“Beirut is a workshop for freedom, busy sticking its tongue out at the sand, and the repression on all sides of it,” wrote Mahmoud Darwich, a Palestinian writer, about Lebanon’s capital in his 1986 book Memory of Forgetfulness. His prose is testament to the city’s historic role in Levantine politics and its cultural milieu that fosters some of the world’s most talented artists, architects, musicians, and designers.
How can a city be a workshop for freedom? I asked myself this question while traversing We Design Beirut, a four-day immersive exhibition from May 23 to 26 founded by Mariana Wehbe of Mariana Wehbe Public Relations (MWPR) and industrial designer Samer Alameen. This year marked We Design Beirut’s first iteration, and it rose as a joyful celebration after several setbacks: It was originally supposed to happen in early March, but because of the Israel-Gaza war, it was postponed. The exhibition also comes four years after the August 2020 explosion in Beirut’s port that killed 218 people and decimated much of the city’s infrastructure.
Amid ongoing reconstruction efforts, Mariana Wehbe affirmed that the event was meant to inspire. “[We Design Beirut] reminded our city that we are alive,” Wehbe told me. “I believe it made everyone feel that they were part of the ‘we,’ even the spectators were part of this call to action for our city. Almost like magic dust, it was spread all over the city, and we needed it!”
We Design Beirut’s branding was by Bananamonkey and BABYLON – The Agency, cofounded by Joy Mardini and William Wehbe, developed the curatorial strategy. Thanks to the tireless efforts of the operational team, including Kristina Tayar and Rola Malmouk of MWPR, We Design Beirut’s fantastic programming about preservation, sustainability, and empowerment was spread across multiple sites. Together, the curators, organizers, and artists reintroduced the world to Lebanon through their own lens.
Activating the City
We Design Beirut’s host locations included PS Lab, an old industrial complex near Beirut’s port that’s been restored as a cultural venue after the 2020 explosion; Villa Audi, a neoclassical home turned mosaic museum completed during the late Ottoman period; and Abroyan Factory, a former textile plant from the 1940s that’s now a gallery and restaurant. Each venue was given a theme: Abroyan Factory focused on sustainability (“We Sustain”), Villa Audi on preservation (“We Preserve”), and PS Lab on community empowerment (“We Empower”).
Beyond these three main venues were three “city exhibitions” at Studio Naba Debs, Khalil Khoury’s Interdesign Building, and the flagship location of Iwan Maktabi. “Open studios” located inside select destinations, including Fabrica Design Platform and Pik’d Gallery, invited the public to meet some of Beirut’s best designers.
Day One
Festivities kicked off early on May 23 at PS Lab. A breeze swooshed in from the port, cooling the former factory complex, which features multiple structures centered around a shared courtyard. There, the public could see stunning ceramics, tiles, and glass works from Pik’d Gallery, The Silly Spoon, BlattChaya, and The Ready Hand and an exhibition by Beirut architect Karim Nader and Belgian photographer Julien Lanoo.
The Inaash Panel tapestry was also on view, produced under the guidance of Palestinian artist Samia Halaby by Palestinian refugees Najat Bachhir and Fatima Moussa. Miniature instruments made by Tanios Zghaib were on display not far from another exhibition, Metiers D’Art, which invited wood, copper, and rattan artisans to demonstrate their methods—it gave context for a discussion later that evening about preserving traditional Lebanese crafts, moderated by art writer Nadine Khalil.
Later that night, visitors had an unforgettable experience at Cinema Royal, a 1950s theater in Beirut’s Bourj Hammoud district—the historic Armenian quarter. Cinema Royal hosted a beautiful performance by the Lebanese singer-songwriter Mohamad al-Khansa who goes by the stage name “Khansa.”
Khansa is considered an icon of the LGBTQ+ Beirut underground for his shows, which often incorporate Arabic belly dancing and drag. His gender-defying oeuvre on view at Cinema Royal is meant to challenge traditional notions of masculinity and takes inspiration from the Egyptian singer Umm Kulthum. To my delight, Khansa’s performance activated the stunning movie theater that was recently restored by Lebanese filmmaker Karl Hadife. After, the crowd poured out into the streets of Bourj Hammoud and stayed until early morning, cigarettes and arak in hand.
Day Two
Early the next morning, we reconvened in Beirut’s Gemmayze neighborhood, where Studio Naba Debs debuted 25 versions of its newest furniture series, SWIRLMANIA. This was followed by a trip to Khalil Khoury’s Interdesign Building, a stunning Brutalist structure that he designed in 1973 (but didn’t finish until 1997 because of the Lebanese Civil War). It hosted an archival retrospective about the building’s designer.
Guests enjoyed a tour of the Khoury show All Things Must(n’t) Pass by contemporary Lebanese architect Bernard Khoury, son of Khalil, which was chock-full of convivial stories about the building and its architect.
Iwan Maktabi was next on our list, a third-generation textile business founded in 1995 and now run by Mona, Mohamed, and Chirine Maktabi. The 3-story flagship store platformed an exhibition called Lab Story—A Retrospective, which summarized research at Iwan Maktabi from the past five years. This was followed by a trip farther east to the 150,000-square-foot Abroyan Factory. There, Lebanese architects Nabil Farhat and Rabih Koussa worked with Plastc Lab to deliver a red volcanic installation made of recycled industrial waste called Magma Plastique.
For some time now, Farhat, Koussa, and Plastc Lab have created innovative structures built of recycled materials. They’ve since managed to convert plastic waste into beautiful polychromatic installations. “I’m a biochemist by training, and our team is a melting pot of scientists, civil engineers, urban planners, and designers,” said cofounder Rami Sbeih. “We buy industrial waste in Lebanon and explore its potentials.”
These works by emerging professionals and startups were close to stunning student projects on display in We Search. One student masterfully repurposed plastic bags into a charming polychromatic tapestry, while others built dazzling architectural models. Under the umbrella of sustainability, Abroyan Factory later hosted a scintillating panel discussion about sustainable development with New York–based architect Ahmad AbouZanat and others, moderated by Maya Karkour of EcoConsulting.
Day Three
Villa Audi, a neoclassical structure on Charles Malek Avenue in East Beirut, is where visitors arrived the next morning. On view throughout the Palladian manor was Past Echoes: A Journey Through Middle Eastern Product Design. Outside, designers MaryLynn and Carlo Massoud installed a series of convivial “shiitake lamps.” In the loggia, a furniture installation by architect Maria Yared, Solace, offered visitors respite from the Mediterranean sun; the shaded lime-green ensemble evoked Memphis School sensibilities.
Milia Maroun’s piece Objeu-Closer Together took center stage in Audi’s lobby next to gorgeous wooden stools by Nareg Krikorian. This was a debut of sorts—Maroun’s contribution was originally supposed to be shown in London in 2021, but because of political pressures, the Palestinian artist was forced to display her work anonymously. Here, Maroun was given the platform to debut her stunning artwork made of wood and mirrors with her name attached to it.
“We wanted to cover many aspects of the Lebanese design scene—many materials, sizes, crafts, aesthetics,” said Joy Mardini. “There are also age differences: We have very established designers here as well as quite emerging designers that, in some cases, are exhibiting for the first time in their life.”
Day Four
On May 26, after two morning lectures dedicated to the contributions of Brazilian architect Oscar Niemeyer to Lebanon—the half-built Rachid Karami International Fair and Niemeyer Guest House, both in Tripoli—we were given a chance to meander through open studios and explore through the city.
Fabrica Design Platform, a home for ceramic artists founded by Nour Zoghby Fares, invited me and several other guests to make our own art out of clay. At Fabrica, the youngest student is 3 years old, and the oldest is 85. Zoghby Fares told me that “on the ground floor of our building is Nour Artisan, a business my mom founded over 30 years ago. My mom has since worked with over 500 Lebanese families. It’s about empowering artisans to achieve economic independence.”
After Fabrica, I set off on my own to find a building that played an important role in my family’s history: Maghen Abraham Synagogue in Beirut’s Wadi Abu Jamil district, not far from the city’s Mohammad Al-Amin Mosque and Maronite Cathedral of Saint George. Maghen Abraham Synagogue was completed in 1925 and was where my Jewish great-grandfather worshipped when he lived in Beirut during the “Golden Sixties,” when icons like Omar Sharif walked Beirut’s streets and Muslims, Christians, and Jews lived together in relative propinquity amid smoke-filled bars packed with jazz, avant-garde film, risqué outfits, and leftist politics.
Sure, accounts of Beirut’s golden years like this invite “innumerable clichés,” to quote Sam Bardaouil and Till Fellrath in Beirut and the Golden Sixties: A Manifesto of Fragility. “Images from the 1960s of raucous cabarets, casino soirées, cinemas, beach resorts, and never-ending parties continue to fuel local and international fantasies about the Lebanese capital.” This may be true, but is that so bad? A little bit of nostalgia for this forlorn, amazing past that We Design Beirut reignited with its art, architecture, design, and music may be the best medicine for our own times. The design festival was a reminder to never lose hope for Beirut’s future despite its seemingly never-ending economic and political crises and its perpetual potential as a “workshop for freedom.”
