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HomePosts Tagged "thawrat-series"

thawrat-series Tag

Photograph by Lujain Jo How can images probe, think through and elaborate on an event at a time when any event is concurrently filmed or photographed and immediately shared online? In the case of the explosion that shook Beirut to its tormented core on August 4 and left it in pieces, how can we use images to go beyond what they show on the surface? How can we delve past their spectacularly traumatic outer layer? Could filmmakers in this scenario play the iconoclastic role of refraining from (re-)producing yet more images?  These were some of the questions left unanswered by Carol Mansour's

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Film Review
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ميليا عياش | ترجمة زينة الحلبي | رسم لينة غيبة   أنت ممثّل. ينبغي لجسدك وصوتك أن يكونا دائماً في جهوزية تامّة، حتى لو لم تكن في صدد التمثيل. فقد تفاجئك فرصةٌ تأتيك من حيث لا تدري. ورغم أنّ فرص التمثيل قليلة ومتباعدة، عليك أن تعمل جاهداً للحفاظ على صحتك الصوتية. لكن، قد تتساءل ما الذي سيحدث لو كنت، ذات ليلة، تشاهد عرضاً في مسرح نخبويّ متداعٍ، فتبدأ هواتف الجمهور بالإضاءة والرنين فيما أصوات الإنذارات والفرقعة تخضّ فورمايكا خشبة المسرح. الثورة انطلقت. لم تكن تتوقّع ثورة هنا، في أقلّ بلد في العالم استعداداً للثورة. ولكن، ها أنت تثور مع آخرين كنت تظنّهم خانعين

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Comics, Non-Fiction, Translations
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"Where Water Touches Land" by Heather M. O'Brien For all its scarred chaos, crammed slums, the death trap of Sabra and Shatila, Beirut was beautiful: by night, clusters of amber bracelets, yellow diamond necklaces; by day, a jumble of honeycombs, its bisque balconies, dun-gold apartments, climbing the hills in sun-warmed hives I wanted to sink my teeth into, my mouth a cradle for their bees. On the corniche, the black sea glittering beyond the balustrades, I thought the city’s architects, as nowhere else, had understood something about us ‒ our human proportions, desire for shifting symmetry, plant-like thirst for light. In Beirut, had given us

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Poetry
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Photograph by Rima Rantisi i. Cinnabar billowsshrouded in vaporous whiteBibendum’s sinister twin hurlshis wave of shock rockingbuildings in seismic swaystrange wind portendinghiroshimic concussion turninghouses to gaping vestigescrystalline rain of glass pavingstreets in savage mosaicthe blast roaring through bodies andwoman becomes motherwrestinginnocence from bedlam    ii. It is always thosewith nothing more to losewho time and again lose morea truthon tender skin hard-brandedimpossible to ignorethatnot a germ of mercy informsthe calculus of thosewhose jaded eye is fixedupon opportunitiesinterred beneath the slag    iii. Blear-eye starehunker down orcut and runhowlreject bloodand promise itsleep in fragmentsdissociatescreamgo silent andfuck itgrab a broomsweep the wreckageshard-by-shred-by-ash-by-scrapthen demandis this how the world is to

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Poetry
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Photograph by Nour Annan It was an ideal weekend in early September in New York City when I found myself, having recently returned from Beirut, eager to tag along to Robert Moses beach on Long Island with a friend and a group of people I had never met. The Long Island shore was littered with dispersed pockets of sunbathers, lying ten feet apart. It was a languid day, moving at its own pace. I barely plopped my mesh bag onto the sand before ripping off my clothes and rushing towards the ocean, diving headfirst into an incoming wave. Almost immediately, the

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Non-Fiction
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Global temperature change from 1850-2018 Source: //showyourstripes.infoData used from: Berkeley Earth, NOAA, UK Met Office, MeteoSwiss, DWD, SMHI, UoR, Meteo France & ZAMG On the 14th of October 2019, I walked to the furthest corner in the university cafeteria for my lunch break and as soon as I sat in my seat — overlooking the busy crossroad of 5th Avenue and 14th St — I broke into tears. Over the past 24 hours, I had been closely following whatever loose threads of footage and information I could access online about the fires (more than 120 within two days) that had been

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Non-Fiction
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On August 8, 2020, pellet shotguns were used on protestors at close distance and critical body zones. The Health Ministry, following the arrival of injured protesters to the hospital, attempted to put a stop to financial coverage of treatments that is usually granted to injuries caused by protest suppression. This was only reversed after the ministry faced pressure by the Lebanese Order of Physicians and hospital administrations. The following describes the inhumane oppression practiced by the internal security forces along with the armed infiltrators in civilian wear. The inhumanity and extent of injury the medical community witnessed is beyond words. This is

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Photo Essay
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Photograph by the author One of the biggest conundrums of the Beirut explosion is probably the burden of knowing how to live in its aftermath. What words are there to describe what has happened? What meaning is there to give? What do we do next? As we were scrambling to make sense of living an economic and financial collapse, as we were trying to figure out what it means to live through a pandemic, on August 4, all the webs of meaning we had spun suddenly melted into air.  Was it fireworks? Was it an Israeli air missile? Was it 2,750 tonnes

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Non-Fiction
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 A Conversation with Roy Dib on Blocking Roads, Chanting, and the Vicious Lebanese Political Cycle Roy Dib is an artist and filmmaker. But like everyone else who took to the streets on October 17, his “day job” took on a different description including specialized skills such as: blocking roads, organizing a group of activists, learning the ins and outs of pertinent revolution topics, and helping connect a network of revolutionaries in the squares. And like all things that began on October 17, ever-continuous spontaneity fed into the daily roil, including that of building the revolution-born Qantari group. Founded by Rawan Nassif,

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Interview
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