CSM student Asmaa Jama represents Somalia at the Venice Biennale

MA Fine Art Digital student Asmaa Jama (they/them) recently presented work as part of the Somalia National Pavilion at the 2026 Venice Biennale, a landmark moment for Somali representation at one of the world’s leading contemporary art events.

Somalia's inaugural participation marks a significant cultural moment, introducing Somali artistic practices to a global audience within this historic international context. In this interview, Asmaa reflects on poetry, the Indian Ocean as a point of inspiration and how studying at CSM has shaped their evolving practice.

How does it feel to be representing Somalia at the Venice Biennale while still studying at Central Saint Martins?

It’s been a really good place for me to reflect on my practice. It was definitely unexpected news, but it’s a huge honour.

Can you tell me about the work you were showing and the ideas or experiences that shaped it?

The overall curatorial framework for the pavilion was In Minor Keys. It looked at poetry and the idea of the “minor voice”, and Somalia is often described as a nation of poets. The curators used poetry as a framework for the whole pavilion, and I wanted to complicate that by presenting work that felt more like embodied or living poetry.

I showed three pieces. One was called The Blood Curse, a moving image film and installation. Another was a sound piece, and the third was a painting. All of the works explored Somalia and the coastline in particular as a place historically connected to the rest of the world and to other regions such as Lamu.

The work also explored myths and histories connected to the Indian Ocean. In the film, for example, I looked at two overlapping histories: pearl diving and the Afro-Arab slave trade. I was interested in the Indian Ocean as a body of water and in the ways identity becomes complex through movement and exchange.

The sound piece follows a sailor travelling from Mogadishu across historic trade routes through places like Lamu and Oman. That piece was inspired by poetic mapping traditions, where poetry was used as a way of charting journeys. I included an Iranian fisher song about dark-skinned fishermen and people travelling to Somalia from Iran, as well as a Somali ritual song called Hayat, which is sung when a ship is missing off the coast.

Somalia has never had the same level of visibility at the Biennale as some other nations. What does it mean to contribute to that representation at this moment?

Historically, there haven’t been many African pavilions at the Biennale, so whenever there is one, it feels like a huge celebration. This is Somalia’s first pavilion, which makes it really historic. For people in Somalia and for the Somali diaspora, I think it’s a wonderful milestone. When I was there, a lot of people from the Global South and from across Africa were also really excited and happy about it. I think it means a lot to contribute to that representation. It also feels important to share different forms of working and thinking on a global stage.

How has studying at Central Saint Martins influenced your practice, particularly in the lead-up to Venice?

I think I’ve become much more resourceful and creative. Before coming to CSM, my practice was primarily moving image and I often imagined films as largescale productions where everything had to work exactly as I envisioned it. Otherwise, I felt like the work had failed.

My tutor Jonathan really helped me embrace failure more and become curious about alternative ways of working. There were practical limitations in making the work for Venice - I couldn’t recreate an 18th century dhow or travel across the Indian Ocean with a huge production team - so I had to think differently about what was possible using the resources I already had.

As a result, the work became more layered and experimental. I started incorporating collage, digital animation and other methods I probably wouldn’t have explored before. The course also helped me develop a regular practice. Sometimes opportunities like Venice come together very quickly, so it helped that I was already constantly making work.

Were there any artists, writers or cultural references you found yourself returning to while developing the work?

I was really inspired by Swahili and Somali material culture across the East African coast and into Kenya. I listened to a lot of music from the region and researched musical histories. I think a lot of histories can disappear, but traces of them remain in songs, objects and architecture. In Zanzibar, for example, there are carved motifs in doors that symbolise particular histories and movements of people.

In terms of artists, I was looking at different moving image practitioners. I came across the work of Cauleen Smith this year, which I found really inspiring. I was also thinking about the Somali filmmaker Abdulkadir Said, whose films feel poetic and experimental. Another artist I was thinking about was Med Hondo. His work is incredible.

What surprised you most about the Venice Biennale experience;  creatively, personally or politically?

I think I didn’t expect it to feel so busy and so global. I ran into so many people whose work I really admire. It felt like the entire art world was there, but it also felt deeply international in a different way. I met people from Egypt, Guinea and Ecuador, as well as people actually living in Venice.

One thing that surprised me was how many languages I found myself using. I speak English, Somali and French, and a tiny bit of Danish and Arabic. I found myself constantly trying to connect with people through language, even when I barely spoke it. It was really overwhelming in some ways, but also exciting.

Has this experience changed how you think about your future practice or the kinds of conversations you want your work to be part of?

My practice has always been situated around the Afro-diaspora and questions of connection across different places. This experience made me want to lean into that even more. Every film I’ve made has been shot on the African continent, and I’ve always wanted to connect with people across Africa, the Caribbean and the wider diaspora. I think those are the conversations I want to continue being part of. I’m really interested in projects and initiatives started by artists across the continent and beyond, and in finding longer-term ways to collaborate and exchange ideas.