DUBAI: Whether he’s in France or Brazil, Lebanese photographer Dia Mrad is repeatedly asked the burning question, “What’s going on in Beirut?”
Over the past four years, Lebanon has been making international headlines for all the wrong reasons: the country’s 2019 uprising, the deadly Beirut Port explosion, government negligence, and skyrocketing inflation as part of a prolonged economic crisis — one the of world’s worst since the 1850s, according to the World Bank.
‘Organized Chaos.’ (Supplied)
“With this exhibition, I set out to answer that question,” Mrad tells Arab News in Dubai, where his first solo exhibition in the UAE is on show at Zawyeh Gallery until Feb. 22. “My work is all about the built environment — anything to do with urban transformation. Beirut is always changing and developing. Sometimes stuff is falling apart or is blown up. You also have a lot of new construction and renovation. It was very apparent to me there’s something happening in the city — on a material level, there’s a change.”
The streets of Beirut are Mrad’s playground. He rides his Vespa through its neighborhoods –each distinguished with its own character, palette, and heritage, which he documents with his Fujifilm camera. He has become increasingly well-known as a result of his powerful images of the Beirut Port blast that were widely shared on social media.
Mrad’s new show is called “Utilities” and it focuses on three key sectors in Lebanon, all of which are facing their worst crises since the country’s civil war: water, electricity, and banking. Mrad has poignantly captured these aspects of daily life through an “ethnographic lens,” as he puts it, not necessarily focusing on people, but rather how they live through certain objects and activities.
‘Cistern Benz.’ (Supplied)
Some of Mrad’s best shots were taken from above by a drone camera about the size of a pigeon – hovering over schools, hospitals, residential buildings, and ancient palaces. Recently, such facilities have installed (at their own expense) costly solar panels; a sustainable response to the country’s chronic power outages.
Elsewhere, there’s a detailed photograph called “Organized Chaos,” where we’re confronted with the insides of an electrical box, full of color-coded wires and buttons. “I felt it was very symbolic of Beirut,” Mrad explains. “It’s like Beirut in an electricity box. It’s chaotic and messy, but there’s some kind of an order to things.”
As for banking, Mrad went to ATM machines in the city on Sundays. For security reasons, there’s been a change to bank’s facades, using bland, grey metal instead of glass. Over the past few years, people have lost access to their savings. The situation has become so desperate that some have barged into banks with fake guns attempting to claim their money bank.
‘Solar Tablet.’ (Supplied)
As Mrad shows, some machines work, while many don’t. Graffiti abounds — large dollar signs or “Enough is enough” in Arabic. ATMs have been encased in metal boxes, out of fear that users might dismantle them. A small sticker of a Lebanese flag on one machine is accompanied by the phrase “Kellon Yane Kellon” (All means All), a slogan of the 2019 uprising, which aimed to disempower Lebanon’s political elite.
“There’s a satirical aspect to it. It’s a bit absurd,” says Mrad. “I think it’s an interesting way of reaching people, because you can’t always show them something that’s very real and harsh. I mean, they’d understand it, but it would not stick in their mind. But this approach… there’s a wittiness to it.”
Mrad printed the images life-size on archival paper, so it feels like you’re standing right in front of the ATMs. “I had some people actually trying to put in a credit card,” Mrad says with a chuckle as he walks through his exhibition, which consists of around 30 photographs.
The show’s “Water” section includes shots of cars (one has been patched up several times with doors of different colors) carrying large water tanks. “(That car) has what I assume are bullet holes. Maybe it’s a witness to the civil war. But, it’s still going. It’s still doing its job,” Mrad says, again drawing parallels with Beirut itself.
So, to return to that opening question: What is going on in Beirut?
“I don’t know,” Mrad says. “I mean, you see a bit of hope, people overcoming difficulties, finding solutions, and doing whatever they can not to leave the city. I think it’s very commendable how people are managing on an individual level. With the banks, though, it’s a bit less hopeful.” He pauses. “There’s the good and the bad. That’s Beirut.”