The anguish of Lebanese artists invited to France for the Fall Festival

Two years ago, the Lebanese directing duo Lina Majdalanie and Rabih Mroué had the honor of receiving an invitation from the Paris Fall Festival. Every year, the Parisian cultural event, which runs from late summer to the first days of winter, invites artists for a “Portrait.” In other words, a retrospective of their work and carte blanche to imagine new creations. The tandem was “an obvious choice,” said Francesca Corona, the festival’s artistic director. “Their shows are always innovating and they always bring something unique.”

Since their beginnings in the 2000s, the Berlin-based couple have never stopped probing their homeland, its recent history, the war, and the increasingly complex interweaving of various conflicts. “Dealing with Lebanon as a subject has given us both joy and pain. It’s what we know how to talk about. We feel legitimate,” said Majdalanie and Mroué, respectively 58 and 57, in October. This source material has always fed their plays, which take various forms, including sound and video. They range from classic fiction to more experimental creations, including “non-academic lectures,” combining theoretical presentations and performances. In all, 14 different shows, including two new ones, are scheduled at the festival’s various venues until December.

Everything changed on September 23. The Israeli armed forces launched their offensive in southern Lebanon, and the theater was overtaken by events. A coincidence that also concerned the work of two other Fall Festival guests: Beirut-based Jordanian Lawrence Abu Hamdan, who created a sound piece on the roar of Israeli aircraft in Lebanese airspace, and Ali Cherri, a Beirut-born artist living in France, who presented a more abstract performance, Le Livre de la Boue (The Book of Mud).

‘Terrified by the thought of being stuck here’

To talk on stage every evening about a country 4,000 kilometers away that is being bombed at that very moment is “violent, obviously violent,” explained Majdalanie and Mroué. “Every evening brings its share of terrible news,” they added. “We spend our days trying to keep up with what’s going on over there hour by hour. Then, in the evening, the show begins.” When they’re on stage or in the control room monitoring the play, their phones are always switched off. “The performance is the only time when we distance ourselves from what’s going on and time stands still.” As soon as the final bow is taken, they log on again to learn the latest developments.

In a career that spans several decades, reality has caught up with them several times. “War is a bottomless pit. Nothing is new. Each event brings a new layer of complexity,” they stressed. In 2019, in collaboration with musician and graphic artist Mazen Kerbaj, they created Borborygmus, a show about their disillusionment with the state of the world and, in particular, the failure of the “Arab springs.” This disenchantment coincided with the start of popular protests in response to Lebanon’s economic catastrophe. “The disarray of the play coincided with the dismay of the citizens.”

You have 54.59% of this article left to read. The rest is for subscribers only.