15 April 2010

Interview


Matthew Mosley

Daily Star staff


BEIRUT: The tangled alleyways, the buildings, the characters, and the distinctive cuisine of Bourj Hammoud exert a fascination for a surprising cross-section of parties.

For academics and students, the quarter forms a distinctive world within Lebanon’s capital Beirut that is ripe for study, both historically and sociologically.

The area has a special significance for Lebanese Armenians, since it was the first place that Armenians settled in Lebanon after arriving from Syria and Turkey.

Young hipsters love Bourj Hammoud for its bargain-hunting potential – there are treasures to be unearthed in its tightly-packed shops.

“It’s very authentic,” says photographer Ariane Delacampagne. “Unlike a lot of Beirut, it hasn’t changed too much over the years. Bourj Hammoud has retained its cachet – in some ways this is a good thing, but it has downsides too.”

The distinctive character of Bourj Hammoud, however, is increasingly under threat. Its proximity to both central Beirut and the ocean means that real-estate developers are increasingly eyeing the area as a potential source of cash.

The area has already been eaten into: In recent years a new highway bridge has bisected the area, ferrying traffic eastward from Achrafieh.

Over the past five years, Delacampagne has been taking photographs in what might prove to be a vanishing world.

“I think it’s important to have a record of this time,” says Delacampagne. “This is a part of our history.”

Over the time, her project’s focus has narrowed to become a series of portraits of the inhabitants. A selection of her images was revealed Wednesday at the Centre Culturel Francais under the title “The Armenians of Bourj Hammoud.”

In luminous black and white, Delacampagne’s photographs offer a warts-and-all portrayal of her subjects, at the same time placing them on an aesthetic pedestal with elegant composition and the kind of luxuriant chiaroscuro that monochrome photography does so well.

There is a disarming frankness to Delacampagne’s photos that makes them particularly compelling. Her subjects stare out with an utter lack of self-consciousness, as though in mid-conversation with the spectator.

“I take time to build up a rapport with the person,” says Delacampagne. “It either happens or it doesn’t, but if there’s no rapport then the shot won’t be successful.”

Some of Delacampagne’s subjects are captured at work. A shoe-seller grins genially from behind teetering mountains of boxes, a television at his side. A carpet-weaver glances up mid-stitch, glaring at the lens from under-hooded eyes. A lady proudly displays the priestly vestments she has sewn.

Others are photographed in the home. Many of the subjects in the selection are elderly women, propped up in bed by a mound of pillows or perched on a chair with stick in hand.

Some of these characters are spectacularly aged. The skin hangs from the bone in swags and deep creases mark the faces. Speaking of a wealth of life experience, one could stare at these compelling characters for hours.

This focus on the elderly wasn’t part of the original project.

“I chose these particular images for aesthetic reasons,” says Delacampagne. “These were the ones that pleased me most. But I’m conscious of a lack of younger subjects here and next time I want to concentrate on the youth.”

Delacampagne’s project is ongoing. Ultimately, she plans to publish a book of the images, but there are still many more facets of Bourj Hammoud that she wants to capture. This is a project that thrives on chance and spontaneity.

“I don’t plan anything,” says Delacampagne. “Every time I go to Bourj Hammoud there’s something new. The work is in a constant state of flux.”

Delacampagne is of Armenian heritage. She was born in Lebanon and still has family here, but now divides her time between Paris and New York.

In some respects, Delacampagne’s photographs of Bourj Hammoud seem to be linked to an exploration of her own identity as an Armenian.

“[Turkey’s] non-recognition of the Armenian genocide is something that affects all of us,” she says. “How do you live with that? Should you just forget about it and carry on?

“My friends sometimes ask me whether this legacy is a stultifying thing, whether it prevents me from going forward. But I don’t think like this. I don’t think that this issue should prevent participation.”

Delacampagne’s photographs offer a glimpse of diverse lives, united only by a geographical area and their shared Armenian heritage. They are at once a preservation of a particular moment of Armenian history and an exploration of the many ways of being an Armenian.

But her compelling photographs possess a wider aesthetic appeal. The general fascination of Bourj Hammoud is likely to continue undimmed.


“The Armenians of Bourj Hammoud“ continues until April 29. For more details, call +961 1 420 200.

Copyright The Daily Star 2010.