Algerian painter Dhewadi Hadjab speaks about the movement, modernity and sanctity in his works
In the heart of M'Sila, a traditional Algerian town, painter Dhewadi Hadjab’s earliest encounter with art wasn’t in a museum. It was in his mother’s kitchen, where the rhythmic clatter of her loom filled the air. “She wove rugs in the middle of our kitchen,” Hadjab recalls. “There was always this presence of colour, movement and repetition.” Unnoticed at the time, these rhythms would later resurface in his art; manifest in his striking oil on canvas works, the interplay of drapery and form embodying the push and pull of concealment and revelation. For Hadjab, who is now represented by the prestigious Kamel Mennour gallery in Paris, and who has been awarded several international prizes such as the Prix des Amis des Beaux-arts and the Prix du portrait Bertrand de Demandolx-Dedons, this rhythmic process became a kind of choreography expressed through his hyper-real figurative painting.
“Art is a way of asking questions – about ourselves, our past, and our future. My hope is that my paintings open a space for reflection”
Growing up in Algeria, in a society shaped by religious and cultural norms, Hadjab developed a fascination with what lies hidden. “Bodies were always represented modestly — clothed, non-sexualised,” he explains. This conflict between visibility and concealment now pulses through his depiction of disjointed forms and intricate folds of drapery, creating a visual language that is at once universal and deeply personal.
At the centre of his work is an exploration of movement. While studying in Algiers, he was captivated by the unpolished rehearsals of a dancer friend. “These felt much more sincere and interesting to me than the final, perfected performance,” he reflects. He went on to be inspired by Pina Bausch, whose ground-breaking work blurred between dance and theatre. “Bausch’s work showed me how you can create something entirely new by breaking rules,” he says. “Her choreography was strange, uncomfortable and deeply human. She embraced awkwardness and raw energy. That’s what I find so interesting – the fragments, the tension, the moments where vulnerability comes through.”
His paintings carry this energy, distilling human emotion into striking forms that sway on the edge of collapse. His latest exhibition at Kamel Mennour gallery, ‘Acte II : fragmenter’, featured works where decomposed movements suggest bodies in positions impossible to sustain. “Like Bausch’s dancers, my subjects aren’t meant to be perfect or poised. They’re meant to carry the emotion, the truth of being human. That’s where beauty lies for me. I want to capture the hardness, the strain in the body. Dance, for me, is a way of understanding the body as a living thing,” he explains. For this series, he aimed to go beyond the static image. “There’s always frustration in choosing one pose over another because the moments before and after are just as interesting. So, I started exploring how to capture movement and transition. The smaller paintings reflect this desire to explore motion and time.”
Highlighting how these works speak to people in a multitude of ways, he adds, “Spectators often connect my work to societal questions – how we perceive bodies, the role of aging and the image of the self. These are interesting insights because they reflect shared human experiences. Even children, when they discover their bodies, engage with similar playful movements, looking at themselves upside-down or striking ostrich-like poses. My work taps into this universality.”
“My subjects aren’t meant to be perfect or poised. They’re meant to carry the emotion, the truth of being human”
This deep dive into the body’s vulnerability finds new meaning when applied to sacred themes and religious iconography. In 2024, Hadjab was invited by Saint-Eustache Church in Paris to create two monumental paintings. This commission bridges the gap between tradition and the now. “I drew from Caravaggio, particularly his depiction of Saint Paul. His legacy is enormous, and the challenge was finding a way to make this subject resonate with our contemporary world. My way of doing this was to represent Saint Paul in sweatpants, blending the timeless with the modern.”
The result is a pair of striking paintings within the church: one featuring a contorted body in red sweatpants, the other twisting and writing in purple sweatpants. This reinterpretation of Saint Paul is also a nod to the breakdancers of Paris’s Les Halles, whose performances unfold just moments away from the church. These street dancers embody a subculture rooted in freedom, resilience and self-expression, their artform having long served as a vessel for protest and identity for immigrant and marginalised communities. Sociologist Pierre Bourdieu’s concept of cultural capital reveals how dominant groups define "legitimate" culture, often relegating the expressions of less privileged communities to the periphery. By incorporating the breakdancers of Les Halles into his Saint-Eustache Church commission, Hadjab challenges these entrenched power structures, proposing a more inclusive and dynamic vision of France’s cultural identity.
Whether depicting fragmented bodies in motion or reimagined saints, his paintings invite viewers to ponder their own experiences of concealment, revelation and transformation. “Art is a way of asking questions – about ourselves, our past, and our future. My hope is that my paintings open a space for reflection, where viewers can find their own meanings,” he reflects. “I want my paintings to entertain. It’s not about telling people what to see, but about creating a space where they can see themselves.” With his evocation of tradition and modernity in an evolving world, his work reminds us that beauty often lies in imperfection — and that culture, like art, is a living dialogue shaped by those who dare to reimagine it.