Once the Medieval centre of the literary and artistic Arab world, Iraq has long been known for the depth of its cultural expression. From early pioneers of modern art to internationally recognised architects, Iraqi creatives, both within the country and across the diaspora, have continued to use art to preserve their heritage and respond to changing political and social realities.
In this interview, we speak with British-Iraqi artist Lina Ogaily. Born to Iraqi parents, raised in Kuwait, and later moving to the UK, her art reflects a layered personal and cultural journey. Through her work, she explores themes of belonging and cultural memory, often focusing on perspectives that lack mainstream representation.
Looking back on your art journey, what obstacles did you have to overcome in order to reach such milestones?
“My journey as an artist has been shaped as much by adversity as by inspiration. One of the most persistent challenges has been financial hardship, navigating the art world without the security of institutional support or patronage often meant sacrificing stability to remain true to my practice,” she says. That lack of backing meant working without the safety net that often allows artists to experiment more freely.
As an Iraqi artist in Britain, Lina also encountered systemic resistance. “I’ve faced the complex reality of being both visible and overlooked: visible as an identity, yet overlooked when my work doesn’t neatly fit the expectations of Western institutions,” she explains, pointing to a system where recognition can depend significantly on existing personal networks rather than the work itself. She also encountered pressure from outside the art world to pursue something more stable, as well as suggestions within it to make her work more “palatable.” Rather than shifting direction, she says that experience clarified what she wanted to protect. “That pressure was actually empowering… it ultimately reaffirmed my commitment to my own authenticity.”
Of all the pieces you’ve created, which holds the most powerful significance for you personally?
Lina’s 2013 painting Nostalgia remains the closest to her heart. “This piece is a dense, layered tapestry of lines, textures, and rhythms that move almost musically across the surface. The intricate markings evoke fragments of memory, like glimpses of forgotten streets, overheard conversations, or the patterns of light and shadow unique to a familiar place,” she explains.
Nostalgia, Lina says, allows her to return to a specific time and place. “It’s a sensory portal. It captures a moment I once lived in my hometown, a moment that remains vivid in my heart.” She recalls evenings filled with music, shared meals and conversation; but also quieter moments, including standing on her grandmother’s rooftop, “feeling both rooted and infinite.” The painting, she adds more simply, “holds memory, longing, and presence,” functioning as a way of re-experiencing something that no longer exists.
What aspects of Iraqi history and values have influenced your work?
“My work is deeply rooted in the rich cultural and historical tapestry of Iraq, a land of ancient civilisations, poetry, resilience, and profound beauty. The legacy of Mesopotamia, with its art, symbolism, and storytelling traditions, continues to shape how I approach visual expression,” she says.
Lina also points to something less well defined but equally significant: “I’m particularly influenced by the strength and endurance of the Iraqi spirit, the ability to create, rebuild, and find beauty even in hardship.”
One of your most striking works responds to the 2019 Iraqi uprising. What inspired this piece, and how does it resonate with you personally?
“This piece was created specifically for an exhibition held in solidarity with the 2019 uprising in Iraq, a movement led by brave young people demanding nothing more than basic rights, dignity, and a future worth living for. What inspired this piece was not just the tragedy of what happened, but the deep emotional urgency I felt watching the protests unfold from afar,” she explains.
Lina goes on to describe the violence faced by protesters and the emotional impact it had on her. “As an Iraqi, even in the diaspora, every image triggered helplessness and heartbreak, and that grief had to take form. This piece became my way of bearing witness, of refusing silence,” she says. The title, We do not die; rather, we are born from the rose of smoke, is drawn from a poem by Iraqi writer Farouq Salloum, a line Lina felt captured something important about the moment. “It’s not just about loss, it’s about resilience,” she says.
What inspired you to pursue art so wholeheartedly?
‘“Art was never just an option, it always felt like an extension of who I am. I grew up surrounded by Iraqi art and culture, immersed in its textures, colours, symbols, and emotional depth,” she says, describing an early environment where creativity was part of everyday life. Coming from a family of architects, she was introduced to ideas of form, structure and space from a young age, concepts which continue to inform how she approaches her work.
She explains that her family’s encouragement made it possible to pursue art without hesitation, giving her the confidence to treat it as a serious career path. Over time, it became clear that other directions didn’t offer the same sense of fulfilment. “I wasn’t happy or fulfilled doing anything else. Art gave me a sense of being, a way to process the world and connect with my heritage,” she says. She also reflects on the communicative potential of art, describing it as something that can connect people across different cultures without relying on shared language.
- Published: 8th April, 2026
- Location: London
- Country: Iraq
- Editor: Ben McInerny
- Category: Heritage
