The Latest at Goethe

They protested the war in 2006 with political graffiti. Six years later, and co-funded by the Goethe-Institut, the artists now produced White Wall – a street art exhibition at the Beirut Art Center and on the streets of the Lebanese capital city. By David Weyand

Israeli fighter planes were circling above and dropping their bombs, while below Siska and his Red Eye Kamikaze crew wandered through the empty streets of Beirut and sprayed slogans on the walls: “Beirut ma betmout” – “Beirut will never die” or “Beirut in hakat” – “If Beirut could speak.” That was in July 2006 when Israel waged war on Lebanon and the Hezbollah for one month. “We didn’t just want to spray our names, we wanted to convey political messages,” remembers Siska, a video artist and former member of the hip-hop band Kita3 Beirut.

Their message was understood. From then on, political graffiti showed up everywhere in the capital city of Lebanon. “They copied our idea, but their work was more colourful and used other techniques,” says Siska. At first, he was ashamed sometimes, because the results seemed ugly to him and he felt responsible as the initiator. But, then he realized that they had inspired a new generation of graffiti artists who received a great deal of public attention. They mixed Arabic and Western styles, attempted to overcome the divide in Lebanese society and were provoking in the cityscape – humorously and critically.

Photo gallery: Feel like squatters!

“I wanted to push this trend forwards and unite Lebanese and international artists to open up new visions in the local scene,” says Siska, who today lives with his German wife and their child in Berlin. Three years ago, he got the opportunity. The Beirut Art Center asked him whether he would curate a graffiti exhibition. Together with a friend, Charles Vallaud AKA Prime from France, with whom he had sprayed the anti-war slogans in 2006, and the Berlin writer and graffiti artist Don Karl AKA Stone, since then Siska worked on the conception and realization. His wife, the artist Franziska Pierwoss, completed the team as the exhibition manager.

The results of their work entitled White Wall. Graffiti and Street Art could be seen in Beirut over the past two months. The Beirut Art Center is hidden between major construction sites and throughways south of the district of Achrafieh. Opened in 2009, it offers exhibition space to local and international contemporary artists and cultural professionals. “Originally, we only wanted to act in the public space, but if you really want a budget and attention, you have to cooperate with galleries,” says Siska. For him, graffiti, street art and established exhibition places are not contradictory. He is convinced that without this forum, many people would not be reached. “Hardly anyone walks in Beirut; everyone drives and rushes past the pictures.” Older people in particular need such places in order to discover this art form at all.

Scavenger hunt in Beirut

Siska and his teammates saw it as an opportunity and as a field for experimentation. The participating artists were asked to use the premises of the Beirut Art Center as they found them. No canvases, no additional dividers – they were provided only with white walls and the materials. “They were meant to take over this art space with their own specific aesthetic viewpoint like squatters who enter an unknown building and paint something on the walls,” says Siska. For him, it was also a way to counter the settled gallery atmosphere.

After three years of preparation, 14 international artists finally arrived in mid-August, two weeks before the beginning of the exhibition. Among them were Ammar Abo Bakr from Egypt, Inti from Chile, Tanc and Zepha from France and Mark Jenkins from the United States. The Berlin Graffiti Museum was also involved. With support from Lebanese colleagues, they produced their own works in the Beirut Art Center. The art centre was adorned by three-metre-high graffiti as well as video installations, sculptures and a large wooden structure. Siska calls it “grafficature” – a mixture of graffiti and architecture. This was exactly what he, as one of the curators, was aiming for; he wanted to demonstrate the variety of forms of expression and design possibilities that graffiti and street art offer. Designing the interior was obligatory for the artists, then they began the freestyle work, and the graffiti artists were finally able to do what they love most: leave their marks on the walls of Beirut. These works were also a part of the exhibition. Using a city map showing the exact locations of the paintings, visitors to the art gallery could then head off to search for them on foot. Considering the lack of street signs and the many, many tiny alleyways, it was a true scavenger hunt. But, it was also an opportunity to discover Beirut’s inner city districts.

While new exhibitions will follow in the Beirut Art Center, the graffiti works will remain part of the streets. A house-high mural by the Chilean artist Inti in the district of Hamra, a sculpture by the American artist Mark Jenkins under a bench downtown and the colourfully painted steps in the district of Mar Mikhael: perhaps they will inspire young Lebanese people as the works by Siska and his Red Eye Kamikaze crew once did.