Monday calls for something that hits that perfect mix of inspiration and curiosity — something that makes us learn, explore, and maybe even pick up a bit of energy from other people’s work. Art is perhaps the most natural place to start.

So today, we are diving into the stories of Arab artists who use metal as their primary medium. And here is where it gets interesting: same material, completely different ways of working with it.

No need for too much build-up — let’s get into it. Here are five artists working with metal.

Raya Kassisieh is a Palestinian-Jordanian artist — and while this selection focuses on metal as the primary material, she could just as easily sit in a lineup of artists working with drawing or even textiles. Which is to say: she isn't just a metal artist, but a genuinely multidisciplinary one.

That said, when she works with metal — it really lands.

In 2025, she presented a sculptural installation titled Heavy Petals — a large-scale steel work that reimagines floral patterns. And no, the choice of motif is never accidental here.

Raya built the piece using inspiration from old photographs belonging to her grandmother, Claudette — someone who was surrounded by floral patterns in everyday life: in her home, her clothes, her environment.

The work also connects to classical Arabic poetry, particularly the idea of Al Atlal, which translates to “the ruins.” In traditional qasidas — long, formal poems — poets would often begin by standing at the remains of an abandoned campsite, not to describe the place itself, but to reflect on what once was. It becomes less about the physical setting, and more about memory, loss, and the passage of time.

But Raya didn’t stop in 2025. In 2026, she continued the exploration with Heavy Petals (II), pushing the idea further. Here, she leans into transformation itself — drawing on the alchemy of fire and steel to rethink the rose, long associated with love and wedding rituals.

By exaggerating and materialising these familiar motifs, Kassisieh reveals something quite simple, yet powerful: love and loss don’t sit separately — they exist at the same time, often in the same form.

Armin Najib is a Dubai-based artist working primarily with metal sculpture. For him, metal sits at the core of the work — a hard, industrial material that, in his hands, becomes unexpectedly soft, almost fluid.

There is a constant tension in what he does: the material suggests stillness, yet visually, everything feels in motion. Rather than constructing a fixed narrative, Najib works through simple ideas, focusing on contrast — rigidity and flow, weight and lightness.

This comes through clearly in one of his most recognisable works, The Wall — a series of 12 unique pieces. Here, he plays with metal as something unexpectedly fluid, turning what should feel rigid into a surface that bends and shifts, almost resisting its own weight.

But The Wall doesn’t stand on its own. It is accompanied by a poem by Armin, which seems intended to add another layer — framing the work as a reflection on rebuilding after destruction. We, lay bricks one by one, will they break again?!

The truth remains elusive as they crumble.

Are these walls going to protect us hiding our vulnerability?

Here, I stand, facing the wall.

If in Raya’s Heavy Petals metal is the starting point — almost the main character — Ali Cherri approaches the material differently. For him, metal is just one of many materials, a tool rather than the focus, used to carry his ideas.

This comes through clearly in Twenty-Four Ghosts Per Second. The project is built around 24 glass boxes, reminiscent of museum display cases. Inside each one sits a sculpture — but not a traditional one. These are hybrid forms, made by combining fragments of old objects (or artefact-like pieces) with new elements created by the artist.

The idea is quite simple: to bring together objects from the past that still feel somehow alive, revealing a connection between past and present that hasn’t fully settled.

Among the materials, metal appears in different forms — bronze, chains, and other elements — sometimes taking on a more prominent role, but always as part of a larger whole. Nothing stands alone. Everything is reworked, combined, and given a new life, telling a different story.

Cherri calls this process “grafting” — a term borrowed from biology, where different parts are joined to grow as one. Here, he moves between roles: part archaeologist, part storyteller, part sculptor — assembling fragments into something both familiar and slightly uncanny.

Houmam Al Sayed is a Syrian artist, originally trained as a sculptor before moving into painting and mixed media.

At the centre of his work is a recurring figure — a stooped character, often with a covered or obscured face, sometimes hidden under a hat. At first glance, it can feel almost cartoon-like, even a little playful. But the longer you look, the heavier it gets.

Houmam explains that these crumpled figures carry something much larger in their idea — reflecting the pressure of political and social realities across the Middle East, from military regimes to ongoing conflicts, where individuals are shaped, silenced, and, at times, reduced by the systems around them. It is a reality he feels closely tied to.

There is a feeling that something gets lost along the way. And that is where metal comes in. It isn't there to decorate anything — it just sits with that weight, holding a sense of history and identity.

You probably already know eL Seed — the French-Tunisian artist known for his signature calligraffiti. We even had the chance to speak with him about his journey, which says a lot about just how far his work has travelled — from Brazil to France, from Italy to the UAE and beyond. And while he is best known for graffiti, the way he works with metal makes him hard to leave out of this list.

In some of his most striking pieces, eL Seed moves beyond walls into something more physical — almost architectural. Instead of painting calligraphy, he builds it. These works exist in three dimensions, where Arabic letters become structures in space.

Each one carries its own story, often shaped by the place it is created for, but also by his personal perspective. The texts range from Arabic poetry to more philosophical reflections — always layered and intentional. As eL Seed has shared, finding the right words can sometimes take several months — even years.

One of his most recognisable works is Declaration. First created as a temporary installation in 2014, it was later reworked in metal as a permanent piece — almost like giving calligraphy a more lasting form.