The Self-Taught Vancouver Artist Creating Islamic Art
In suburban British Columbia, Batul Adamjee sits on her bedroom floor, a blank canvas stretched out before her. At her fingertips, brushes lie scattered, some speckled with metallic hues and bristles long-worn from use. The carpet around her is stained colorful in a collection of moments that tell she’s done this before. With a deliberate stroke, she begins painting, her hand moving fluidly—and free handedly.
“I never plan my pieces,” she says, pausing to inspect the wet streaks of paint setting on her canvas. “It’s always spontaneous. I let the brush decide.”
At just 20 years old and entirely self-taught, Batul has become an artist to watch in modern Islamic art, bringing together the elegance of Arabic calligraphy with contemporary design. Her work aims to balance modernity with tradition, aiming to resonate with Muslims and non-Muslims alike.
A Passion is Born
Batul’s beginning as an artist can be traced to her upbringing in the Dawoodi Bohra community in Vancouver. Her earliest inspiration came from attending Ashara Mubaraka, an annual gathering in the Dawoodi Bohra calendar. “The tazyeen—the banners and the calligraphy that decorate the venue of such gatherings—left me in awe,” she recalls. “It was such a beautiful way to represent faith and culture. I knew I wanted to do something similar.”
It wasn’t until her grandfather suggested creating an Arabic calligraphy painting during the COVID-19 pandemic that her talent began to take shape. “He asked me to make a piece to decorate our home for Ashara—and that’s where it started,” Batul says. “I wanted to create something modern, elegant, something that can take inspiration from Western styles but also speak to my faith.”
Batul’s identity as a Canadian-born Muslim encompasses her work. “I try to make pieces that go beyond Islamic spaces. Even if someone doesn’t understand Arabic, they should still find it beautiful.”
The Art of Trial, Triumph, and Bob Ross
Becoming an artist, for Batul, involved quite a bit of experimentation and self-discovery. “Being self-taught is all about trial and error,” she says. “Sometimes a piece just doesn’t work, and I have to leave it in my closet for weeks. Other times, it comes together in hours.”
One of her most challenging projects was a five-foot-long commission of “Ya Husain” that took over 20 hours to complete. “Aligning everything and merging two canvases was a massive challenge. It really tested my patience, but it’s a piece I’ll always be proud of.”
Not every project goes smoothly. She recounts the time she accidentally painted an entire canvas the wrong color. “It was supposed to be one color, but I ended up painting it completely different,” she says with a laugh. “At first, all I could do was panic. But, in the words of Bob Ross—‘There are no mistakes, only happy accidents.’ I leaned into it, and the piece turned out better than I expected. That’s the beauty of art: anything can be fixed.”
Her work often draws inspiration from nature, particularly the serene landscapes of British Columbia where she’s lived her entire life. “I love using fan brushes to mimic wave effects or choosing colors that reflect sunsets and mountain ranges,” she says. “Nature has a rhythm that feels similar to calligraphy—it’s both spontaneous and intentional.”
Leaping into the Art World
Batul’s art found a broader audience when she exhibited her work at the 3rd Annual Islamic Art Exhibition held by Islamic Arts of British Columbia at Richmond Public Library. Initially, she was apprehensive. The youngest artist there, the only one self-taught, and the sole Canadian-born participant, the event felt way out of her league. “I was so nervous about how my work would be received,” she admits. “But the response was incredible.”
Visitors were particularly struck by her freehand calligraphy, which she creates without stencils or tracing. “People couldn’t believe it was all freehand. They kept asking how I did it,” she says. “It’s just the flow of my hand. That’s what makes it mine.”
A Dream Beyond the Canvas
Batul hopes to see her work transcend the canvas. Her dream? To contribute her calligraphy to Islamic architecture or the intricate tazyeen featured in Ashara Mubaraka. “Every tazyeen tells a story, capturing an aspect of Imam Hussain’s journey,” she says. “It would be an honor to be part of that tradition.”
For now, she balances her art with her university studies in kinesiology, but her passion never dries up. “Islamic art is limitless,” she reflects. “It’s not about perfection; it’s about the flow, the spirit, the story.”
When asked about how she would describe her artistic journey until now and going forward, Adamjee pauses, as though painting the words in her mind. “If my journey were a painting,” she says, “it would start simple, like an ombre canvas. But as you move across it, it grows richer, more detailed. It never ends—it just keeps flowing.”