Culture

Nabil Nahas, a leading figure in Lebanese-American contemporary art, is currently at the center of the international art scene. He has been officially selected to represent Lebanon at the upcoming Venice Biennale, which will take place from May 9 to November 22, 2026. Nabil Nahas occupies a singular position within the contemporary art landscape. He is one of the few artists to have achieved a distinctive synthesis between radical American abstraction and an Eastern sensibility deeply rooted in nature and spirituality. The exhibition, titled Don’t Get Me Wrong , is curated by Nada Ghandour, curator and commissioner, in collaboration with the Lebanese Visual Art Association (LVAA). It will take place at the Arsenale (Sala d’Armi), one of the most prestigious venues of the Venice Biennale. With this exhibition, Nabil Nahas offers a monumental experience that redefines the relationship between the viewer and the painting. The Artist’s Journey Nabil Nahas was born in Beirut in 1949. He spent his first ten years in Cairo, where he absorbed the majesty of Egyptian landscapes and the rigor of Islamic art. In 1973, he earned his MFA (Master of Fine Arts) from Yale University in the United States, where he encountered major figures of the art world and immersed himself in Abstract Expressionism. He then settled in New York and quickly became known as a “master of color and texture.” After the civil war, his return to Lebanon marked a turning point in his practice. He began painting cedars, olive trees, and pines – not as simple landscapes, but as symbols of resilience. Nabil Nahas’ Style His style is marked by a dual influence: American Abstract Expressionism and a Mediterranean heritage. What distinguishes Nahas from his contemporaries is his extreme materiality. Nabil Nahas’s work draws on the complex geometries of the natural world (starfish, cedars, marine motifs) as well as Islamic art. He often uses pumice powder or volcanic rock mixed with paint to create rough, almost organic textures, transforming the canvas into a sculptural object resembling a lunar surface or a coral reef. Untitled, acrylic and pumice on canvas. (Dalloul Art Foundation) Starfish: One of his most well-known innovations consists in fixing real starfish (or casts) onto the canvas, then covering them with successive layers of paint, creating an organic relief that challenges the traditional flatness of painting. The concept of fractals: Inspired by mathematician Benoît Mandelbrot, Nahas explores the concept of fractals, according to which the apparent chaos of nature contains its own geometric order. Like nature itself, his canvases appear capable of multiplying infinitely, without center or boundary. International Recognition Nabil Nahas is not only a “Lebanese painter,” but an established figure on the global art scene. His works are held in major international museums, including the Metropolitan Museum of Art (New York), the Tate Modern (London), the British Museum, and the Guggenheim Abu Dhabi. In 2013, he received the National Order of the Cedar, a distinction rarely granted to visual artists in Lebanon, highlighting his role as a cultural ambassador. His works are also highly sought after on the auction market (Sotheby’s, Christie’s), achieving record prices exceeding 240,000 dollars for his most monumental pieces. The Exhibition “Don’t Get Me Wrong” The exhibition is conceived as a total immersive work. It was specifically designed for the Arsenale space at the Venice Biennale. Its scale is monumental. It consists of 26 acrylic-on-canvas panels, extending over an impressive length of 45 linear meters and reaching a height of 3 meters. The canvases are raised two meters above the ground, compelling visitors to look upward, recalling the way Renaissance church frescoes are traditionally contemplated. In this exhibition, Nahas adopts the concept of fractals, inviting a meditative wandering in which forms appear to multiply infinitely. Nada Ghandour, who is presenting her third curatorial direction of the Lebanese Pavilion, describes Nahas’ work as a reflection of Lebanese identity, which she characterizes as a “polyphonic choir” and compares to a weaving of multiple threads (history, spirituality, nature) through which he seeks to express Lebanon through its cultural complexity. For Ghandour, Nahas’ practice is a combination of art, culture, and spirituality, both symbolic and philosophical. In a world where art is often divided between conceptual (intellectual) art and decorative art, Nahas proposes a third path: an abstraction with a soul. He demonstrates that it is possible to belong to the “New York School” while remaining deeply connected to Mediterranean world. At the 2026 Venice Biennale, his presence symbolizes the strength and creativity of a Lebanon that, despite ongoing crises, continues to address the world through a complex sense of beauty and a universal poetic vision.

Moustafa Farroukh ranks among the leading pioneers of modern Lebanese painting and played a major role in shaping the country’s artistic landscape. He was born in 1901 in the modest Basta neighborhood of Beirut, into a Sunni family, and died in 1957. From an early age, he was encouraged and trained in the studio of the modernist painter Habib Srour. In 1927, he left Beirut for Rome, where he studied at the Regia Accademia di Belle Arti (San Luca), graduating the same year. He later continued his training in Paris, notably under Paul Émile Chabas, then president of the Société des artistes français. He began exhibiting in major artistic events, including the Paris Salons, the Rome Biennale, and later in Venice, New York, and Beirut. Back Home Farroukh returned to Beirut in 1932, where he opened a permanent studio-gallery that soon became a gathering place for the city’s artistic life. He taught art at several prestigious institutions, including AUB, ALBA, and the École normale de Beyrouth. He also delivered lectures in various intellectual circles, notably at the Lebanese Cénacle (Al-Nadwa), thereby contributing to the institutional consolidation of Lebanon’s emerging artistic field. Highly active on the international exhibition circuit, his name was included in the Bénézit Dictionary of Artists in 1950, widely regarded as the world’s most authoritative reference work on artists. Farroukh was both a committed artist and an intellectual, publishing numerous articles on art in the press and contributing to the broader public’s artistic education. He also authored five books on the philosophy of art and Lebanese identity, including an autobiography. His writings played a key role in shaping the theoretical foundations of art in Lebanon’s emerging society. His Work and Style Farroukh was a prolific painter who left behind more than 2,000 paintings, widely collected both in Lebanon and abroad. His style is essentially post‑Impressionist, figurative, and realist, shaped by his European academic training yet deeply rooted in Lebanese themes. His favorite themes draw from everyday life: rural and urban landscapes, villages, fields, ports, the Beirut corniche, notables, working women and peasants. He also painted a number of nudes – an audacious choice in the Levantine context of the time. His palette is luminous and warm. He paid particular attention to chiaroscuro , inherited from his Italian training, which he harmoniously combined with Mediterranean light. In the 1930s, following a formative stay in Spain, he began to draw on Arab‑Andalusian heritage in his work, incorporating the memory of Arab Andalusia into a modern pictorial language. An Iconic Work: “The Corniche of Ras Beirut” His views of Beirut’s seafront and the corniche are often cited as iconic representations of a Lebanon in transition, where the port, the sea, and the city form a defining triptych. “The Corniche of Ras Beirut,” painted in 1941 under the French Mandate, reflects Farroukh’s desire to lay the foundations of a distinctly Lebanese national painting, while drawing on his European influences. The urban landscape, opening onto the sea, symbolizes a dialogue between the modern city and the Mediterranean horizon, with a strong emphasis on light and atmosphere. Ras Beirut emerges as a threshold between East and West, modernity and tradition. The work captures an emerging Lebanese identity and marks a key moment in the country’s pictorial modernity. It offers a poetic vision of Lebanon, where sea, mountain, and traditional architecture coexist in harmony. The composition, structured in three planes, creates depth to the painting, guides the viewer’s eye from the pathway to the horizon line. The warm earth tones contrast with the cool shades of blue of the sea and sky, creating an atmosphere that is both luminous and melancholic. The presence of two adults at the center humanizes the scene and introduces a narrative dimension characteristic of Farroukh’s work. Palm trees and low houses, rendered with a supple brush, anchor the painting in an idealized Mediterranean Orient, imbued with nostalgia and softness. Iconic Painters of a Nation on the Rise In conclusion, Lebanon’s four pioneering painters – Khalil Saleeby, Omar Onsi, César Gemayel, Moustafa Farroukh – though by no means the only ones, stand out as emblematic figures of a nation on the rise. Trained abroad, they drew inspiration from the European schools of painting of their time, selectively adopting the best techniques while adapting them to Mediterranean and Eastern light and sensibilities. In doing so, they reinforced Lebanon’s emerging national identity and created a distinctly Lebanese art style of painting, at once reminiscent of and distinct from early 20th-century European art. The influence of Western painting allowed them to liberate both their brushstrokes and their palettes, while freeing themselves from religious and official commissions, breaking the social taboos of the period. Some drew on Impressionism, others leaned toward Realism or Post‑Impressionism, yet all contributed to forging a Lebanese national identity and fostering the country’s artistic and social development. Their works also served as a source of inspiration for other Levantine societies of the era. Read on the same topic – Lebanese Impressionism: From Parisian Greyness to the Light of Mount Lebanon (1/4) – Lebanese Impressionism: Omar Onsi, Master of Light (2/4) – Lebanese Impressionism: César Gemayel, a Pioneer Between Two Worlds (3/4)

A key institutional figure and a major painter, César Gemayel stands as one of the pillars of modern painting in Lebanon. His career is defined by a transition from rigid, static academicism to a more sensuous and Oriental form of expression. He helped shift Lebanese art from purely religious or documentary forms toward a more personal expression, transforming traditional Lebanese forms of art into a modern visual language shaped by Impressionist and Parisian influences. The Man César Gemayel was born on February 9, 1898, in Aïn el-Touffaha, a small village in Mount Lebanon near Bikfaya, then under Ottoman Empire, into a family of notable standing. He initially pursued religious studies at the seminary in Kornet Chehwane, which he left following his father’s death to turn to pharmacology studies at the American University of Beirut. The Artist’s Beginnings Gemayel’s destiny took a decisive turn when he crossed paths with the painter Khalil Saleeby, a leading figure in Lebanese art. Impressed by his drawings, Saleeby took him on as an apprentice in his studio, where Gemayel developed exceptional technique. He soon abandoned pharmacology to dedicate himself fully to painting. In 1927, he left for Paris, where he attended the Académie Julian and the École des Beaux-Arts, two institutions that had trained renowned artists such as Matisse, Bonnard, and even Gibran Khalil Gibran. He spent three years studying the Parisian painting of the 1920s and 1930s up close, including Impressionism, Post-Impressionism, and Fauvism, showing a particular fondness for Fauvism and Impressionism. During this time, he developed a deep admiration for Renoir’s luminous palette. This Parisian period proved crucial in his development, with all these influences helping to liberate his palette and shaping his mature style. The Years of Maturity In 1930, Gemayel returned to Beirut. The following year, he was awarded first prize at the Paris International Colonial Exhibition and received the National Order of the Cedar. Emboldened by these distinctions, he decided to devote himself entirely to his art. During this period, Lebanon experienced a cultural effervescence, fueled by patrons such as Alfred Sursock, Omar Daouk, Henri Pharaon, and Camille Eddé. Until his death from a heart attack in Beirut in 1958, César Gemayel continued to paint, teach, and play an active role in Lebanon’s artistic life. In 1943, he co-founded the Department of Art and Architecture at the Lebanese Academy of Fine Arts (ALBA), where he taught, thus taking on a pivotal cultural role in the country’s intellectual independence and helping to structure art education in Lebanon. The Painter of Body and Land A hedonist of color, Gemayel managed, in both his portraits and landscapes, to capture Lebanese identity without slipping into folklore. His painting is characterized by vigorous brushwork and thick layered paint. Across his works, he privileged visual emotion over photographic detail. If Omar Onsi was the master of light and transparency, César Gemayel established himself as the master of the nude. This is arguably the boldest facet of his oeuvre. In a still highly conservative society, he introduced the academic nude, painting his models with a generous, almost sculptural sensuality. As for light and the Lebanese landscape, unlike Orientalist painters who reduced the Orient to mere exotic scenery, Gemayel rendered them with visceral intensity, with a sincerity and physical “fleshiness” that feel almost palpable. His Struggles Throughout his life, Gemayel faced the tension between tradition and modernity. At certain exhibitions, his nudes sparked controversy. Yet his technical mastery earned him the respect of both the elite and the clergy, paving the way for greater artistic freedom for future generations. In doing so, he introduced the nude and corporeal realism to the Middle East, exerting a major influence on Lebanese artists such as Shafic Abboud and Paul Guiragossian. In 1988, on the centenary of his birth, Lebanon paid him a national tribute, a testament to his enduring status as the definitive reference for Lebanese aesthetics in the 20th century. Even today, his works can be admired in prestigious institutions such as the Sursock Museum, Mathaf in Doha, and the Dalloul Art Foundation. An Iconic Work: “Nude in Repose” The nude is a recurring and emblematic theme in Gemayel’s work, whether in oil on canvas or charcoal sketches. His nudes are alive, rendered with a vibrant palette. He favors warm skin tones and does not hesitate to introduce subtly colored shadows. Under his free, expressive brush, the skin seems to quiver and breathe. The painting Nude in Repose perfectly illustrates his avant-garde sensibility and technical virtuosity. By concealing the model’s face, Gemayel directs the viewer’s full attention to the play of light across the skin. His fluid, liberated brushstrokes trace the curve of the back and spine, in the pure tradition of French Impressionism and painters such as Renoir. In Gemayel’s hands, voyeurism becomes gentle and poetic, never shocking. The model’s languid pose exudes a profound sensuality while maintaining a sense of modesty. Anatomy is idealized, and the elongated, softened lines prioritize the overall harmony of the composition. Beyond technique, exhibiting the nude female body – even from behind – in the 1930s and 1940s was a revolutionary act. Through his canvases, Gemayel directly challenged the taboos of his society, asserting artistic freedom and elevating the Lebanese art scene to the level of avant-garde Western movements. Next article Lebanese Impressionism: Moustafa Farroukh, Painter and Committed Intellectual Read on the same topic – Lebanese Impressionism: From Parisian Greyness to the Light of Mount Lebanon (1/4) – Lebanese Impressionism: Omar Onsi, Master of Light (2/4)

As noted in our previous article, the four pioneers of modern Lebanese painting – Khalil Saleeby, Omar Onsi, César Gemayel, and Mustafa Farroukh – imbued Western Impressionism with a distinctly Lebanese and Eastern spirit. Omar Onsi, a leading figure in modern Lebanese painting, is distinguished by his mastery of transparency and light. By working primarily in watercolor, he captured the poetic essence of Lebanon’s mountaintops and its natural landscapes. Influenced by Monet, Onsi abandoned the use of black, instead rendering shadows in deep blues and purples. Painting outdoors, his exceptional command of light earned him the nickname “Lebanon’s master of light.” With his rigorous observation of reality and a distinctly modern sensibility, Onsi helped liberate Lebanese painting from rigid classical portraiture, opening the way to scenes of everyday life and a heightened vision of the Lebanese landscape. An Early Calling Born in Beirut in 1901 into a cultivated Sunni family open to European ideas and ways of life, the young Omar discovered drawing and painting at an early age, encouraged by his grandfather, a poet to whom he owed his name. After a brief stint at the medical faculty of the Syrian Protestant College (later the American University of Beirut), he abandoned his studies against his parents’ wishes and chose an artistic path under the influence of Khalil Saleeby. He went on to train in technique, portraiture and the nude in Saleeby’s studio. In 1921, he won a silver medal at the Beirut International Fair, marking the first public recognition of his talent. Multiple Influences In the early 1920s, Onsi spent several years in Jordan, where he worked as a teacher of painting and English. There, he encountered the stark light and desert hues. This exposure to the Levantine landscape deepened his sensibility and nourished his pictorial imagination, leading him to paint Bedouin scenes and arid landscapes in a style that verged on the ethnographic. Toward the end of the decade, he moved to Paris to further his training, notably at the Académie Julian, La Grande Chaumière and the Académie Colarossi, where he encountered Impressionism firsthand, as well as the Barbizon and Fontainebleau schools. He painted Parisian scenes, nudes and portraits, and formed friendships with Lebanese artists in the diaspora, including the sculptor Youssef El Howayek. In 1933, he returned to Lebanon with his second wife, following a period of retreat in Syria after the death of his first spouse. This personal upheaval marked a decisive turning point in his artistic development: his palette grew lighter, his colors more vibrant, and the influence of Impressionism on his work became more pronounced. Return to Beirut and Recognition Upon returning to Lebanon, Omar Onsi made a living from his art. He held his first exhibition at the School of Arts and Crafts in Beirut in the early 1930s. The press soon hailed him as a leading landscape painter, and Beirut’s elite began acquiring his works. While continuing to depict rural scenes, Onsi also ventured into much bolder and taboo subjects, including the nude. Throughout the 1940s and 1950s, he exhibited across Europe, Egypt, and the Middle East, developing an iconography that was at once local and transnational. His Role in Modern Lebanese Painting Omar Onsi played a pivotal role in shaping Lebanon’s artistic institutions. In 1957, he co-founded the Lebanese Association of Painters and Sculptors, and from 1960, he served on the board of the Sursock Museum, which emerged as one of Beirut’s foremost centers of modern art. Until his death in 1969 in Beirut, he continued to explore the endless variations of the Lebanese landscape, while simultaneously strengthening the country’s cultural infrastructure through his teaching and active involvement. A major retrospective at the Sursock Museum in 1997 cemented his reputation as a pioneer of modern Lebanese painting. Today, his works are held in prestigious institutions such as Mathaf: Arab Museum of Modern Art in Qatar, as well as in private collections, specialized galleries, and at auctions conducted by leading houses such as Christie’s and MutualArt. An Iconic Work One of Omar Onsi’s most striking paintings is At the Exhibition , created upon his return from Paris in 1932. This bold oil fuses portraiture and observational scenes, capturing a striking cultural tension between modernity and Eastern social codes. It marks a turning point in Onsi’s style and thinking, as he moved away from classical portraiture. The scene depicts veiled Middle Eastern women dressed in black, observing a female nude in a museum – Oriental spectators confronted with an erotic object from the West. It was a profoundly transgressive image for its time. In another room, a Western-dressed woman converses with a man in a suit and tarbouche, highlighting the meeting – and tension – between Western modernity and Eastern tradition. Its multi-plane composition creates a deep sense of perspective, while purples, blacks, and blues intensify an atmosphere at once intimate and dramatic, accentuating the light on the nude figures. The painting encapsulates the clash of civilizations between an established Eastern society and one in transition, offering a vivid reflection of Lebanese society during the interwar period. Next article Lebanese Impressionism: César Gemayel, a Pioneer Between Two Worlds Read on the same topic Lebanese Impressionism: From Parisian Greyness to the Light of Mount Lebanon (1/4)

It was while walking the streets of my neighborhood that I stumbled upon one of the most unusual sights: an accordionist playing for no one and for everyone. To offer a moment of happiness in a country seemingly enamored with violence. He seeks neither money nor attention. He plays to share the magic of music with those who can still feel it. Thomas Kassis. That's his name. The one his adoptive parents gave him after he was moved from one foster home to another, those who finally chose to keep him. His biological parents? He doesn't know them. Thomas also works in construction, a sector hard hit by the current situation. But it is with his accordion that he lives a true love story. A passionate love story that began to blossom in 2017. As a child, the harmonica he played at home bothered the family. He resigned himself... until the day when, self-taught, he decided to take it to the streets, hoping to reach children. Out of 1,000 of them, he hopes that 2 or 3 will be captivated by the instrument. The Accordion, an Ancient Instrument Born in Europe at the beginning of the 19th century, the accordion was officially patented in 1829 in Vienna by Cyrill Demian. Its operation, however, is based on a much older principle: the free reed, inherited from the sheng, an ancient instrument from China. Conceived from its origin as a practical instrument, capable of simultaneously producing melody and accompaniment, it underwent rapid development throughout the 19th century thanks to technical innovations that enriched its keyboard and expanded its sonic possibilities. Rapidly adopted by popular circles, the accordion traveled with European migrations and became permanently established in many musical cultures: from French musette to Eastern European traditions, passing through Latin American repertoires. It comes in several forms - diatonic, chromatic, or with a piano keyboard - and gradually gains in complexity. Long associated with a folk image, it is now prominent in traditional music, jazz, contemporary creation, and the classical scene. A Passion to Transmit Long associated with popular music, the accordion takes on its full meaning when Thomas Kassis, a great lover of this instrument, offers it to those who know how to listen. As he says, this instrument feeds his soul and opens celestial doors. People endowed with humanism and sensitivity know how to appreciate the spiritual dimension of the accordion, today threatened by a "totally dehumanized" world, laments Thomas. For him, the most important thing is that the accordion endures. Hence the importance of introducing it to children naturally, and not through simplified instruments where one just needs to press a button to generate a melody. For Thomas, this is a heresy that stifles all creativity. The Power of Music in a Country in Crisis Thomas Kassis's story may not be exceptional, but it becomes unique in the current context of absolute violence, where dreams and poetry struggle to find their place. Ironically, it is in the midst of the Spring of Poets, whose theme this year is "Freedom. A living force, deployed," that Thomas walks the streets, scattering a few notes capable of instilling strength and energy in the Lebanese people, battered by wars and crises, but still carrying a fragile zest for life. Further proof that this instrument, whose unique sound evokes cheerfulness, can unite, encourage rethinking happiness, that fleeting moment that keeps escaping us.

The year 2026 marks the centenary of the death of Claude Monet, one of the founding figures of Impressionism. It was, after all, one of his paintings – Impression, Sunrise (Impression soleil levant) – that lent the movement its name. Impressionism emerged in France in the 1870s, carried by artists such as Claude Monet, Auguste Renoir, and Camille Pissarro. Breaking with the rigid rules of the Academy, the Impressionists moved away from the idea of rendering the “subject” with polished perfection. Instead, they sought to capture light, the fleeting moments, and the impression that a scene or model conveys. They embraced a spontaneous, unfiltered vision of the world, stripped of hierarchy – characterized by fragmented touches, swift, visible brushstrokes, and an intensive use of color, in which even shadows shimmered with hues of blue or violet rather than of black. They painted outdoors rather than in the studio - a revolution made possible by the advent of paint in tubes, which freed artists from the confines of the workshop and allowed them to capture scenes directly from nature. Lebanon’s Cultural Flourishing At the dawn of the 20th century, Lebanon experienced an unprecedented cultural flourishing. It was the dawn of the Nahda , an intellectual and cultural revival that touched nearly every field, and painting in particular. Pioneer Lebanese artists travelled to Paris and Rome to study, bringing back the techniques of modern painting, including Impressionism. Here, however, the aim was no longer to reproduce the grey light of the Parisian sky, but rather the radiant light of Mount Lebanon’s landscapes. In this sense, Levantine Impressionists had to master the region’s harsh, white light, giving rise to a more contrasted and vibrant style. Lebanese Impressionism did not merely imitate its Western counterpart. It adapted it to an Eastern sensibility, expressing nostalgia, rural life, and the beauty of nature and cultural heritage. The Quartet of Light At the turn of the 20th century, four artists emerged as the pioneers of both Impressionism and modern painting in Lebanon: Khalil Saleeby, Omar Onsi, César Gemayel, and Mustafa Farroukh. Khalil Saleeby, a Leading Figure of Lebanese Painting A true precursor of modern painting in Lebanon, Saleeby introduced a more liberated approach to both portraiture and landscape and showed a keen ability to capture and convey the psychology of his subjects. In the manner of the Old Masters, Saleeby employed light and chiaroscuro to shape volume and depth, giving his portraits a remarkable sense of depth and presence. His Journey Khalil Saleeby was born in Btalloun in 1870. After studying at the Syrian Protestant College (now the American University of Beirut, AUB) he went to study art in Edinburgh, the United States, and Paris. There, he encountered prominent figures, including the American painter John Singer Sargent, whose influence profoundly shaped Saleeby’s portrait technique. Upon returning to Lebanon in 1900, Saleeby opened his own studio in Beirut, directly opposite the AUB. He became a mentor to future leading figures of modern Lebanese painting, including César Gemayel and Omar Onsi. His life ended tragically in 1928, when he and his American wife, Carrie, were murdered in their native village following a local dispute over water rights. His Work Saleeby transformed art in Lebanon from a craft or religious based practice into a truly intellectual and modern profession. His style evolved from classical, academic realism toward a vibrant form of Impressionism. He employed a rich palette, playing with light, soft pink tones, and opalescent blues. Although he painted landscapes and village scenes, Saleeby is best known for his portraits and nudes. He was among the first Arab artists to treat the nude academically, breaking through the numerous social taboos of his time. His personal collection, preserved by his family, is now housed at the AUB Art Gallery in Beirut, regarded as a national treasure. A Signature Work: The Unfinished Self-Portrait Throughout his career, Saleeby painted several self-portraits in which he depicts himself with an intense, proud gaze, employing light and broad brushstrokes. These works perfectly demonstrate his ability to capture not just the physical likeness, but the inner psychology of his subjects. among his most poignant pieces is his unfinished self-portrait from 1928. Left on his easel at the time of his assassination, the painting encapsulates Saleeby’s late style: free and vigorous brushwork, an intense gaze reflecting his own psyche, and a masterful use of light that remains striking despite the work’s unfinished state. Next article Lebanese Impressionism: Omar Onsi, Master of Light

From 18 February to 5 July 2026, the Musée des Arts Décoratifs presents "A Day in the Eighteenth Century, Chronicle of a Hôtel Particulier" — an immersive journey through an aristocratic Parisian residence of the 1780s, on the eve of the French Revolution. From rising to retiring, everything here follows the rhythm of the clock. This exhibition lets itself be breathed in like a long-vanished perfume, a small miracle of that Enlightenment art de vivre in which each of the 550 objects scattered along the route tells one and the same story: that of a vanished time whose refined aesthetics elevated Paris to the rank of European capital of fashion and the arts… a title seldom contested to this day. The Lever: an intimacy offered Behind the façades of the hôtel particulier, the city stirs. A muffled rumble of carriages, the calls of street vendors, the scrape of footsteps on damp cobblestones. Inside, another world takes shape — slower, denser, almost suspended. The day begins in the bedchamber, around seven o'clock, centered on a lit à la duchesse set perpendicular to the wall. Comfort makes its appearance, yet intimacy remains relative. The lever is a moment of sociability. Suppliers, secretaries, directors of conscience are received. Conversation mingles with gesture. In the milky morning light, materials come alive. Waxed floorboards, fabrics creased from the night's deep sleep, reflections of pewter and porcelain. The toilette unfolds slowly, according to codified rituals. Wigs of natural hair are powdered, beauty patches placed with precision on faces, powdery and floral perfumes fill the masters' bedchamber. All around, objects compose an intimate landscape: ewers, basins, soap boxes, finely decorated patch boxes, bidets, bourdalous. Almanacs, consulted within arm's reach, recall that time is structured, divided, mastered. A varnished sedan chair from the 1740s–50s, in wood, brass and painted canvas, waits quietly in the shadows, ready to extend this staging of the body within the city. Water is scarce. The bath requires a copper water-heater and remains a luxury. The toilette is, above all, dry, tactile, precise. Toilette and Appearance: elegance as language To dress in the eighteenth century is to tell the world one's story. A robe à l'anglaise in white silk pékin, traversed by pink stripes and green zigzag lines, brocaded with bouquets, embodies this exigence. The colours are subtle, never garish, the harmonies tonal. White, grey or blue, lifted by touches of something livelier. Silks, velvets and ribbons capture the light and return it gently. The rituals of beauty are strict: every patch, every powder, every perfume plays its part in a social language. It is in this era that Paris asserts itself as capital of fashion. European eyes converge here, drawn by this precision of taste. Morning and Movement: air, body, city After the toilette, the body steps out and breathes. Under the influence of the physician Théodore Tronchin, whose ideas circulate widely at the time, the habit of walking at several hours of the day takes hold — one tronchines . In the gardens of the hôtels particuliers, gravel crunches underfoot. The air carries mingled scents. Flowers, damp earth, and further off the smells of the city: leather, smoke, life. When one ventures out to be seen, silhouettes cross, greet, observe one another. Movement, too, becomes a language. Library and Boudoir: to organise and to withdraw Before or after the dîner — for so the midday meal was called in the eighteenth century — the library offers a space for reflection. Monsieur reads, thinks, consults almanacs and calendars. The day is ordered here with precision. He takes an interest in the wider world. China, Japan and other fantasised elsewheres nourish his curiosity. In counterpoint, Madame's boudoir is more intimate. She settles into a carved walnut ottoman, painted in grey and gold. She writes, reads, draws. She works with materials too, embroidering pearls, silk threads and cords. Her gestures are fine and repetitive, almost meditative. The Dîner: light and mise en scène Taken between two and four in the afternoon, the dîner structures the day. The dining room gradually organises itself: console desserte, ice coolers, a wall fountain, caned chairs. The table, often still mounted on trestles, becomes a stage. The service à la française presents all dishes at once. The colours of food, porcelain and glass enter into dialogue. At the centre, a centrepiece of spun glass captures and fragments the light. All is spectacle, and measure. Collations and Pleasures: sweetness and distinction After the dîner, the collation takes its place. In a salon or boudoir, one takes chocolate, coffee, tea. The perfumes are warmer, more enveloping. Chocolate, reputed to be a stimulant, is sometimes drunk from the saucer. The gestures are precise, almost silent. Objects extend the experience: porcelain, silverware, precious snuff boxes. Taking snuff becomes a social ritual. To offer one's snuffbox is a mark of attention and distinction. Games, Conversation and Music: the art of shining In the evening, sociability reaches its height. Games of tric-trac, quadrille and bouillotte punctuate the space. Tables, chairs, postures are all conceived for seeing and being seen. But above all, one speaks. Wit circulates, swift, precise. Conversation becomes an art. One thinks here of Patrice Leconte's film Ridicule : the same era, the same verbal virtuosity, the same peril of the ill-placed word. Music accompanies these moments — a seven-pedal maple harp by Sébastien Renault and François Chatelain, harpsichord and transverse flute, together composing an intimate chamber music, its sounds light, almost suspended. The Souper: towards intimacy Later, between half past eight and eleven at night, the souper grows more discreet. Servants withdraw, voices lower, gestures simplify. Mobile furniture allows one to serve oneself. A form of freedom appears, gentle, almost imperceptible. Sleep: the last surrender Night closes the day. White nightshirts, sleeping caps, slowing gestures. A night-light casts a fragile glow. In the final room of the exhibition, Le Sommeil , attributed to Hugues Taraval (c. 1779), condenses this tipping point: the body surrenders, weighted with all the sensations of the day. A collation may remain set beside the bed. Outside, the city still murmurs. A Sensuality of Time At the Musée des Arts Décoratifs, each object participates in a system in which time is regulated, the body composed, life staged. Muted colours, muffled sounds, diffuse perfumes: everything converges toward an experience at once sensory and codified. This world does not merely exist; it orchestrates itself. And perhaps that is what still unsettles us: that intensity of detail, in which every instant had a texture, a smell, a light.

At the heart of the City of Light, amidst archives, sculptures, bolts of fabric and thimbles, there vibrates a house where the fragrance of May roses seizes the olfactory memory of its visitors. A house where past and present hold dialogue. Since the fertile shadow cast by John Galliano and the arrival of Jonathan Anderson, a new reading of the Dior legacy seems to be emerging: more conceptual, more artistic, yet profoundly faithful to the spirit of the house founded in 1946. A Study in Form It was at the Musée Rodin, that marvel of Auguste's sculptures, that this new chapter revealed itself. Following the haute couture show during the last week of January 2026, the installation Grammaire des Formes opened to the public beneath the ephemeral marquee where the collection had first been presented to the world. Fifteen silhouettes by Anderson held conversation there with nine historic creations by Monsieur Dior and several ceramics by Kenyan sculptor Magdalene Odundo. The setting was almost radical. The floor, covered in silver aged-lamé herringbone parquet, murmured to a ceiling drowning in pink cyclamens. This jewel box embraced the dresses as much as the curves of Odundo's creations. Hand-fashioned, these works develop a language of tensions inspired by the human body and ancestral pottery traditions. In Anderson's collection, these forms find an unmistakable echo: cinched waists, sculpted volumes, almost architectural silhouettes. Couture becomes material here, a conversation between garment and sculpture. Groups of children, seated on the floor with pencils in hand, were drawing and colouring the models in their notebooks. A simple, silent moment that recalled that couture is, above all, a way of seeing that takes form. This first collection by Anderson for Dior does not seek the spectacular. It functions rather as a study. Galliano, the Fertile Shadow One cannot approach this moment without evoking John Galliano. Fashion's enfant terrible — the one whose latest provocation consigned him to a purgatory to purge his demons. Before Anderson, it was Galliano who had truly transformed Dior. In the 1990s and 2000s, he had turned the venerable house into theatre: spectacular shows, historical references, flamboyant silhouettes. Anderson makes no attempt to reproduce that dramaturgy. But he seems to have retained its essential lesson: the idea that Dior must remain a place of experimentation. Where Galliano worked with narrative and costume, Anderson explores archives and form. Another way of being radical, but with the same awareness of heritage. Moreover, the cyclamens on the ceiling are the extension of the tiny bouquet offered by the master to the pupil, when the latter invited the former — in a private preview — to discover the collection of the one who truly succeeded him. A flower as disarming as a pivot, as beautiful as a tribute. The Bar Jacket, Centre of Gravity At the heart of this reflection remains a founding piece: the Bar jacket. Created in 1947 to accompany the New Look, it remains the matrix of the entire house: cinched waist, sculpted hips, architectural silhouette. In Anderson's hands, it appears sometimes intact, sometimes displaced or decomposed, shortened or elongated, like a sculpture examined from several angles. It is the sign that a house may evolve without disowning its origins. The demonstration continued at the most recent ready-to-wear show at the Jardin des Tuileries in Paris, before a pond scattered with water lilies… The revisited classics were acclaimed for their balance between historical precision and contemporary breath; a moment when the house seemed to fully assume this tension between archives and avant-garde. On Literature and Humanism Dior has long maintained a discreet dialogue with culture. One finds it today in the large-format Dior Book Tote bags, which have become almost literary objects. Some bear the titles of great classics printed on their canvas. From Les Fleurs du Mal to Madame Bovary , from Les Liaisons dangereuses to Dracula , these accessories now resemble books one would carry over the shoulder, as though couture itself were becoming a library. That said, the history of Dior is not merely aesthetic, nor intellectual. During the Occupation, Christian Dior continued his work as a couturier in Paris while his sister Catherine Dior was engaged in the Resistance. Arrested and deported to the Ravensbrück concentration camp, she would return after the war… the perfume Miss Dior is dedicated to her. This tension between shadow and light is part of the house's memory. It explains why Dior has never been merely a brand, but a human story. A House That Redefines Itself Dior has passed through several periods. There was the radicality of the New Look, the successive visions of artistic directors, then years in which the house's image seemed to be searching for itself. The logos, once discreet, grew immense before finding a more subtle form. Today, under the thoughtful impetus of Delphine Arnault, the house seems to want to recover the balance between heritage and invention. The arrival of Jonathan Anderson fits clearly within this direction. A Living Memory To touch a leather, to observe and wear a cut, to inhale a refined perfume or even to gently open a Lady Dior bag is sometimes enough to understand the DNA of this house. Dior is not merely a silhouette, not merely an aesthetic. It is a creative memory in motion, a couture born under a fortunate star — for it never forgets where it comes from; yet continues to explore what it might become: fashion's madeleine de Proust, in perpetual reinvention.

Eyes circled in black, pure, stormy, contrasting. Beautiful enough to drown in. Dominic Harrison, alias Yungblud, rushes onto the stage and screams his fauvism at the top of his lungs. A life of rage, grandeur, and self-confidence acquired and now alchemizing. Each of his gestures is a flash; each of his movements, a fire. He doesn't just perform his songs. He lets them explode with fire. The pit ignites as soon as he appears. The bass rumbles like thunder. My daughter and her friend are a little further away, I'm in the back. Every vibration in the air passes through us. Then he emerges. Body sculpted under the spotlights, animal presence, blue eyes made up like a storm. Yungblud bursts onto the stage, he is a wild fire. A cigarette between his fingers, which he will light later, and already the heat is unbearable. His presence is lion-like. Every gesture, every movement sweeps everything in its path. He doesn't just sing: he consumes the air, the crowd, the night. Between two fucking-signatures rock'n'rolling our eardrums, his impertinence bursts forth. The stage-pit boundary disappears. We are at the heart of his storm. An immediate intensity In our arena, preheated by the Californian band Palaye Royale, Dominic's tracks erupt. Hello Heaven, The Funeral, Lovesick Lullaby, Lowlife, Changes… I hadn't experienced such a scene since those offered by our small Beirut screens, when they worked according to the electric current, in the 90s. Yungblud's musical offering is raw, true. Alternative rock, punk bursts, choruses chanted like oaths. The guitars bite. The percussion hammers. The acclaimed writing is a sensitive mix of rage, of vulnerability assumed rather than chosen. A marked aesthetic The audience is transported. Around us, a beautiful youth. From teenagers to forty-somethings, everyone has carefully chosen their outfit. Black outfits, stage flames illuminating gothic-leaning make-up, a bit or even a lot of Tim Burton's alternative rock version, DNA of our star obliges. He is not a shy singer but a lion; we can write it. His rock lineage is asserted: echoes of Nirvana, Bowie, and especially Ozzy Osbourne, a central influence for his artistic identity. Changes holds a central dimension for Yungblud. Also, on February 1st this year, Dominic won the Grammy Award for Best Rock Performance for his live cover of this last title, a Black Sabbath interpretation dedicated to Osbourne himself. Off stage, Harrison channels his energy into boxing. He shares live rehearsal moments, his dogs, and moments of closeness with his audience on Instagram. Fans ask for more because their idol is authentic. A voice for the new generation Yungblud is not just a performer. At 28, he is a mirror for youth. Vulnerable but powerful, unfiltered but always good and generous. He addresses mental health, freedom, and self-acceptance as a driving force that allows one to exist without compromise. Each of his concerts is a shared experience. Last October in Paris, when this concert took place, the energy was raw and the freedom palpable. LGBTQ+ commitment was naturally evident, without emphasis. Since then, Dominic has publicly proclaimed his support for the massacred people of Iran to his audience. One of the rare artists to voice the concerns of this free and enlightened youth, now sacrificed. Next to me, my daughter and her friend are literally electrified. They sing every word. We vibrate together, in body and soul, crossed by the same wave. This intergenerational concert created a warmth that awakens. Dominic's striking personality, his musical fauvism, disturbed me. He is an artist who shakes up codes and certainties and embodies his own in an incantatory way. He burns and blurs the bland boundaries of the ambient, often calibrated, sonic timidity. Yungblud is not just a singer. He is a catalyst of emotions, a fire that consumes and illuminates at the same time. Thanks to my daughter whose precious help and love made it possible to write this fiery piece.

Museums in Iran play a key role in supporting the country’s political and diplomatic strategy. They are also crucial for preserving and showcasing the treasures of Persian civilization. The National Museum of Iran stands as the country’s foremost archaeological and historical museum. It highlights the richness of Persian heritage and houses invaluable collections spanning Iranian history – from the Paleolithic era through the Medes, Elamites, Achaemenids, Parthians, Sassanids, and into the Islamic period. Within its walls, the official narrative of “Iran” is articulated: a continuous thread running from Elam and the Achaemenid Empire to the Islamic Republic, represented by over 300,000 objects that weave together the nation’s millennia-spanning history. The National Museum is composed of two main entities: the Museum of Ancient Iran and the Museum of the Islamic Period. The Museum of Ancient Iran Established in the 1930s during the reign of Reza Shah, the main building – known as the Museum of Ancient Iran – is dedicated to the pre-Islamic period. Its architecture draws inspiration from the Sassanid style, notably the Taq-e Kasra (Arch of Ctesiphon). Designed by French architects André Godard and Maxime Siroux, the museum was inaugurated in 1937. Rather than showcasing the legendary jewels of the Shahs’ treasury, the museum presents the full sweep of Iran’s history, embodied in thousands of objects, including seals, bas-reliefs, pottery, manuscripts, statues, and more. Among its highlights are inscriptions and texts from the Late Uruk period (circa 3350–3000 B.C.), which were relocated to modern, secure storage during the 2010s. The museum also houses one of the “Salt Men” of Zanjan – a naturally mummified miner, perfectly preserved by the salt of the mine where it was discovered, dating to roughly 550–330 B.C. Other standout pieces include the monumental Shami Bronze, towering 1.94 meters and considered a masterpiece of Parthian sculpture. The museum also preserves bas-reliefs and bull-headed capitals from Persepolis (6th–4th century B.C.), of exceptional quality, offering a striking synthesis of Achaemenid architectural artistry. The collection further encompasses prehistoric pottery and ceramics from Tepe Sialk, near Kashan – true works of art dating from the 6th to the 4th millennium B.C. – as well as bronzes from Lorestan (circa 1000-650 B.C.) and gold cups and rhytons from Marlik (1400-1200 B.C.), considered the pinnacle of Iron Age Iranian craftsmanship. The Museum of the Islamic Period The Islamic Art department of the National Museum of Iran occupies a dedicated modern building, inaugurated in 1996. It houses an invaluable collection tracing Persia’s post-Islamic history, highlighting the refinement of Islamic art in Iran. The collection features Safavid artworks, ceramics, manuscripts, metalwork, textiles, and many other treasures. Among its standout pieces is the Ilkhanid mihrab from Dar-e Behesht, known as the “Gate of Paradise.” This 14th-century mosaic of glazed tiles, produced under the Ilkhanid dynasty, is renowned for its intricate calligraphy (kufic, thuluth, naskh) and its floral and geometric motifs. The museum also displays a 9th-century ceramic bowl from Gorgan adorned with an anthropomorphic bull-headed figure, watercolor paintings by Sani ol-Molk from the Qajar period (18th century), as well as elegant astrolabes and other masterpieces. The Role of Museum Curators Walking a fine line between power and memory, museum curators in Iran navigate a complex and delicate terrain. They frequently encounter subtle forms of censorship – not overt bans, but signals, recommendations, and “sensitivities” that must be observed. Even decisions about which works to display and how to frame them can involve sensitive subjects, including ancient religious pluralism, the role of women in past societies, or foreign influences. The fundamental challenge for curators is to balance the pre-Islamic narrative – of an ancient, imperial nation – with the Islamic narrative and the state’s identity strategy, all while preserving the intellectual rigor required of any historical account. Finally, it is worth noting the professionalization efforts undertaken in some of Tehran’s museums: modernization of storage and security systems, appointment of a dedicated curator for the inscriptions section, and more. These measures reflect an increasingly technocratic approach to heritage management. This raises a provocative question: in times of national crisis, is it inappropriate to focus on the fate of museums and works of art rather than the welfare of people? On the contrary – the more unsettled the world becomes, the more essential art and its guardians are, not only to bear witness but, above all, to preserve and transmit our shared human history to future generations. Read on the same topic: Museums in Iran: a Heritage Under Siege (1/2)