When Khai Hori first travelled to Abu Dhabi to discuss Manar, he arrived with more than curiosity. During the flight, the Singaporean artistic director drafted a curatorial framework titled the Light Compass, a concept that would shape the tone and direction of the public light art exhibition.
That instinctive clarity reflects the experience Hori brings to Manar Abu Dhabi. Unlike many curators whose profiles are closely tied to institutions or headline exhibitions, Hori has built a career defined by long-term thinking, mentorship and a preference for substance over spectacle.
He began his professional life as an artist after studying in Singapore in the mid-1990s. His early years moved fluidly between visual art, theatre and independent production before he took on an arts management role at Singapore Management University. There, he curated visual arts festivals and established a residency programme for South-East Asian artists, an indication of his commitment to talent development rather than mere presentation.
Hori's curatorial career accelerated when he joined the Singapore Art Museum, where he rose to become senior curator. In that role, he oversaw the national contemporary art collection, managing acquisitions and conservation and helping to define how contemporary art would be represented within Singapore’s cultural narrative.
An invitation to Paris’s Palais de Tokyo followed, after the institution’s leadership engaged with Singapore’s art scene. Hori was appointed deputy director of artistic programmes, a role created specifically for him, placing him at the centre of one of Europe’s most influential contemporary art spaces.
After several years in Paris, he returned to Singapore, briefly co-owning a commercial gallery before stepping away to focus fully on large-scale exhibitions and festivals, often commissioned by governments and cultural organisations.
“I’ve mostly operated under the radar,” Hori says. “Many of my projects are developmental and not designed to be highly visible. They’re about building ecosystems and giving artists space to grow.”
That philosophy shaped his approach to Manar Abu Dhabi, which marks the first time the exhibition has appointed an external creative director. While the curatorial team already included experienced voices from within Abu Dhabi’s cultural institutions, Hori was invited to offer an outside perspective. The result is an edition of Manar that resists easy classification as a technology-led light festival.
One of the clearest indicators of this approach is what the team deliberately chose not to prioritise.
“We honestly never discussed what would be instagrammable,” Hori says. “That’s evident when even we don’t know which angle to photograph from. We prioritised personal experience.”
In a global landscape where public art is often designed with social media circulation in mind, Manar places emphasis instead on atmosphere, scale and emotional response. Many of the works rely on darkness, silence and environment, elements that cannot be fully captured through photographs or video.
Visitors are encouraged to move freely through the site, and many do. Despite designated pathways, people often climb dunes, linger in unexpected places and treat the exhibition grounds as a shared public landscape rather than a prescribed route.
For Hori, this behaviour is a sign of success.
He recalls a moment during a tour with senior officials when the group abandoned the planned route after encountering a laser installation. They sat quietly in front of the work, observing it in silence. “Someone said they could meditate there,” he says. “That kind of response is very meaningful.”
This emphasis on contemplation is reinforced through language. The guidebook and artwork texts avoid technical explanations in favour of open-ended, poetic prompts. Rather than instructing viewers on what they are seeing, the texts invite reflection and curiosity.
“People respond emotionally first,” Hori says. “Then they start asking questions. That questioning is important.”
The project has also deepened his understanding of Abu Dhabi’s cultural landscape. Before arriving, his knowledge of the UAE art scene was largely shaped by Sharjah’s international profile. What he encountered instead was a long-established ecosystem, from Abu Dhabi Art, now in its 17th edition, to spaces such as 421, which has operated at museum-level standards for a decade.
More significantly, Hori sees a cultural alignment between Manar’s focus on light and the psychological and spiritual fabric of the city. Light, he notes, is embedded in language, religion and daily life. “A light art exhibition here cannot just be about technology,” he says. “It has to be about the soul.”
That sensitivity, he believes, reflects a broader understanding within Abu Dhabi of the role art plays in a rapidly developing society. Culture, tradition and refinement exist alongside ambition and economic growth, rather than being displaced by them.
Whether or not any of Manar’s works become permanent fixtures, Hori hopes the exhibition leaves a lasting impression. Not as a photograph shared online, but as an experience remembered.
“If Manar becomes part of someone’s core memory,” he says, “then we’ve done something right.”
