Salem Al Shammari

What’s your name and where are you from/based?
My name is Salem Al Shammari. I’m based in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia. Origin is important to me not just as geography but as atmosphere, memory, and how a place shapes silence and intensity.
Can you describe your practice in a few words?
My practice is about silence, tension, and transformation. I move between photography and film, always chasing what can’t be said directly images that live between shadow and memory.

What drew you to film and photography? Which one came first?
Photography came first, almost by accident. I was drawn to how a still frame could hold weight without needing to explain itself. Film followed, as a way to stretch that weight into time, into rhythm.

Your images carry strong moods creating a real sense of atmosphere. How do you transform inner emotions into visual form?
By letting emotions stay raw and not trying to “beautify” them. I use light, shadow, abandoned spaces, and the body itself as vessels. What’s heavy inside me becomes shape, texture, and silence in the work.


Do you see your films and photographs as reflections of your own inner life, or more of a collective memory?
Both. They come from my own inner states, but the spaces, objects, and fragments I photograph feel collective like echoes of things many of us carry, even if unspoken.

Your upcoming short film Noah unfolds entirely without dialogue. If words can’t speak to the audience, what do you hope will?
I hope silence itself speaks. The imagery, the sounds of the place, the gestures they carry enough to reach people directly, without explanation. My hope is for the audience to feel themselves inside Noah’s silence.


Was there a project that challenged you in any unexpected ways?
Yes, Noah. It challenged me on every level: filming in abandoned spaces, pushing myself and my crew with limited resources, and also confronting myself emotionally. The difficulty became part of the film’s truth.


Is there a hidden symbol or meaning in one or more of your pieces that someone unfamiliar with your work wouldn’t be able to understand right away?
Yes. Chairs, empty rooms, and broken objects appear often in my work. They aren’t random they symbolize absence, memory, and the weight of what’s left behind. They’re quiet symbols that repeat across my practice.

Outside of filmmaking and photography, what do you find yourself drawn to?
I’m drawn to wandering at night through the city by car, or just walking. Lights, empty roads, small details like a chandelier in someone’s home, or palm trees against the sunset these moments feed me as much as making the work.

Where can people find you?
Instagram is the main place for now: @traceofsalem





