Numeraire: Could you tell us about your early relationship with art and how porcelain became central to your practice?
MB: As a child I was constantly drawing, building things, and making small objects with my hands. That instinct eventually led me to study ceramics at the Faculty of Fine Arts.
After graduating, I spent some time working in different areas of the creative sector before returning more fully to my studio practice.
Porcelain has always been the central material in my work. I’m fascinated by its delicacy and the level of precision it allows. Most of my pieces are built from hundreds of small, hand-formed elements that come together almost like organic environments.
I work both with relief-based compositions and sculptures in the round. Some pieces unfold across a surface, while others occupy space more fully. For me these approaches aren’t separate stages but parallel ways of exploring the same ideas about nature, accumulation, and organic growth.
Numeraire: Your Habitat series builds intricate environments from botanical forms and animal-like textures. How did this body of work begin, and what draws you to combining these different fragments of the natural world into imagined ecosystems?
MB: When I first started developing this series, I found myself thinking a lot about what the real details of nature actually are. I realized that what fascinates me most are the textures and structures that make up the natural world.
That idea eventually became the starting point for the Habitat series. I began bringing together different natural fragments and textures to create new environments.
Many of the botanical forms in my work come from these observations. They are inspired by elements found in nature—plants, flowers, branches, leaves—but also by textures that belong to animals, such as fur, feathers, horns, or teeth. Because for me, humans and animals are also part of nature.
By combining these different fragments, I slowly build layered compositions that grow into unfamiliar, imagined ecosystems.
Numeraire: Porcelain is often described as both fragile and technically demanding. What has your long relationship with this material taught you, and how has working with porcelain over many years shaped your technical approach?
MB: Although porcelain is widely known for its fragility and technical difficulty, working with the same material for many years gradually builds a certain level of mastery. My practice is very much rooted in craftsmanship, and the continuity of working with porcelain over time has turned what is often considered a limitation into a technical advantage.
Rather than constantly shifting between materials, I’m more interested in developing a deeper technical understanding within a single one. Over the years, this long relationship with porcelain has allowed me to approach increasingly complex structures with greater confidence and control.
At the same time, I still dedicate a lot of time to learning and refining my technique. Recently, for example, I spent two months in Jingdezhen in China—the city widely known as the historical center of porcelain—studying traditional techniques with local masters. Experiences like this continue to expand my understanding of the material.
Numeraire: Many of your sculptures feel as though they are still growing— like living environments captured in a single moment. How do you think about creating this sense of suspended life within the permanence of fired porcelain?
MB: Yes, I’m really happy that you sensed that, because it’s very close to what I try to express in my work. I want the pieces to feel almost alive—as if the organisms within them could continue growing, multiplying, and evolving the moment you look away.
I’m interested in creating environments that feel like living habitats, where forms seem to emerge from one another, almost as if they are part of an ongoing natural process.
At the same time, the material itself adds another layer of meaning. Porcelain, once fired, becomes almost stone-like. So while the forms suggest movement and growth, the material freezes that moment in time. In that sense, the works hold a kind of suspended life—something that feels both alive and permanently still at the same time.
Numeraire: Your works often reveal themselves slowly: at first glance they appear harmonious and beautiful, yet closer looking uncovers more complex or even unsettling details. How intentional is this balance between attraction and tension in your compositions?
MB: Yes, I build that tension quite consciously. In my work I’m very interested in the relationship that develops between the viewer and the piece over time. I want the encounter to unfold gradually rather than reveal everything at once.
That’s why I often begin with elements that feel immediately beautiful or seductive—materials like porcelain, gold, or mother-of-pearl, and forms such as flowers and leaves. At first glance, the work can appear very harmonious and visually pleasing.
But as the viewer spends more time with it, other details start to emerge— elements that can feel slightly unsettling or that invite deeper reflection. I’m interested in that shift. Beauty draws the viewer in, but within it there are also small tensions that slowly reveal themselves.
In a way, I like to hide these more disturbing or thought-provoking details behind beauty, creating a balance where the viewer is first attracted and then gradually begins to question what they are seeing.
Numeraire: When installing your sculptures, how do you think about their relationship to the surrounding space? Do you design them with a specific environment in mind, or as self-contained worlds that can adapt to different contexts?
MB: The relationship with the space is certainly something I take into consideration, especially in terms of scale, light, and how the work is experienced by the viewer.
At the same time, I tend to approach my sculptures as relatively autonomous forms. Each piece is conceived as a self-contained world, so while the surrounding space inevitably influences how it is perceived, the work itself does not rely entirely on a specific environment.
For me, it’s more about creating a strong internal structure within the piece, allowing it to maintain its presence in different spatial contexts.
Numeraire: Looking ahead, what directions are you currently exploring in your practice—whether in terms of scale, color, or new sculptural systems within porcelain?
MB: In my recent work, I’ve been increasingly interested in developing more dimensional and sculptural forms. I’m currently experimenting with a new system that allows the series to evolve in a more spatial and sculptural direction.
At the same time, I’ve also started exploring color more deeply within porcelain. Working with color in porcelain is quite a technical and chemical process, so developing new tones requires a lot of testing—mixing pigments, creating recipes, firing samples, and repeating the process many times.
Right now, my practice is very much focused on these two directions: pushing the sculptural dimension of the work further, while also experimenting with color and new technical possibilities within porcelain.
Numeraire: You’ve exhibited widely across the UAE, Europe, and beyond, and your work is held in major museum collections, including the Louvre Abu Dhabi, one of the most serene museums we have ever visited. As you look ahead to 2026, what projects or directions are you most excited about? Are there new materials, scales, or conceptual territories you are preparing to explore?
MB: Last year, I had the opportunity to present my work in the UAE, the United States, Türkiye, South Korea, Taiwan, China, and also in Mumbai. Alongside these exhibitions, I spent nearly two months in Jingdezhen, China, where I completed an artist residency. This experience allowed me to connect more deeply with the region, both culturally and artistically, and to better understand its material traditions and contemporary art scene.
My time in India, particularly in Mumbai, was especially impactful. I was deeply influenced by the richness of its cultural and aesthetic language—the intricacy of its craftsmanship, and the way nature, ornament, and storytelling come together. I found strong resonances with my own practice, which led me to begin developing a new body of work inspired by Mughal art, particularly the floral compositions found in traditional wall paintings, reinterpreted through my own sculptural language.
At the same time, I have continued evolving my Habitat series. Recently, I have been working more intensively with color and subtle gradients, bringing a new dimension to the work. The pieces are becoming more sculptural, expanding further into space and moving into a new phase.
Looking ahead, my goal is to deepen my engagement with Asia. I am particularly interested in spending more time in India, China, and South Korea—both to explore these cultural contexts further and to make my work more visible across these regions.
Numeraire: You’ve recently introduced Numeraire Future Trends’ biometric- level passports for some of your sculptures. How did you first come to work with this technology, and what drew you to this innovation to authenticate your work?
MB: I work with a highly traditional material and produce my pieces through time-honored techniques. At the same time, permanence is a concept I constantly question and deeply value. Especially after my works entered the permanent collections of institutions such as the Louvre Abu Dhabi, as well as museums in Türkiye and internationally, I began to reflect even more critically on the longevity and future of what I create.
While my practice is rooted in tradition, I am equally aware of the importance of engaging with the conditions and possibilities of the contemporary world. I don’t see these as opposing forces, but rather as layers that can strengthen one another. The uniqueness of each artwork remains essential—for both the artist and the collector. Each piece carries an irreproducible presence, shaped by time, process, and material sensitivity.
In this context, my collaboration with Numeraire Future Trends has been particularly meaningful. It offered a framework where questions of permanence, authenticity, and innovation could coexist. Beyond functioning as a form of certification, it enables the work to be digitally preserved while also creating a unique visual fingerprint. Given the intricate textures and highly detailed surfaces in my pieces, this kind of precise documentation and traceability becomes especially valuable. It allows the work to exist simultaneously in both physical and digital realms, reinforcing its identity and safeguarding its integrity. Being part of this process is something I find both exciting and essential for the future of my practice.
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