October Thoughts: A Walk in Beirut
I have been focusing my energy differently for the past few month. This time my creative energy has been channelled into the plastic arts rather than in essay or article writing.
I have been busy producing a series of drawings, collages and Cornell like boxes. The three different ways of constructing images often have a common theme. In each approach, there is an attempt to reach order through framing the juxtaposition of colors and shapes with linear structures. The superimposed structure lies atop of the imagery which sets the tone/mood of the piece.
The process described above mirrors my experience in Beirut. When I first arrived, I signed onto a new life: one as a student of the Middle East in the Middle East. Howevery, before I could think of the implications of the experience, I was thrown into a whirlwind of local and regional affairs messily intertwined with international foreign policy struggles over the Middle East. The further immersed I became in the events, I understood the mood, but lost track of the framework.
Arriving around what seemed a pinnacle time in Lebanon's history, I like many others stood witness and lived through a Lebanese's pulse pumping hope, distress and betrayal through the nation's veins. There was joy, anger, and tension.
Despite the optimism felt during the rallies, it was impossible to ignore the unnerving and mostly successful assasinations attempts against anti-Syrian voices, with in the backdrop a persistant bombing campaign blowing Lebanese christian businesses.
It was impossible to ignore the increasingly alienated and defiant presidency; the hot and humid month of August; and by October a depressed population let down by the re-emergence of political squabbles, and the slump of a retarded economy.
DEPARTURE
After five straight months in Lebanon I was eager to take a break from new experience. However, as soon as I set foot on the plane on my way to Morocco, my chest tightened with worry and regret. I felt that I should not be leaving even if for a few days: "What if something happens?" I thought to myself, "What about Beirut and its people?" I began missing Lebanon and we had not even taken off.
It was an inexplicable sensation which when described to a Lebanese would be received with a nod of recognition, followed by: "Ah, you too you feel it. It is strange though because you are foreigners, and we never understand why foreigners get so attached to this place."
To be honest, I do not have the slightest idea as to why we become attached to this place, and yet at the same time, I could make you a list that stretched the length of the Mediterranean, starting from its fartherst eastern shore all the way down to its narrow neck, the Straits of Gibraltar.
A WALK
What is appealing about Lebanon and its overbuilt and polluted Beirut?
Each time I walk in the street, I am struck by the densely packed urban landscape with endless layers of facades rising one above another.
"Oh! There to your right, through the dark passageway. Can't you see the framed shot of the facade with the honeyed afternoon light poured all over it? It's just there at the end of this covered short cut to that street... Oh what is the name of that street again... it has been nine months, and I can't believe I still don't know the name of that street there just paralell to Hamra."
Then in the densely layered cityscape, each building and neighborhood is connected through the unruly mass of wires traveling at all heights and depths high above your head, crossing the street or simply moving in the same direction you are walking. Pirated electricity flows over you and connects each building like grey and dirty-white jungle vines.
RETURN
By the time I returned from Morocco Beirut had changed. Beirut could no longer be defined as a first experience which I shared with the outside world.
As soon as I got off the plane, the familiarity of the airport made me realize I was coming home. Lebanon and Beirut had reached the realm of the personal.
Beirut turned out to be an inspiring place, transforming the frustratition, anger, fear, and joy and happiness into a creative process.
"How can people survive in such a messy place." I thought to myself as I tore another piece of magazine glueing it to a sheet of paper setting up the tone of the collage.
The maddeness and maddening aspect of this city offers an inexhaustible source of inspiration because it is the center for all paradoxes riding simultaneoulsly the second hand of a watch.
Like the electrical wires making everyone's buildings, the business of everyone else's. The density of humanity, and importance of family and friend alliance are fundamental and inescapable in a country which can be driven from its northern frontier to its southern one in four hours, west to east in two.
Like in any other middle eastern city, in Beirut everyone knows everybody in the neighborhood. There is talk everywhere and about everything, and yet the important things remain unspoken. The past, the divisions, the hatred, the suspicion, the religious difference, the fear, the corruption, these themes pertain to the realm of silence.
PARADOX
Beirut is like an eye for the Middle East as it is where all the nerve endings of the Arab world end up. It strives for modernity and democracy, and yet it is machista and paternalistic. Elements of Middle Eastern and Gulfy culture are reinacted in segments of the mosaic society.
The most intriguing aspect of this place is the god Paradox, living like a Roman God- alive and well- right here in our midst.
Paradox appears at all levels of life out here, from the landscape, to the architecture, and community and individual behaviors.
It teases us, sticks it tongue out, tickles us, provokes and makes us laugh and scream all at the same time.
Paradox agitates entropy, with few agreeing cohesively on issues. There are many under-currents, counter-currents, and nefarious presences, which organize this place but make predicting the future impossible.
Lebanon functions, but with a limp. It's curved structures are unsound. Yet, like each great city in the world which may come to be described by its energy , Beirut unquestionably ranks amongst them as it too has a pulse.
It is hard to know why it does until you feel the pang when you get on the plane ready to leave. You didn't even know it happened, but you were bitten by something invisible. Chances are you will be back.
I won't be surprised if I bump into you around Hamra street, or walking up from the American University of Beirut's beautiful grounds along Jeanne D'Arc, right by the corner where the pink building is.
I have been busy producing a series of drawings, collages and Cornell like boxes. The three different ways of constructing images often have a common theme. In each approach, there is an attempt to reach order through framing the juxtaposition of colors and shapes with linear structures. The superimposed structure lies atop of the imagery which sets the tone/mood of the piece.
The process described above mirrors my experience in Beirut. When I first arrived, I signed onto a new life: one as a student of the Middle East in the Middle East. Howevery, before I could think of the implications of the experience, I was thrown into a whirlwind of local and regional affairs messily intertwined with international foreign policy struggles over the Middle East. The further immersed I became in the events, I understood the mood, but lost track of the framework.
Arriving around what seemed a pinnacle time in Lebanon's history, I like many others stood witness and lived through a Lebanese's pulse pumping hope, distress and betrayal through the nation's veins. There was joy, anger, and tension.
Despite the optimism felt during the rallies, it was impossible to ignore the unnerving and mostly successful assasinations attempts against anti-Syrian voices, with in the backdrop a persistant bombing campaign blowing Lebanese christian businesses.
It was impossible to ignore the increasingly alienated and defiant presidency; the hot and humid month of August; and by October a depressed population let down by the re-emergence of political squabbles, and the slump of a retarded economy.
DEPARTURE
After five straight months in Lebanon I was eager to take a break from new experience. However, as soon as I set foot on the plane on my way to Morocco, my chest tightened with worry and regret. I felt that I should not be leaving even if for a few days: "What if something happens?" I thought to myself, "What about Beirut and its people?" I began missing Lebanon and we had not even taken off.
It was an inexplicable sensation which when described to a Lebanese would be received with a nod of recognition, followed by: "Ah, you too you feel it. It is strange though because you are foreigners, and we never understand why foreigners get so attached to this place."
To be honest, I do not have the slightest idea as to why we become attached to this place, and yet at the same time, I could make you a list that stretched the length of the Mediterranean, starting from its fartherst eastern shore all the way down to its narrow neck, the Straits of Gibraltar.
A WALK
What is appealing about Lebanon and its overbuilt and polluted Beirut?
Each time I walk in the street, I am struck by the densely packed urban landscape with endless layers of facades rising one above another.
"Oh! There to your right, through the dark passageway. Can't you see the framed shot of the facade with the honeyed afternoon light poured all over it? It's just there at the end of this covered short cut to that street... Oh what is the name of that street again... it has been nine months, and I can't believe I still don't know the name of that street there just paralell to Hamra."
Then in the densely layered cityscape, each building and neighborhood is connected through the unruly mass of wires traveling at all heights and depths high above your head, crossing the street or simply moving in the same direction you are walking. Pirated electricity flows over you and connects each building like grey and dirty-white jungle vines.
RETURN
By the time I returned from Morocco Beirut had changed. Beirut could no longer be defined as a first experience which I shared with the outside world.
As soon as I got off the plane, the familiarity of the airport made me realize I was coming home. Lebanon and Beirut had reached the realm of the personal.
Beirut turned out to be an inspiring place, transforming the frustratition, anger, fear, and joy and happiness into a creative process.
"How can people survive in such a messy place." I thought to myself as I tore another piece of magazine glueing it to a sheet of paper setting up the tone of the collage.
The maddeness and maddening aspect of this city offers an inexhaustible source of inspiration because it is the center for all paradoxes riding simultaneoulsly the second hand of a watch.
Like the electrical wires making everyone's buildings, the business of everyone else's. The density of humanity, and importance of family and friend alliance are fundamental and inescapable in a country which can be driven from its northern frontier to its southern one in four hours, west to east in two.
Like in any other middle eastern city, in Beirut everyone knows everybody in the neighborhood. There is talk everywhere and about everything, and yet the important things remain unspoken. The past, the divisions, the hatred, the suspicion, the religious difference, the fear, the corruption, these themes pertain to the realm of silence.
PARADOX
Beirut is like an eye for the Middle East as it is where all the nerve endings of the Arab world end up. It strives for modernity and democracy, and yet it is machista and paternalistic. Elements of Middle Eastern and Gulfy culture are reinacted in segments of the mosaic society.
The most intriguing aspect of this place is the god Paradox, living like a Roman God- alive and well- right here in our midst.
Paradox appears at all levels of life out here, from the landscape, to the architecture, and community and individual behaviors.
It teases us, sticks it tongue out, tickles us, provokes and makes us laugh and scream all at the same time.
Paradox agitates entropy, with few agreeing cohesively on issues. There are many under-currents, counter-currents, and nefarious presences, which organize this place but make predicting the future impossible.
Lebanon functions, but with a limp. It's curved structures are unsound. Yet, like each great city in the world which may come to be described by its energy , Beirut unquestionably ranks amongst them as it too has a pulse.
It is hard to know why it does until you feel the pang when you get on the plane ready to leave. You didn't even know it happened, but you were bitten by something invisible. Chances are you will be back.
I won't be surprised if I bump into you around Hamra street, or walking up from the American University of Beirut's beautiful grounds along Jeanne D'Arc, right by the corner where the pink building is.
posted by Irina Prentice at 1:22 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home