???? ????? - Where do we go from here?

Shards.

Remnants.

Debris.

Fragments.

Residue.

Ruins.

Archaic, contemporary, midcentury, commercial, residential, public, private; nothing was spared. The explosion that damaged around 40,000 + buildings in the heart of Beirut’s most culturally vibrant and eclectic districts; how is the city’s identity affected? Rebuild from scratch? Leave remembrance and traces of the phenomena that floored a whole city to fragments? Where do we go from here? Existential questions that have yet to be answered.

Everyone that has visited Beirut pre-blast, unanimously agrees that this city is one of the most culturally rich hubs of the modern and archaic Middle East. Writers, designers, painters, artists, sculptors, and many more, flocked to Mar Mkhayil, Gemmayze, Sursock, Zoqaq al-Blat, and the central districts of Beirut in quest of making a name within their particular industries. This has been the case for many years.

Beirut has been destroyed and rebuilt seven times across its historical timeline. This directly affected the diverse medley of its urban fabric and sociological characteristics. Strolling through the city’s streets a visual chronology of the region’s history unfolds. French mandate influences, 15 years of warfare, archeological sites, crusader fortresses, Ottoman and colonial houses, modern contemporary structures, and traces of Lebanese vernacular architecture are all present under one urban umbrella. It only took seconds to traumatically alter the northern sector of this metropolitan city. Beirut, an architectural palimpsest of all the events that took place on its grounds, has now been scarred with another fatal event that will forever change the face of the city. Moving forward, how are architects supposed to react to this? In what direction should the reconstruction of the city flow? Where do we start? How will this “new” reality manifest in form?

Its important to note that throughout the city, a clear form of preempted architectural character is defined strictly based on jaded past glories. There is a clear binary form of structural interpretation when discussing Beirut’s so called architectural style. There is a dominant tendency to relate Beirut’s architectural heritage to the Ottoman period. One immediately points to Gemmayze as a reference. Another common interpretation of the city’s “traditional” face is the post war reconstruction of Beirut’s central district, Solidere. However, is this really all that there is to Beirut? Or is this the work of corrupt governments that want spectators to see through their passive lenses of distorted reality? What about the present? Who is Beirut, who is She? In my opinion, colonial houses and 90s postwar reconstruction do not suffice as a general characterization of the city.

Architects of the likes of Bernard Khoury practice architecture as of form of present manifestation. Where architecture is not only a tool for remembrance, but is also a medium for expressing the now. Architecture is a political statement. We tend to assume that war in Lebanon is over. In my opinion it is an ongoing affair that continues to perpetuate within the lives of Beirutis and the Lebanese population as a whole. This should be translated in the city’s urban fabric.

Beirut is not a beautiful recollection of memories from our grandparent’s past, it is not the reminiscent past glories that we live on, it is no longer the city we are brainwashed to believe it is. It is an everyday struggle; and I think this daily battle that takes place in the lives of its inhabitants should be translated into its architecture. To reconstruct Beirut should not mean to take it back to its state before the blast. I think architects should not erase these scars, that in itself would be a new form of making an architectural statement. Solidere as we knew it pre-blast is the farthest depiction of what the development has actually been through throughout its lifeline. Do we want to rebuild and just simply forget? Sugar coating and gold platting will never serve the quest of finding a present identity. Which is what the city and inhabitants currently lack.

With the current economic situation in the country, importing architectural materials is close to impossible due to the plunging depreciation of the Lebanese currency. I think this is a window that local craftsmen should optimize. This is another form of revival. The right form in my opinion. Only the persons that experienced this occurrence first hand are the ones able to translate its affects. Design and artisanal work should be the outlet for this translation. This does refer to past artisanal trends; its actually the complete opposite. There is a need to define a current relatable identity. This definition can only happen through actualization and manifestation methods; on the level of the city, architecture is the direct method. Reflecting on reality is what the city needs. Rebuilding should not be a backward trajectory in to the past, it should not take the form of an immediate quick fix; it should be a direct reason to take a step back and examine new possibilities.

One destructive phantasm after the other, Beirut has always been a city of hope and resilience. This is the exact notion of cheesy romanticism that we should not fall back on.