One of the year’s most acclaimed hip-hop songs nearly fell apart in its final stages. So Be It, the lead single from American duo Clipse’s long-awaited reunion album Let God Sort Em Out, is built around a sample of Maza Akoulou, a song recorded by the late Saudi singer Talal Maddah in the 1970s. The track was almost pulled off the album because clearance from Maddah’s estate was running out of time.
As a last attempt to keep the sample, the group contacted Swizz Beatz (real name Kasseem Dean), the Grammy-winning producer who has spent more than five years working across the Gulf in cultural and sporting roles.
Dean says he was already travelling to Riyadh and took the required meetings in person. The clearance was completed within days of his arrival. Released in June, So Be It became a key track of Let God Sort Em Out, which is now in the running for Best Rap Album at next year’s Grammy Awards.
Dean downplays the moment and says the experience reflects what he learnt through his time in the region. “A lot of people think this region is transactional. You can do business for sure, but if you move like that, it will take the long way around. The people here are smart. You still have to earn it,” he says.
The anecdote captures the way Dean has been working in the Gulf, where he describes the ethos as “relationships over transactions”, reflected in everything from art exhibitions and creative programmes to a camel racing team that became a winner on the Saudi circuit.
Doha sits at the centre of Dean’s latest venture, Qatar Airways Creative 100, launched with the national carrier and scheduled to host a gala event at Art Basel Doha in February. The event is designed to bring together a hundred figures from music, art, design, film, fashion, sport and technology each year.
Among the first names announced are Black Coffee, the Grammy-winning South African DJ and producer, Olympic fencing champion Miles Chamley-Watson, jewellery designer Yoon Ahn and Flavio Manzoni, chief design officer at Ferrari. Dean confirms regional names will be announced soon, including Qatari and Emirati cultural personalities.
Dean says he doesn’t want the initiative to function as a “who’s who list” of the creative industry. Instead, it is meant to be an evolving fellowship of creatives who can collaborate outside their usual practices and build work that moves across disciplines.
“No disrespect to any of the lists that are out there. This is more of a community,” he says. “We are picking people because they are already doing amazing things, and we are taking our time to build it the right way. Leading up to February is when the full list will be finished. It is not like we printed something and a week later said: ‘OK, that is it.’ The creatives are connecting together. It feels like a cohort, like a family, going out into the world and continuing to do amazing things.”
In addition to designing the livery for the Qatar Airways plane – in a slick burgundy, black and silver Formula One-inspired scheme – Dean is also planning to bring his own art fair, No Commission, to Doha next year. Launched in 2015, the fair has already travelled through Miami, London and Shanghai, and it operates on one rule: artists keep 100 per cent of their sales.
“No Commission is me and my family giving back to the creatives,” he says. “We are not a gallery. We are not brokers. We are patrons. I saw too many shows leaning towards the fairs and the collectives and not the artist. Instead of complaining, I said, let us build something where the artist keeps 100 per cent. Let them feel their power. Let them see what the ecosystem looks like when they come first.”
The Doha event will include artists from across the Gulf, selected by curators and advisers working locally and in the wider region.
Dean’s current work in Doha builds on two decades of visits, collaboration and cultural immersion in the Gulf. That timeline begins with a lesser-known role he played in shaping the early aesthetics of Dubai’s coastal district Jumeirah Beach Residence. He recalls taking a short-term advisory role with developers in 2006, four years before the area was formally launched. At the time, the original vision was markedly different from what it became. “When I first went there, they were making it look like a Wall Street thing,” he says.
“A lot of guys in suits, a very corporate, very financial district. And I remember thinking, Dubai already has that. They already have the serious business side. This did not need to be another version of that. This did not need to look like the new Wall Street. This area, to me, looked like Miami. The palm trees, the water, the movement. The youth could be here. If you leaned into that, the whole space could breathe.”
The experience also gave him an early sense of how quickly things move in the Gulf and the possibilities that pace opens up. “Those days in Dubai showed me the pace of decision-making out here,” he says. “You know how it is. Everything has to happen tomorrow when you finally get the ‘yes’. A three-year project can be done in two weeks. And you have to meet that energy. If you cannot move at that speed, you are not ready for this region.”
It also pushed Dean to recalibrate his own approach. “I had 20 ideas I thought I was going to do from real estate to different businesses,” he says. “But I realised if I grabbed everything off the floor, I would burn relationships. I had to pull back and be a student of the culture first.”
This meant return visits to absorb the cultural scene, including a trip to Sharjah, where he met Barjeel Art Foundation founder Sultan Sooud Al Qassemi, whom he credits with giving him an insight into contemporary art from the region.
“Sultan was my entry point and I was invited to Sharjah to see the museums,” Dean says. “He is an amazing person. The energy, the enthusiasm, the way he spoke about the work, it was different. He was ready to go, ready to have fun with it. That visit introduced me to people I still keep in touch with today.”
Dean’s Saudi work came later. It included appearing at the inaugural Soundstorm festival in 2019 and taking part in panel discussions at the annual industry conference and showcase XP Music Futures. His former Riyadh-based consulting company, Good Intentions, developed cultural programming across the kingdom. Among its projects was commissioning a golden falcon sculpture by Canadian artist Kwest, the first installation for what is now the Jeddah Art Promenade.
Good Intentions also helped produce a conference featuring Saudi women leaders and creatives. Last year’s event included a panel session with Grammy-winning singer Alicia Keys – who is also Dean’s wife.
During a visit in 2020, a friend suggested he watch a camel race. Dean recalls being taken to the track and seeing a sport built on heritage, community and careful preparation. Those elements led him to start his own team, Saudi Bronx, named in part after the New York City borough where he was born.
“Here, you feel a different type of passion, a different type of hunger, a different type of camaraderie, a different type of brotherhood,” he says. “I did Saudi Bronx because I thought it was a great homage back to the region. It is representing and celebrating the Bedouin culture, which I am in love with.”
He says the sport has yet to reach its potential, and part of that comes down to how it is presented to audiences. “It is basically one camera following the race for like four hours and we need to change that,” he says. “I have many ideas for camel racing. I have 10 things that I feel can multiply the business between three to five times immediately. But the heritage is so deep it will take time.”
Dean’s business acumen is built from the rigours and disappointments of the music industry, something he is keen to pass on to Arab creatives as they forge their own paths.
He recalls his heady period in the early 2000s, when production work for artists such as DMX, Eve and Beyoncé made him one of the most in-demand names in the business. “Success is heavy, man, and there was a period I had nine songs on radio at the same time,” he says. “Then I had only three songs, and that is still is a lot, but people thought I fell off and they began to move on to the next person. Corporate companies like to pick who is the flavour of the month. They will use you, then eject you when their mission is done. They have their plan. As an artist, you have to have your plan.”
That outlook now underpins all of his regional projects, each tied to artists owning their work and understanding how their respective businesses operate.
“I created the Creative 100 as an IP so we can make brands responsible for creativity for the long term. Everything is business, and you need to know how it comes together so the artist does not get hurt,” he says. “Never abandon the core idea. You might need some temporary moves to get there, but the foundation has to stay the same. At the end of the day, as an artist, you have to have your own plan.”
FOLLOW TN MAGAZINE