photo américain

new graffiti photos

Blue ostrich with it's head in the sand. A pointed metaphor for current politicians? The text above it is an ad for a nearby car or bike rental place. This is along a road that goes between Ain Mreisse and Hamra and along the eastern side of AUB.

In French it says "One is not born under the same star." Seems sad and poignant. The stencils on the left are gesticulating stick people.

Above "Roy" is a stencil image of hair and sunglasses.

A man's face. Underneath it seems there used to be other, freehand, graffiti. All the above photos are in the same area, around the top of the stairs that go down along the side of AUB towards the corniche.

Appropriately across the street from the new Graffiti cafe in Hamra. It's hard to see but besides the tv and the Eagle are several small pink helicopters.

Emily Jacir

Congratulations to Emily Jacir. She won the Golden Lion at the 52nd Venice Biennale. Jacir's contribution to "Think with the Senses, Feel with the Mind," curated by Robert Storr, is titled "Material for a Film."

[Photo from Electronic Intifada. A part of Jacir's exhibit at the Venice Biennale, with a photo of Wael Zuaiter on the wall.]

She wrote about her project for Electronic Intifada in July. It's a sad and fascinating story of the Palestinian poet Wael Zuaiter and his assassination in Rome by Israeli agents in 1972. I gather that his story is depicted at least partially in the recent film Munich. Jacir's investigation into his life is poignant and direct. She interviewed people he knew, visited the apartment building where he lived and was shot 12 times, read letters and looked at the archives of his life.

When he was shot one bullet lodged in an old Arabic book of 1001 Nights, which he was translating into Italian. Jacir photographed all the pages that were marked by the bullet. She learned to fire a .22 caliber pistol, the gun the Mossad used to assassinate him, then shot 1,000 blank white books. These were put on display with the photos of the scarred 1001 Nights volume and other materials she gathered. I wish I could have seen the exhibit, but I was affected even just reading her account of the project. I recommend reading her short essay.


[Photo from Electronic Intifada. The photos of the bullet-scarred 1001 Nights, blank books shot by Jacir beyond.]

I wrote a short blurb (see below) about Jacir's work in 2005 for the book The Struggle for Sovereignty: Palestine and Israel, 1993-2005, edited by Joel Beinin and Rebecca Stein. [Incidentally, I was also responsible for finding and procuring the photographs for the book, including the cover.]

Emily Jacir poignantly distills the Palestinian experience of displacement into politically astute conceptual art. Living and working in both New York city and Ramallah, she constructs paths to lost or inaccessible places and memories with words, rough materials (such as newspaper, thread and tent canvas), and photographs. Often her work draws friends and strangers into the artistic process, using them to amplify the message. In "Sexy Semite" (2000 – 2002) she asked Palestinians in New York city to submit satirical personal ads to the Village Voice newspaper in a mock search for Jewish partners with whom they could return home via Israel's "law of return," applicable only to Jews. Jacir collaborated with strangers when she opened her studio to anyone who volunteered to sew a village name onto a refugee tent in "Memorial to 418 Palestinian Villages That Were Destroyed, Depopulated and Occupied by Israel in 1948." (2001)

In "Where We Come From," (2001 – 2003) Jacir asked Palestinians around the world and in the occupied territories: "If I could do anything for you anywhere in Palestine what would it be?" Jacir positioned herself as a conduit for others, using her American passport to traverse restricted landscapes on their behalf. As in the example reproduced in this volume, "Omayma," she documented the requests and her attempts to fulfill them in texts and photographs. Here, as in much of her work, Jacir traces the intricate Palestinian web of severed relationships, lost property and remembered experiences that crisscrosses Israel, the West Bank and Gaza.

[Cover photo by Bruno Stevens/Cosmos/Aurora]

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lunch by the Litani

[Purple flowers by the Litani]

The other day I went with a friend to Marjayoun, a town in the south, and then had lunch with a few other friends by the Litani River. We drove out of Beirut past a line of small billboards decorated with Iranian flags planted in the median between the roads, perhaps commemorating Iran's support of reconstruction projects after the war last summer. Saida (Sidon) on the coast was our first stop, for a quick coffee and croissant and then permission from the military to head on to Marjayoun. Well, we were supposed to be quick, but by the time we got back from coffee we discovered our meter had run out 13 minutes before, we had a ticket and one wheel was clamped! It must be common phenomenon since the people around knowingly waved us over to the guy who could help find the culprit. In the end we only paid about $4 and were on our way again pretty quick. I guess that the clamp insures that you are there to pay the ticket when the meter guys come back around. Similar to the way I pay household utility bills directly to the collectors that come to the door once a month. No mailing in checks here.

Next stop was the military base. Permission was given quickly, scribbled on a small piece of paper, but only because my friend knows the guy from previous research trips. I'm not sure what the potential tourist might do. Get turned back at the checkpoint between Nabatiyeh and Marjayoun I suppose. I admit I'm not sure why one needs permission. I assume because this area is very close to the Israeli and Syrian borders. I gather it's part of the Lebanese army asserting control over the south after the war with Israel last summer.

Traveling east up into the hills from the coast at Saida were stretches of road decorated with Hizballah flags and sentimental posters of their leaders and fallen fighters. Other areas flew Amal flags. This region is mixed, Christian-Muslim, so churches and roadside altars with statuettes of Mary and saints with votive candles appeared as well. Lebanese army jeeps passed, but there seemed to be more UNIFIL soldiers looking tense in their blue helmets. In Marjayoun our phones weren't working momentarily while we were buying more minutes and the cell phone store guy explained the network is jammed when UN convoys drive through. Perhaps in response to the remotely detonated car bomb this summer that killed 6 Spanish UN soldiers.

Despite the politicized and militarized feel of the area it's also quite beautiful. The hills are at times steep and rocky and are a pale straw color with just some patches of green and yellow flowering bushes. Rains should have begun by now, but instead we're having hot hazy weather. (And water problems around the country.) There is a lot of building going on, not so attractive concrete shops along the road and some ostentatious large houses on hills. Being occupied for 20 years by Israel kept development at a minimum, so there is lots of open space. But also problems with deteriorated roads and provision of utilities like phone lines. Though my friend was telling me stories of some places benefiting from Israeli medical equipment and fiber optic cables during the occupation that they lack now. The Lebanese government is criticized for not extending public services to the south very well. Thus leaving space for other groups like Hizballah to step in and assist residents.

So, eventually we met up with our friends for a very peaceful lunch at a small restaurant at the end of a dirt road next to the river in the valley below Marjayoun. We ate grilled fish, fried potatoes, moutabbal, fattoush and zaatar (fresh thyme) salad.

[End of our table next to the Litani River.]

[Chair embedded in the riverside.]

Over lunch we talked about journalism, research, filmmaking. Unlike me, the three friends are all part Lebanese and part something else, so we had an interesting time talking about identity too.

We explored a little around the edge of the river and found this gorgeous bright green frog.

Not such a different color from our Arabic coffee pot and green tangerines after lunch.

Pomegranates were delicious too...

Cats alert

If you like the cat photos, check the photo album on the right side, I've added some more.

improvised music in Beirut

The other night I went with some friends to hear a group called 6 at a theater in Ashrafiye. The event was billed as a "free improvised music concert." Free as in, for example, free jazz, not free entry. There were six musicians playing with their instruments -- trumpet, guitar, drums, saxophone and double bass (though the poster said "electronics" for that musician).

I said playing with because the music came from their creative manipulation of the sounds made by scraping, vibrating, scratching, plucking, rapping, and sawing on their instruments with various tools. The trumpet, by Mazen Kerbaj, was my favorite. His techniques were a bit different since it's an instrument you blow air through (must be a word for that). (The saxophone too of course, but his back was to me, so I can't describe his methods.) So, Kerbaj often put objects directly in front of the horn such as an aluminum plate, glass bowl, plastic things. Sometimes he just blew through the trumpet in a different way or through alternative pipes, creating new sounds. (Kerbaj is also a visual artist whose drawings have appeared in Middle East Report, for example see this cover.)

The effect of all this was really mesmerizing. I imagined doors creaking, trams rattling, machines, busy streets, industrial landscapes, screams, birds chirping, fog horns, cities, raspy breathing, ships and much more. That might seem very unmusical, but it's the way they made the sounds build up or ebb away and intertwine with each other and create patterns that made it so engaging.

For me, the sounds conjured up images from the films of Jan Svankmajer and the Brothers Quay, Andrei Tarkovsky and Dziga Vertov (the movie Man with a Movie Camera poster below). So, it was a really enjoyable evening.

sporting

Views of the Mediterranean from the "beach" club called Sporting. It's a set of concrete terraces out on the edge of Ras Beirut with outdoor pools and access to the sea. Despite the fact that there's no sand to call a beach, it's a lovely place with its great views and sea breezes (and fantastic icy lemonade). These photos were taken at the end of the day, after summer, so there were few people left and the sea water pools were being drained. I like the minimalist feel of the place, nothing fancy.

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exploring my neighborhood (again)

I was about to go to a photo exhibit at Galerie Sfeir-Semler, but there is so much traffic this afternoon and it's way across town. Today's the last day of Ramadan, the month when Muslims fast during daylight hours, and everyone seems to be out getting ready for the 3 days of Eid el-Fitr, when people will go to the mosque, visit family and friends, give gifts and generally celebrate. So, instead I'm home scanning some recent photos of Hamra. The exhibit will still be there next week.

[Captain's Cabin, another example of the curious facades and odd themes of bars in Hamra. This one makes pretty good fish and chips and is not, that I know of, a disreputable place like some others around.]

[An old building that I'm fond of on Sadat Street. Rafik Hariri posters on the wall. I like the light inside the bottom door and the fan in the top balcony.]

[Same building, ornate window grates. Posters and graffiti adorn almost all available wall space here.]

[There's a gate to the backyard of this building, and through it you can glimpse the overgrown garden plants, like the hibiscus, one yellow bloom remaining.]

[After I took the photo above looking through the gate into the backyard, I stepped back and noticed two cats watching me. One is up on the wall on the right. Then I noticed the tiny kitten perched on top of the column in the middle, no wonder they were monitoring my every move. But really I took this photo because I like the textures and designs of the graffiti, gate and column.]

[Same building, looking up.]

Lebanese politics

One reason I find Lebanese politics difficult to follow is that it seems obvious no one is telling the truth. Besides verbally attacking each other, politicians here talk often about finding a compromise between the main factions or they say things aren't as bad as they seem. The news constantly reports that various leaders are planning to meet and talk things out. And yet, none of that ever makes the slightest difference, the crisis continues or worsens. In the Middle East Report Online article titled "Rallying Around the Renegade," Heiko Wimmen describes the system as a "Byzantine political game, whereby decisions and distributions of spoils are supposed to be worked out behind impenetrable smokescreens of lofty principles and diplomatic cant." This is definitely how it appears to me.

As the article points out, the traditional leaders (and a few newcomers) don't want this system of back room dealing to change. However, those in the opposition do. Their motives might be just as self-serving, but they talk about increasing transparency in the system and combating corruption and nepotism. I can see the appeal. This situation also reminds me that I read recently that much of the civil war (1975-1990) was a battle between those who were defending the status quo and those who wanted reforms and a non-sectarian system. Much is different now, and perhaps that sort of dynamic is usually present in civil conflicts, but still it strikes me as eerie.

Wimmen's excellent article is primarily about Michel Aoun and his Free Patriotic Movement. He describes Aoun's history, appeal and popularity and discusses why he is now aligned with the Hizballah-led opposition and despised by people in the ruling March 14th coalition. Along the way he illuminates how Lebanese politics works (or rather, doesn't) and why the country is in such a stalemate now. Very worthwhile reading.

Anyhow, I'm not a political expert of any kind, so my comments are necessarily simplistic. Read the article.