By Lynn Ezzeddine | Staff Writer
“Can destruction create art?”, you may ask. In a country torn by war, the people had little room for anything but innovation. However, little did they know, their art was their only means of survival, and anyone’s will to live was theirs to keep…
Dia realized that photography could serve as a means to encapsulate reality – to showcase the past in the present moment. As the 4th of August became a turning point for artists who found even more meaning in their art, Dia Mrad – a Lebanese architectural photographer, realized that Beirut deserves to have a spotlight of its own. His photographs before the explosion have become an archive, and he used the same frames to highlight the impact of the blast on the city’s architecture.
With nearly 640 historical buildings in Mar Mikhael and Gemmayze entirely damaged by the blast and 60 of them at risk of collapsing, these two areas were some of the most affected by the aftermath. These two areas are also rich in cultural and architectural heritage, with their buildings regrettably lacking protection laws (Arab News, 2021).
As part of working for a real estate company in Ashrafieh, what really caught Dia’s attention were the palatial villas that he went on to photograph through the balconies of the apartments of he was asked to visit.
In an interview with Vanity Fair, he mentioned how eager he had always been to go into the villas, but that he’d always been turned away by their respective owners. It was quite hapless that their gates were only opened after an event as unfortunate as the Beirut blast.
Building on the idea of using darkness as fuel for light, these photos of the destruction in these houses yielded money for renovations, as well as art exhibitions. This wasn’t easy for Dia, he says: “It’s sad. I can’t believe this is the chance I got to visit these houses, literally in their worst situation ever.”
Dia spotted a collapsed wall in one of the villas, behind which was a large portrait of Khalil Gibran peeking through the rubble. His photograph of this painting received a lot of positive feedback on online platforms, and was later sold at a charity auction, raising $5,500.
“Gibran Khalil Gibran” – From “The Morning After”
He revisited the villa again in January following the explosion, when he learned that the villa had already been restored at an earlier point in time post the civil war. The craftsman who had worked on it was a highly experienced 70-year-old who had ensured that its intricate details were well-preserved. This isn’t the case with most of the other damaged villas, due to a scarcity in restoration specialists in Lebanon. In short, the experience of a select few craftsmen was a nuanced attribute that no quick training could replace. To recover such structures whilst maintaining their authenticity is no walk in the park. For others, authenticity became less of a priority. Nayla Bustros, an owner of another 19th-century villa, falls into the category of those who preferred pragmatism and security over design. For this reason, she opted for plexiglass when conducting the renovations (Vanity Fair, 2021).
Shocked by the explosion, a woman who had witnessed 15 years of a hideous civil war, chose safety over heritage. In her perspective, having explosion-proof windows is a necessity. At the end of the day, art boldly remains a reflection of reality. A reality of a maladministered, war-torn and battered country that had to survive one hit after the other. This country’s assets may have been tarnished by chaos, rubble, and bloodshed, but just as a handicapped veteran, its loyalty to its own unique character makes its story all the more worth the listen. This veteran’s plaster cast is a part of his story, just as much as these palatial villa’s plexi-glass have become part of theirs.
Dia Mrad shot this picture of the interior of the Feghali House in Achrafieh after the blast