A glimpse of the emirate's impressive cultural ambitions

AT THE Emirates Palace in Abu Dhabi, the sand on the private beach is imported from Algeria, the hostesses at reception are Filipino and the butlers are usually Indian. Representing 50 galleries from 18 countries, the art dealers who participated in the second edition of Abu Dhabi Art, from November 3rd to the 7th, were also an international mixed bag.

The event was less a fair than “a formal introduction to the cultural ambitions of Abu Dhabi,” explained Marc Glimcher from New York's Pace Gallery. “They're so big that they transcend a cynical response.” This sentiment was echoed by Hyung-Teh Do of Seoul's Hyundai Gallery, whose sophisticated stand included works by Ai Weiwei and Lee Ufan. “We are enjoying the unusual circumstances,” he said.

Many dealers brought art that they hoped might end up in the Louvre or Guggenheim being built nearby on Saadiyat Island. What is now nearly 2.5m square metres of sandy construction pits will be, by 2013 or soon thereafter, a world-class cultural destination featuring these two museums, among others. A few American dealers described feeling like they were making a pilgrimage to present their wares to the king. Though it was not entirely clear whom they were meant to impress when it came to acquisitions.

The patron of the art fair was his highness General Sheikh Mohammed bin Zayed Al Nahyan, crown prince of Abu Dhabi and deputy supreme commander of the United Arab Emirates Armed Forces. Art and arms might seem like an unusual pair of responsibilities until one considers the ambassadorial potential of modern art, which can be used as a bridge to the west and a hedge against religious fundamentalism.

The ceremonial duties of the fair were left to the crown prince's wife, Sheikha Salama bint Hamdan Al Nahyan, and sister-in-law, Sheikha Shamsa bint Hamdan Al Nahyan. The two women glided through the fair with their abeya-clad entourages and presided over sumptuous late-night feasts. They were also active buyers. Sheikha Salama, for example, bought a gold cabinet filled with “diamonds” by Damien Hirst from White Cube, a concave mirror sculpture by Anish Kapoor from Kamel Mennour, and a series of 17 text works called “The Prestige of Terror” by Adam Broomberg and Oliver Chanarin from Paradise Row, a London gallery that specialises in emerging artists.

Beneath the crown prince are a range of “excellencies” in ministerial positions and jobs at the Tourism Development and Investment Company (TDIC), a corporation owned by the government (ie, the royal family). Who does what is difficult to discern, but one person who emerges from the complex layer-cake of committees involved in Abu Dhabi's art initiatives is Rita Aoun Abdo, the Lebanese-born director of the TDIC's cultural department. Intelligent and charismatic, Ms Aoun Abdo has a flair for diplomacy and a gift for making policy-speak sound like poetry. Yet she is not the one responsible for weeding through the world's available Warhols to see which ones the emirate's museums should acquire.

When it comes to modern and contemporary art, this task would appear to be the burden of a key advisor, Richard Armstrong, the director of the Guggenheim, and his team of top-notch curators (including Nancy Spector, Suzanne Cotter, Valerie Hillings and Reem Fadda, their expert on art from the Middle East). Although the Louvre Abu Dhabi has acknowledged buying 19 works—including depictions of Buddha and Christ as well as an abstract Piet Mondrian from the collection of Yves Saint Laurent—the Guggenheim Abu Dhabi hasn't gone on the record about acquiring anything at all. An insider admits that the museum will likely have “nudes but no Mapplethorpes,” referring to the controversial American photographer.

Although bureaucratic, Abu Dhabi's art-acquisition model is smart. The contemporary art market is rife with confidence men and inside traders. Here the museum folk act as a protective buffer from consultants and dealers who, despite their lofty rhetoric, are driven by their own financial interests. Moreover, when embracing edgy art in a historically conservative place, one wants to avoid being swayed by aesthetic fads. Museum curators generally have longer memories than art marketers.

The situation calls for patience on the part of dealers. Saleh Barakat, whose 20-year old Agial Art Gallery specialises in Lebanese and Arab art, was serene. He was at the fair to defend an Arab point of view. “Picasso and Damien Hirst belong in the museum,” he said, “but so do the artists that express the heritage and cultural expectations of the region.”

Galleries exhibiting Arab and Persian art could rely on collectors visiting from Dubai, Sharjah, Kuwait, Tehran and Jedda. Sheikh Sultan Sooud Al-Qassemi, whose Barjeel Art Foundation in Sharjah is committed to promoting Arab art, added five pieces to his collection of 500 works—two by Saudi artists, two by Emiratis and one by a Syrian. Aside from a handful of collectors, including Sheikha Salama, a thirst for art that is neither Arab nor Persian has yet to hit the UAE. However, where princesses lead, others follow.

The fair included a few ghastly dealerships, such as London's Opera Gallery (whose thoughtless kitsch looks like art to the untrained eye, but is really an assortment of gimmicky design objects). But overall the quality of the stands was ambitious. David Zwirner presented a rigorous exhibition of Minimalist work. Johnson Chang's Hanart gallery introduced an interesting selection of contemporary Chinese artists. And Patrick Seguin offered an instructive narrative about Jean Prouvé as an architect.

Paul Schimmel, the chief curator of MOCA Los Angeles who was in town to interview Jeff Koons, summed up the fair for both its organisers and dealers: Abu Dhabi Art was “an act of faith in the future of the region.”