individual expression, one that places hope and beauty at the core of everything.

Uraeus Birth Chair by Omar Chakil. Photo: B.Doss

— You describe yourself as the “son of Egypt, Lebanon, and France.” How do these cultural identities come together in your works?

— Well, France gave me a sense of value for culture and beauty, especially the city of Paris, where you grow up surrounded by exceptional architectural beauty, but also with closed and aggressively rigorous views on what is aesthetically and culturally acceptable. It is a real school of reaching for the exceptional.

Egypt gave me a sense of deep heritage, but also a need to stand up against incredible waste and injustice, and a sense of having to adapt to chaos.

Lebanon is my mother — something hard to pinpoint, but it brings a certain creative edge to life and a depth of perspective, thanks to its uniquely diverse cultural background. I haven’t met a single Lebanese person who doesn’t have at least a spark of creative talent. I think it stems from deep-rooted mercantile traditions, combined with the unique resilience that has developed from surviving in such a small yet highly envied country.

— You moved back to Egypt from France in 2019 and began exploring why alabaster was no longer being used. What did you discover? And why had it fallen out of use?

— I mainly discovered that the Pharaohs valued it so highly that they used it for precious artefacts intended to accompany them into the afterlife. Any visit to the museum is a celebration of the beauty of Egyptian alabaster, among many other endemic materials and crafts.

So, how did it become a material used only for small, cheap tourist trinkets? There are many reasons, but it largely stems from the cultural decline that began after Nasser nationalised the country, expelled foreigners, and expropriated landowners through radical agricultural reforms — reforms that were so poorly thought out they led to economic collapse.

Decades of cultural impoverishment and isolation created low self-esteem and a rejection of local materials. Things are slowly changing now — not always sustainably, but you have to start somewhere.

— Your work has already influenced the local scene — Egyptian alabaster is now being picked up by other designers and creatives. Why do you think that shift finally happened? What do you think kept it from being used before?

— Thanks for noticing that. I think people everywhere follow trends and don’t like to take chances. It is unfortunate, especially when companies do it with enough financial means to open new lanes of creativity. There is so much more to uncover and restore and bring into the now and the future. So much asset is wasted everywhere. Preserving and creating value for local craft and conscious consumption is crucial.

SOBEK Bench by Omar Chakil. Photo: B.Doss

— This new series is built around the theme of "Transcendence." What sparked that idea for you? And how does this concept manifest through the individual pieces?

— I see my work as an ongoing, instinctive process that gives rise to a concept. Victor Gastou wanted more explicit Egyptian references — a crocodile, a scarab, and a cobra. So I gave him exactly that, but through my own lens.

The SOBEK bench features the scanned tail of a Nile crocodile, brought into form as if fossilised inside a marble capsule. The RESURRECTION table symbolises reconciliation, combining Iranian onyx, Italian marble, and Egyptian alabaster. The Cobra URAEUS Birth chair brings together symbols of protection and fertility in a throne-like design.

— You often work with massive, raw blocks of alabaster. What has it been like to work with this material? What challenges or surprises come with it?

— The most challenging part is sourcing it and selecting the right blocks. Egyptian alabaster isn’t in high demand among most luxury marble dealers because it is difficult to source. The quarries are locally owned and often run by people who rarely have access to high-end machinery for extraction or quality control.

It is a stone typically found in grottos, and it varies greatly in colour, often containing holes and fractures. But these challenges make it all the more rewarding and beautiful when it is used well.

RESURRECTION Scarab Coffee Table by Omar Chakil. Photo: B.Doss

— This is your first time showing with Galerie Gastou. What was that collaboration like, and in what ways did it shape the direction of this series?

— It was a dream come true. Many might not realise what Galerie Gastou represents to certain Parisians, but Yves Gastou was a pioneering force in the early ’80s and a founding figure in the world of collectable design. The gallery’s façade was iconically designed by Ettore Sottsass.

As a teenager, I walked past it many times, in awe of what was on display. Works by Kuramata, Ron Arad, Gabriella Crespi, Carlo Scarpa, and many others were celebrated and brought to Paris with such elegance.

Victor now runs the gallery with a similar — and I would say even more forward-thinking — vision. He wanted to emphasise the Egyptian references in my work, and I gladly obliged.

— Architect Matthieu Poirier-Lauvin created an immersive space for your work at PAD. How did that environment influence how you envisioned the pieces being experienced?

— Matthieu’s work was both inspired and meticulous. I would say my own pieces helped influence his direction, bringing fresh perspectives to classic works — like André Dubreuil’s iconic metal designs, Agnès Debizet’s ceramics, Hiquily’s tables, and the incredible mirror so masterfully crafted by Béatrice Serre.

To be in such extraordinary company is, truly, an unforgettable blessing.

— Art behaves differently in different spaces. Just for fun — if you could place the Transcendence pieces anywhere in the world, where would that be? And what do you think would change in how they are perceived?

— Great question. I would place multiple SOBEK benches in various museum halls — for people to sit on, touch, and experience while taking in great art. Context really is everything.

I love contrast and métissage, so I would place URAEUS chairs in classic 19th-century interiors, perhaps, and a MOON sconce in a public library… I would love to create a piece specifically for a public space.

MOON sconce; Nubia shelves; GROS GUILLAUME Stool. All by Omar Chakil. Photo: B.Doss

— You once said that "transcendence" is what separates collectable design from regular design. Can you elaborate on what that means to you?

— I recommend a great piece by design specialist Glenn Adamson on the topic. Collectable design is design that transcends design itself. Traditionally, design is expected to serve a practical function, unlike art, and is generally seen as something that should adapt to industrial needs.

However, I believe collectable design is collectable precisely because it brings unique, individual qualities that go beyond conventional ideas of function. After all, evoking emotion and inspiration is a function in its own right.

— What emotional or narrative elements do you hope people feel or connect with when they engage with this series?

— I want people to be inspired to question what they know. To travel from wherever they are and to enrich their perspectives on various cultural aspects of life. Whether they can afford the pieces or not, I want them to feel better and to engage with the idea of the object and the object itself.

— What is next for you? Are you exploring new materials, new collaborations, or maybe diving deeper into this cultural dialogue you have started?

— I hope so! I am looking forward to continuing my journey with Galerie Gastou, with a blessed participation in Art Basel, a collaboration with the collectable brand Don Tanani, another PAD in London in partnership with the fabulous Studio Ashby, and more to come.

But first and foremost, I am hoping to find a place to spend a much-needed week in nature doing absolutely nothing!

by Alexandra Mansilla