Still got the blues: A conversation with Samah Ahmed

The 56-year-old artist turns up at a coffeeshop in a plain grey t-shirt and blue jeans, very unassuming, and, I think, very on brand. She tells me she is "rubbish at things like this" and occasionally worries if she is making sense. Despite, or maybe because of this, we manage to have an interesting chat about her life as a student studying art in the UK, what led her to painting the sea, and if she believes her art has a purpose.

Samah: I was a mature student back then, around 2005. It was very much a kind of ‘do your own thing’ programme with visiting artists evaluating your progress. I was with a lot of younger people at the course, people who’d just finished their A-Levels and who really wanted to make something of themselves. I was a bit unsure as to what I wanted to do, unlike them. For the first few months I was clueless. 

Yes, I painted. For a while I was fascinated with Islamic geometric patterns, for instance. But one day, there was a Spanish visiting artist, a very eccentric character. I was pretty lost at that point, but she was very blunt and direct. She said: What matters to you? And being a Maldivian, I said ‘the sea,’ because we grew up in and around it, so it’s a big part of me, of my generation of people in Male, too.

So, the artist said: Read about the sea, fiction, non-fiction, and then she just left the room. And that’s what I did. I read about the sea, non-fiction accounts of couples who sailed round the world. I even attempted reading Moby Dick. I struggled obviously, it was such a huge book. So, that’s how I was led to painting the sea.   

I think so. By the way, I’ve only used three tones of blue in my paintings. And I’ve been painting for some twenty years now.

But there have been times when I thought: no, this isn’t going anywhere. Where I’ve been kind of stuck and re-evaluating my life. It’s kind of like how I was telling a friend the other day, I don’t really know if I am an artist. I swim, although I’m rubbish at it. I love to cycle. And I’ve even been through a phase where I thought I was a triathlete. And of course I love gardening. I’m just someone who does these things and then goes into her studio and paints sometimes. 

I used to spend eight months of the year in the UK, which was where I painted exclusively, and I painted from a sense of longing. That changed during COVID – I kind of got stuck here, and I went to the studio and found some blue paint lying around. And then I found myself painting again, and that’s it. There have always been breaks like that, but painting is something I find myself returning to.

Well, I’m probably not the best one to ask because I have very little connection to it. From the little I know, I think it’s mostly still kind of stuck in that tourist paradigm with the beautiful beaches, the fish and birdlife, and island idylls. But there are great artists now, like, off the top of my head, [Aishath] Huda for instance. And I find that the younger generation, the Gen Z’s, seem to get abstract art and are a lot more interested in it than people my age for instance.

There often is with art, especially with music, like when everyone was united during the 2008 election and during the coup era. I don’t know if it should be the case, but sometimes when the two combine it’s very powerful. 

That’s too deep for me. 

Well, it’s like a mood with me, I put on some music and kind of get lost in it, I really enjoy the process. It’s not art made for anyone, with an audience in mind – I make it for myself. I suppose it’s a kind of escapism, at least it is for me. And if someone finds value in it, then that’s really good.

Mark Rothko comes to mind of course. I also like the large-scale energetic works of Joan Mitchell, some I was able to view at The Tate a few months ago. When I was in college, I really loved the work of Peter Doig. I found some of his paintings very haunting. I've also loved reading Mary Oliver's poetry since I swapped my style to abstract painting. The way she writes about nature is something I'm very drawn to. The direct conversations she has with a little creature, or a plant is something that resonates with me in a way when I'm doing my laps in silence. I love the late David Lynch's films, The Straight Story being one of them. I enjoy the slowness of the whole film. I know I'm not referring to just 'artists' here, but these are people whose work I’ve found inspiring in many ways.