Ten Curators in support of Khaled Sabsabi: Edition 7

Artist Profile will be publishing ten pieces of text from international and local curators as a series of editions. These distinguished curators provided their words voluntarily in support of Khaled Sabsabi and curator Michael Dagostino after Creative Australia “honoured Khaled and dishonoured him” (Simryn Gill, 7.30 Report) in less than a week of announcing Sabsabi and Dagostino as the 2026 Venice Biennale team to represent Australia.

The call for the reinstatement of Sabsabi and Dagostino has been loud and strong from within the visual arts community here and abroad. The curators in support of Sabsabi have previously written on and curated his artwork.

Ivan Muñiz Reed is a Mexican curator, writer, and researcher based in Sydney. He is Senior Exhibition Curator at the Powerhouse, Sydney, and has worked with Kadist Art Foundation in San Francisco and the Museum of Contemporary Art Australia, where he first engaged with Khaled Sabsabi’s practice through Glenn Barkley’s curation of 'Making it New: Focus on Contemporary Australian Art' in 2009.

Organised Confusion, 2014, is a multi-channel installation that continues Khaled Sabsabi’s investigation into systems of belief and spirituality, and their role in the construction of both our individual and collective identities. Two video channels projected onto opposing walls capture the football fan club “Red and Black Bloc,” united in their fervent support of the Western Sydney Wanderers. The towering, larger-than-life scale of the projections, coupled with the en-masse chanting and coordinated movements, immerse the viewer inside the dense multitude, giving them a glimpse of the heightened energy collectively performed and experienced by the crowd.

Between the projections — and in contrast to the red-and-black clad crowd — a row of six black-and-white videos of a smaller scale feature established Javanese dancer Agung Gunawan performing a series of careful, meditative movements. The mask that Gunawan wears references Topeng dance, a traditional form of Javanese masked dancing that dates back to the ninth century and is often performed to depict spiritual narratives. Opposite the black-and-white screens, the same wooden mask that Gunawan wears in the videos rest on top of a plinth with a series of white and red stripes painted over it — the colours of the Western Sydney Wanderers. The mask here acts like a bridge that connects the frantic crowds with the introspective dancer. Despite their obvious differences, Sabsabi brings our attention to their similarities, highlighting them both as forms of heightened, perhaps spiritual experience. A connection to something greater than oneself, either through collective action, or profound introspection.

Sydney’s West and its diverse makeup have had an essential role in Sabsabi’s practice. Sabsabi migrated to Western Sydney at age twelve after he fled the civil war in Lebanon with his family in 1977, and he continues to live and work there. Organised Confusion is a portrait of the coming together of a community that is bound not only by their fandom but by their histories of migration, diaspora, and resilience, which are close to the artist’s own lived experience.

Sabsabi’s work has always been grounded in deep listening, care, and an unwavering commitment to community, qualities that have defined his three-decade career. He is an artist who builds trust through meaningful relationships, earning the respect of those whose stories he shares. His practice is an exercise in generosity, offering audiences a window into worlds they might not otherwise encounter—whether the pulsating energy of a football crowd or the quiet introspection of a Naqshbandi Sufi ceremony in Western Sydney. It is precisely this ability to hold complexity—embracing both the deeply personal and the universal—that makes Creative Australia’s decision so troubling. To withdraw his invitation based on speculation about a “prolonged and divisive debate” is to preemptively censor critical discourse, prioritising political agendas over the fundamental role of art in fostering understanding.

At a time when we need more spaces for difficult conversations, Sabsabi’s work invites us to see beyond binaries, to acknowledge difference while finding common ground. Despite the fear-driven decisions made by Creative Australia, I have full confidence that Sabsabi’s practice will continue to inspire, reshape public discourse on what it means to be Australian, and reverberate for generations.

Creative Australia may have chosen fear, but Sabsabi has always chosen trust. His work is not bound by the decisions of institutions—it moves through people, through memory, through the quiet acts of care that define his practice. His legacy is already larger than any single stage, deeper than any single moment. It will continue to resonate, to gather, to bring people together in ways that outlast controversy and transcend borders.