Studio Beirut

Wa ba3d intizarin tawil,
wa nazaran lil ahwel al jawwiyyé wel eklimiyyé wel mahalliyé,
elaykom "do you want me?"
El Remix al mountazar wou yalli ma laha'na el competition fiyyo, Bassita.
(lalli ma cherako, haydé taba3 el bandalé family wou 3melna bi studio beirut recording session achbah bi tohdir al arwe7)
Anyway fi el ghenniyyé wou fi el lyrics.

Nchallah t7ebboua (bi izn ellahi t3ala!!)
wou ma nensa enno chou ma 3melna ma fina netkhatta el masterpiece yalli hiyyé do you love me.

Choukr ktir kbir la kill yalli sehamo bi 3aml el aswat wel dajjé!!

intaziro al video clip

Saturday December 22, 8 pm, Studio Beirut (Rue Gouraud, Gemmayze, red building, first floor)

Back in the eighties, right when the US were heading for a permanent void, REM came up with its classic song. Across the ocean, in Margaret Thatcher's darkest days, the Specials had just captured the whine of the times: Ghosttown became the anthem of a sinking generation.
There's something about the moment when the world as we know it grinds to a standstill. The future looks grim. Violence seems to be the only prospect. Yesterday was a mess, people said in Belgrade during the nineties. Today is even worse. Good that we have no tomorrow!
But just when all looks lost, there is this song, a book or a movie. It is bleak and desperate but it just cannot lie down and die. By saying goodbye to the world as we know it, it is already inventing a new one. It has to. There is no choice.

Chris Keulemans is a writer and journalist based in Amsterdam. He will be talking about today by showing clips from REM, the Specials, Rainer Werner Fassbinder, Michael Haneke, Salman Rushdie, Sinead O'Connor and Lionel Richie.

Followed by the movie 'Before the Rain', Milcho Manchevski (Macedonia, 1994)

Lebanon is one of those places in the world where everyday reality is stipulated by history colliding with geography. The whole country is a reservoir of minorities (religious and ethnic) coexisting in one of today’s most bitter spaces of conflict i.e. the Middle East. Years of war followed by years of occupation have led to a situation where the country functions in a very peculiar way: The citizen-state relationship is loose to a point where the economy, the juridical status, the urban status, the ecological status, the social status and the political discourse are all in shambles causing a series of malfunctions in various activities and aspects of life. Public space in Lebanon is to a great extent at the heart of this crisis. Beirut, a city with a rich history of dialogue, had mythical public spaces such as Martyr’s square (a transportation hub and a major trading and meeting place) in the old central district and a fast growing pedestrian culture in newly developed districts like Hamra in the early seventies. The 1975 war annihilated most of these spaces and turned most public squares and sidewalk into sniper corridors and brutally violent spaces. The war aftermath continued to shut off and prevent the creation and the use of public spaces. These spaces were deemed uncontrollable because they could serve as platforms for reconciliation and national dialogue that could have possibly lead to the rejection of foreign control. People’s reacted by looking elsewhere for a minimum of breathing space. This lead to the spontaneous development of underdesigned public spaces like the sea-side corniche in Ain El Mreisseh and the Joseph Khoury’s Marina in Dbayeh. Those spaces were and still are compensating for the lack of organized and centralized public space although they suffer a severe handicap in their lack of proximity and of centrality. Given that the need for public space is not only recreational, the Ain El Mreisseh corniche and the Marina suffer from remote geographical situations which makes them mostly accessible by cars and inhibits them becoming centralized platforms for the now critical dialogue after the newly emerged situation that followed the 2005 spring uprising. The 2005 mass demonstrations temporarily reclaimed the role of central public space and lead to a political earthquake locally. This new dynamic came to an abrupt end as soon as there was no longer a common physical platform for interaction. This was a brief interlude in thirty years of downward spiral but the movement itself is no longer sustainable without the necessary tools, of which a highly important one is public space. Is public space is a matter of urban locations where people can park their cars, stroll along the seaside and get the occasional cup of coffee or is it a space where “significant events” like economical, social and political discussions may occur? Space itself being a problem along Lebanon’s costal strip (one of the world’s most densely populated areas), we set the old railway tracks and stations along the coastline as possible focal points for our coring and exploration in hopes it might lead to new conclusions about local public spaces. This workshop’s aim is both analyzing the status of public space in Lebanon, as it exists, and outlining and projecting future needs by creating the potential to intervene where necessary.