Loud, Bold, And Full Of Volume. Calligraphy With Ibrahim Zaki

by Alexandra Mansilla

Loud, Bold, And Full Of Volume. Calligraphy With Ibrahim Zaki

22 Jul 2025

Born in Saudi Arabia, raised in Palestine, and now based in Dubai, Ibrahim Zaki is a graphic designer and calligrapher known for a wild, unmistakable way of playing with letters. His work is loud, overflowing with energy and volume. You can feel his big personality, humour, and warmth bursting through every poster he makes.

Calligraphy found Ibrahim almost by accident, yet in a way, it was only natural. As a child, he helped his father make signs — at the time, just a family chore that eventually grew into his life’s passion. Over the years, he has collaborated with brands like Ray-Ban, Lululemon, BRED Abu Dhabi, On Running ME, and more. One of his posters was even featured among the "Hundred Best Arabic Posters." Ibrahim is also the creator of the new logo for The Sady Times!

Let's dive into his story.

— Ibrahim, first off, I would love to hear more about your past and your family. What was your childhood like? What kind of family were you raised in, and what was your home environment like?

— I grew up in Saudi Arabia in a family where my father was a sign maker. He did it part-time — his main job was teaching math. For him, sign making was a way to earn some extra money while also following his passion for calligraphy, so it was both a business and a form of creative expression.

I spent my early years in Saudi Arabia, but when I was still quite young, we moved to Palestine. Even then, my father continued making signs. It really became a kind of family teamwork: my mother helped out, cutting stencils, mixing paints — she was involved in all the practical sides of the sign-making process.

Whenever we moved from city to city, I would notice how the signage changed. It took me a while, but I realised that the number and style of signs reflected the economic situation of each place. For example, in Nablus, the signs are more about shops and trading. In Jenin, where I grew up, it is more about farming and building.

Old Nablus. Instagram: @by.ibrahimzaki

When I finished school, they opened the first graphic design department in Al Najah University. By the way, at the time, I didn’t even know what graphic design was! And like in a lot of families, my parents tried things out on their first child — they experimented a bit with my education, seeing what worked and what didn’t. So I went to study there.

On the practical side, I got lucky: in my second year, I landed a job at an outdoor sign shop. Two years later, I moved on to a more serious role at an agency that specialised in publications and books. That is where I learned about more mature typography, publication design, how to work with printing, colours, and large-scale projects. It was a real education in the craft.

Ibrahim Zaki's logo

— So you officially started your creative journey back in 2008, but you mentioned that you only really realised you wanted to be an artist in 2016. That is about eight years in between. Like… what?

— Exactly. For me, design isn’t pure art. Design is about responding to the market and to clients, so you are not creating just for yourself — there is always a purpose, a brief. When I moved to that agency specialising in publications, I started to realise this even more, especially when we worked with artists to create their books. I had to understand the language of creators — how they present themselves, what inspires them, their backgrounds, and their creative processes.

That experience really shaped me. I had the opportunity to meet some amazing typographers and designers, and they inspired me, but they also taught me how things should be done properly. I traveled to Berlin three times for type design events, and those trips helped me take my work from random sketches and ideas to something much more serious — something that truly represents my identity and my understanding of calligraphy and design.

Then I moved to Dubai, where I worked in advertising and branding. One day, I drew the word “coffee” on a cup, looked at it, and thought — what if I do it as a main thing in my life? That is when I decided to strike out on my own and develop my own style and identity. So far, it has worked out — I am still here, and honestly, that feels like a big achievement.

— Do you remember a particular moment when people really started to notice your work?

— Honestly, before COVID, I wasn’t really on social media much. My work was mostly spread by word of mouth — friends telling friends, that kind of thing. I was known in Dubai, but not so much outside.

Then COVID hit, and I was home alone and kind of bored. So I just started posting old stuff from my Google Drive — random bits, experiments, sometimes just a letter I liked or a quote. I didn’t really have a plan; I just shared whatever felt interesting that day.

It turned out to be the best thing ever. People gave me so much good feedback, and even some tough critiques, which actually helped a lot. It made me think about how to make my work clearer or more readable. Sometimes what I posted was inspired by what was happening in the world, the economy, or just daily life on the street.

That is when people started noticing my work, not just in Dubai, but across the region. Brands and agencies began reaching out about projects. Even some international groups wanted to work with me! So just putting my work out there online changed everything for me.

— And if I remember right, Wissam Shawkat was a big inspiration for you, wasn’t he?

— Yes, absolutely — Wissam Shawkat is both a friend and a real inspiration to me. I first heard about him when I was still in Palestine, and it was always kind of a dream to have a one-on-one workshop with him. I actually got that chance, but it wasn’t cheap… So instead of just paying, I would rather have a real friendship with him, haha! Since then, we have become friends.

That time I also realised that just copying what the masters did wasn’t enough for me. I wanted to explore further, discover my own path.

So I started looking for inspiration. I found Muhammad Bin Al-Qāsim al-Qundūs, an Algerian calligrapher from centuries ago. His style was inspired by the old Kufic script, which is very bold and geometric. He played with the concept of the vertical and horizontal lines in Arabic script. His forms were simple, but had a lot of presence — very bold shapes with strong contrast. I was inspired by his work and started incorporating that into my own practice.

So, in my work, I feel like there are two big influences: the movement and energy I learned from my friend, Wissam Shawkat, and the boldness, contrast, and volume I get from al-Qundūs’s style of calligraphy.

— When I look at your portraits and calligraphy, I really feel that connection — they have this softness and openness, something wide and full of volume. Could you tell me, in your own words, how your work reflects who you are?

— Absolutely — the “volume” really represents who I am as an artist. My forms are loud, bold, and exaggerated; I push the shapes and take them further, always looking for a new movement or form. When I create my work, I focus on the relationship between the letters, stretching and playing with each character to give it a kind of charisma — almost a personality that stands out and feels loud, like it fills the space. That is where I see my own identity showing up in the artwork.

Instagram: @by.ibrahimzaki

— Good. Your “100 Best Arabic Posters” piece is amazing — I really love it! Could you tell me more about how that project came about?

— There is actually a whole story behind this poster. I was commissioned by a university in Palestine to create a poster for them, aimed at welcoming new students. The idea was to reflect the five core values of the university: equality, justice, diversity, freedom of expression, and excellence.

The design department approached me specifically because they wanted my perspective — they said, “Do whatever you believe in.” But at the same time, they wanted something structured. So I created a poster that really expressed my style and interpretation of those values.

But as soon as I showed it to them, they immediately rejected it. Their feedback was that it was just too different — they wanted something more legible, more straightforward, more traditional. So I tried simplifying it, but they still weren’t happy. In the end, I told them not to put my name on it — I didn’t want to be associated with the final version.

Still, I didn’t want my effort to go to waste. So that same year, I submitted my original poster to a competition — and it was selected as one of the best 100 posters in the Arab region. The exhibition actually toured the Arab world, and for the first time, it came to Palestine and was displayed in that very university’s graphic design department.

So imagine that: the poster that was originally rejected ended up being showcased at the university as an award-winning work.

— What happened next?

— Honestly, I went a little crazy about it — because, as I said, I am a pretty loud person! I couldn’t help but tease them a bit, like, “Oh, really? You think this isn’t a good poster? Well, it just got picked as one of the best 100 in the whole region.” I was joking around, but it really was a shock for some of them.

— What role did that exhibition play in your life?

— Soon after that exhibition, a collaboration came together. I will tell you the story.

I met two artists in Berlin. I liked their work and said, “Why not? Let’s do something together.” One of them said, “I’ll bring the paints and some tracing paper for you,” and I asked, “When?” She replied, “Tonight. If we don’t do it now, we’ll never do it.”

So, we spent the whole night working on it — translating her story. Her journey was really powerful: she moved around a lot in her life, working for one company, but she didn’t like it, always trying to show she didn’t accept the system. She did a lot to stand against it, then moved to Berlin and started doing art. It was her destiny.

I translated her story into Arabic. Arabic is such a poetic language, and the word “destiny” in Arabic carries so much warmth and meaning. That night, she drew her story in dots, creating a self-portrait until 4 am, while I did the calligraphy. The next day, without any sleep, we printed the work.

We ended up taking the poster to about 40 different places around Berlin, sticking our pieces up everywhere. Then we had this wild idea: let’s put it on the Berlin Wall. We created a poster, 160 by 90 centimetres, cut it, and glued it up, running back and forth between the gardens and the Wall.

That is really the point — I love connecting calligraphy to art, making it about stories and people.

Ibrahim Zaki x Ray-Ban ME

— And I also saw that you had a collaboration with Ray-Ban. What was that experience like? How did it come about?

— Honestly, it was the best collaboration I’ve ever had. They believed in my work from the start — they didn’t give me any feedback or restrictions, just total creative freedom. All they asked was to come up with something simple that would represent their idea.

Ray-Ban frames are iconic — their design has barely changed for decades. So I came up with the phrase, “I see you every time as for the first time.” I liked it because it could connect both to people and to the brand: every time you look at those glasses, or at someone wearing them, it feels new, timeless, like seeing them for the first time.

They loved the line and just told me to do my thing. So I took that phrase and applied my style to it, trying to create movement and maybe a hint of an eye shape within the design.

Instagram: @by.ibrahimzaki

— You are a calligrapher who teaches and gives workshops, not just for adults but also for kids. Do you love working with children? I mean, they are always so inspiring!

— Yes, and I get so much inspiration from kids. The beauty of working with them is that they don’t care about rules — they just create, completely free. That is actually the whole point of workshops for me: they make you feel alive. When I am with people in a workshop, I get inspired by their ideas, and it brings back old memories or creative “folders” in my brain that I hadn’t opened in years.

But working with kids is something else. They are not held back by rules or what is “supposed” to be done — they just do what feels right to them. I always tell this story: I once did a calligraphy workshop for a group of school kids, about 10 or 11 years old. After showing them some basic calligraphy styles, I asked them to create their names in a way that reflected their hobbies or something they love.

The results blew me away. One boy, Hammad, created something so simple and smart. He wrote his name in Arabic in the usual way, but then he wanted to add his favourite thing — fishing — into it. So he just added a little “fish” shape right into the letters. With three simple moves, he turned his name into a logo. It was so clean and clever. I was genuinely inspired!

That is what I love about working with kids — they are just so creative, fresh, and full of energy. They are not limited by all the things that get in the way for adults. They can create something truly new and original.

— Now — the new logo that you made for us, for The Sandy Times! It is beautiful!

— The brief was really open: just do something you enjoy, your own activity — the stage is yours. For me, that actually felt like a big responsibility. When you have that much freedom, it can almost be intimidating. I created a few versions and showed them. They told me, “We like this one, because it is so you.” I really appreciated that. You know, I used to hear a different phrase a lot during my eight years in corporate design: “No, no, this is too you. You need to follow the brand, stick to the organisation’s style.” Sometimes you have to be a little “grey,” just blending in.

But with this project, they said, “This is very you, and that's what we want.” So, I went for it. I started creating a lettering or typeface that represents the whole idea of The Sandy Times — they want to explore and connect with the region, but in a way that is bold and different, not in the classic or subtle way. I felt like that vision really lined up with what I wanted to do, and I think it worked.

New logo of The Sandy Times

— And finally, are there any collaborations or projects you are currently working on that you would like to share?

— I want to mention one in particular. Someone saw my interview for STR, thought I was funny and energetic — and they figured I would be a good fit to work with. So from that interview, I ended up getting a commission and a collaboration with SQUATWOLF.

They gave me a lot of creative freedom. They told me, “We like your work. We saw your interview and we want to collaborate.” I was honestly surprised, so I asked if they were sure. And they said, “Yes, we love it. Just do your thing — make it loud, abstract, energetic, something that really feels like you.”

So I am planning to announce it soon. I am excited about it!

by Alexandra Mansilla