From Manchester to Riyadh: Teaching Leatherwork Across Cultures

From Manchester to Riyadh: Teaching Leatherwork Across Cultures

There’s something universal about working with your hands. The rhythm of stitching, the feel of a well-worn awl, the smell of vegetable-tanned leather, it’s a language that crosses borders and speaks to something deep in all of us. I’ve felt it in my workshop in London and just as strongly in classrooms in Riyadh. Teaching leatherwork across cultures has been one of the most rewarding chapters of my journey, reminding me that while techniques may vary, the spirit of craft is shared.

Leather as a Bridge Between Cultures

When I first set foot in Riyadh, I didn’t quite know what to expect. I was there to teach traditional leatherworking to a new generation of Saudi creatives many of whom were exploring this craft for the first time. What I found was a genuine hunger to learn, a deep respect for making by hand, and an excitement that mirrored the curiosity I often see back home.

There’s a certain magic in watching someone thread a needle through leather for the first time, whether it’s in a studio on the outside of Manchester or a workshop in the heart of Saudi Arabia. You see the same spark—the same satisfaction of doing something real, tactile, and meaningful.

Adapting the Craft to New Contexts

One of the beautiful challenges of teaching abroad is adapting your methods without losing the soul of the craft. In Riyadh, we paid special attention to local materials and traditions, exploring how leatherwork could reflect Saudi heritage from traditional motifs and Islamic geometry to desert-inspired colour palettes.

The students responded with incredible creativity. Some reinterpreted classic bag designs with regional aesthetics, while others used the techniques to develop products that felt entirely new bold, functional, and culturally rooted.

Back in the UK, we often speak about craft revival, slowness, and mindfulness. In Saudi Arabia, many of the students I taught were drawn to leatherwork for those exact reasons. The global appetite for reconnection to materials, to heritage, and to the handmade isn’t just a trend. It’s a movement.

Shared Values, Unique Stories

Despite the differences in language, dress, and environment, the workshop space felt instantly familiar. There’s a quiet camaraderie that builds when people work side by side, focused on the task at hand. Leather has this way of pulling people into the present moment. It doesn’t matter where you are—the stitch still has to be straight, the edge still needs burnishing, and the cut still needs to be confident.

The tools we use are often centuries old in design, but their power lies in how they connect us. One student in Riyadh told me she felt like she was “carving her name into time” through her work. That stayed with me.

What I Took Back With Me

Teaching in Riyadh reminded me that craft is not just about technique it’s about exchange. I left with a renewed sense of purpose, inspired by the enthusiasm of my students and the way traditional craft can evolve without losing its integrity.

It also deepened my belief that teaching leatherwork isn’t just about making things it’s about building confidence, encouraging self-expression, and keeping history alive through the hands of the next generation.

Whether you’re stitching in a Manchester workshop or a Riyadh classroom, that essence doesn’t change. And that, I think, is the real power of leathercraft.

Find out more about our leather workshops at www.diamondawl.co.uk