Lebanese calligraphy artist creates murals of beloved local figures

 

Syrian flower seller Fares Al Khodor was a familiar sight on the streets of Beirut.

With his wide smile, slicked-back hair and buckets of roses, the cheerful little boy roamed the pavements and bars in the Hamra area, sacrificing his education to help support his family after they fled Hassakeh in 2011.

In July, he returned to Syria for a visit and was killed in an air strike, at the age of 12.

Today, his face smiles out at passers-by from the side of a four-storey building in Dortmund, Germany, where he has been immortalised in a mural by Lebanese street artist Yazan Halwani. The latest in a series of portraits by the 22-year-old artist, the painting aims – like all of his murals – to foster a sense of community.

In Germany, it encourages people to reassess their views of refugees. In Beirut, his work has an even more ambitious aim – to unite a population that has been fractured along sectarian and political lines for decades.

“What I try to do is propose things that might change the landscape of the city into something more positive, more cultural,” Halwani says, “because I think everything in Beirut is in the service of politics, which is sad.”

The artist picks beloved local figures and integrates them into the urban fabric of the city. They include singers Sabah and Fairouz, poets Mahmoud Darwish and Khalil Gibran, and the city’s tragic heroes such as Al Khodor and Ali Abdallah, a well-known and respected homeless man who died of exposure one cold winter night

The idea of creating such a series of portraits was sparked by a practice that dates back to Lebanon’s civil war, when political parties and sectarian militia would cover walls with posters and stencilled logos as a way of marking their territory.

With every mural that he creates, Halwani integrates elements of calligraphy more fully into his portraits.

His recently completed painting of Sabah, which adorns the side of an eight-storey building in Hamra, uses swooping letters to create the texture of her hair and dangling earrings. Those who look closely, however, will notice that the shapes Halwani paints never resolve themselves into legible words.

The shape of the letters can evoke meaning without forming words, he explains, making his work universally accessible.

In recent years, Halwani has asked for permission before beginning a painting. The police rarely obstruct him, he says – once, two officers in Beirut even set aside their guns to take up brushes and help him.

His reasons for seeking approval for his work stem from a belief that street art should be created with the community in mind, rather than to promote the artist’s own agenda.