Autumn in full swing for Lebanese artists invited to France

Two years ago, the Lebanese director duo Lina Majdalanie and Rabih Mroué received an invitation from the Autumn Festival. An honor. At each of its editions, the Parisian cultural event, which takes place from the end of summer to the first days of winter, invites artists for a “Portrait”. A retrospective of their work as well as carte blanche to imagine new creations. Choosing the tandem was “an obvious fact”, believes Francesca Corona, artistic director of the festival: “Their shows are constantly innovating and their offerings are unique. »

Since its beginnings in the 2000s, the couple based in Berlin has continued to work on their country of origin, its recent history, the war, and the ever more complex intertwining of various conflicts. “Treating Lebanon as a subject brought us joy and pain. This is what we know how to talk about. We feel legitimate,” estimate Lina Majdalanie and Rabih Mroué, respectively 58 and 57 years old this October day. This raw material has always nourished their pieces, which take various forms, notably using sound or video. It can be classic fiction, but also more experimental proposals, such as “non-academic conferences”, mixing theoretical presentations and performances. In total, fourteen different shows, including two new ones, are scheduled in the various festival locations until December.

On September 23, everything changed. The Israeli armed forces launched their offensive in southern Lebanon and the theater was hit by the news. A collision which was also found in the work of two other guests of the Autumn Festival: the Jordanian living in Beirut Lawrence Abu Hamdan, designer of a sound creation on the crash of the Hebrew State’s planes in space Lebanese aerialist, and Ali Cherri, artist born in Beirut and living in France, who presents a more abstract performance, The Book of Mud.

“Terrified of being stuck here”

Evoking every evening on stage a country 4,000 kilometers away which, at the same time, is being bombed, is “violent, obviously violent”, explain Lina Majdalanie and Rabih Mroué. “Every evening brings its share of terrible news, they describe. We spend our days trying to follow hour by hour what is happening there. And, in the evening, the show begins. » When they are on stage or in the control room following the play, their phones are always cut off. “The performance is the only moment where we distance ourselves from what is happening, where time stops. » As soon as the final salute has been completed, they connect again to keep up to date.

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