How Beirut's emerging designers tell a story of resilience in creativity

The second in our Design Cities series, Beirut is a model of resourcefulness and adaptability: we look at how the layered history of the city is reflected in its designers' output

Beirut designers photographed at the beach
Carlo Massoud, Mary-Lynn Massoud, Samer Bou Rjeily and Tara Jane Tabet, all photographed on Ramlet al-Baida beach, at the southern end of Beirut’s Corniche
(Image credit: Tanya Traboulsi)

In this new series on Design Cities, we zero in on three new creative metropolises – Abidjan, Côte d’Ivoire; Beirut, Lebanon; and Taipei, Taiwan – to spotlight the designers and curators who are shaping these vibrant new design communities

Meet Beirut's emerging creatives

Beirut designers photographed at the beach

From left, Richard Yasmine, Roula Salamoun, Guilaine Elias and Nour Najem

(Image credit: Tanya Traboulsi)

‘It’s in the culture of the Lebanese to get things done by themselves with what they have,’ says Guilaine Elias, co-founder of design brand Editions Levantine. ‘We don’t always have access to materials from abroad, so we make do with what is here.’ This resourcefulness was the guiding force behind the recent group show ‘Fragmenta’, which Elias organised alongside creative director Nour Najem. Co-curated with interior designer Gregory Gatserelia, the exhibition brought together 49 designers (mostly based in Beirut) to reinterpret cast-off marble fragments from stone company Najem Group. The project was staged over three days in the company’s marble yard in the Beirut suburbs.

Beirut designers work at Fragmenta group exhibition, with pieces made of stone

Roula Salamoun's work from Fragmenta

(Image credit: Marya Gazzaoui Alameddine and Charbel Saade)

Beirut designers work at Fragmenta group exhibition, with pieces made of stone

Tara Jane Tabet

(Image credit: Marya Gazzaoui Alameddine and Charbel Saade)

‘Being a designer in Beirut is interesting because there is a history and there is drama – but we tend to express ourselves with very little means,’ says Elias, referring to the ethos behind the exhibition concept, which saw designers working directly with Najem Group’s marble carvers. ‘Sometimes we have access to synthetic materials like resin, but we don’t have highly sophisticated production methods. Which means we often take an artisanal approach.’

Being a designer in Beirut is interesting because there is a history and there is drama

Guilaine Elias

Beirut designers work at Fragmenta group exhibition, with pieces made of stone

Carlo & Mary Lynn Massoud

(Image credit: Marya Gazzaoui Alameddine and Charbel Saade)

Beirut designers work at Fragmenta group exhibition, with pieces made of stone

Carlo Massoud

(Image credit: Marya Gazzaoui Alameddine and Charbel Saade)

Wandering through the marble yard on the day of the opening, the work was varied and often surprising. Samer Bou Rjeily, who often works with raw, unpolished stone, designed a massive low-sitting table with a texture similar to gouged wood. Brother-and-sister duo Mary-Lynn and Carlo Massoud brought their characteristic sense of humour to a surrealist bench with trompe-l’œil ‘cushions’ carved out of stone.

Tara Jane Tabet, whose sculptural work is often made with found materials, produced delicate, amorphously shaped candleholders out of what looked like stone beads. Richard Yasmine’s pop sensibility was on display in a purple stone baroque flower garden with curling vines made of brass and glass, and fabric blooms. Finally, Roula Salamoun, whose practice often draws on geological forms, used a forest-green marble to make asymmetrical tables with contrasting inlay using otherwise forgotten scraps.

Beirut designers work in stone as part of fragmenta

Samer Bou Rjeily

(Image credit: Marya Gazzaoui Alameddine and Charbel Saade)

Najem sees this plurality as a reflection of the country’s layered history. ‘Lebanon is an amalgam of every culture, every conqueror that passed through these lands, each with a different stylistic expression – from the Silk Road to the Romans and the Greeks,’ she says. ‘And that’s the beauty of it – the fact that it’s so diverse.’

However, she acknowledges that the country’s turbulent history also has an influence on the community’s creative output. ‘After the civil war, almost everything had to do with the war. You had work that was about fracturing and being broken. And later on, it was about rebuilding. After the port blast in 2020, you saw many designers incorporate debris and destruction into their work. But right now, we want to be more than that.’ She also warns that the international gaze has a tendency to romanticise the population’s resilience and struggle: ‘We still want to be held to high standards. We want to be known as a country that produces great design – not just for what we’ve been through.’

Beirut designers work in stone as part of fragmenta

Richard Jasmine

(Image credit: Marya Gazzaoui Alameddine and Charbel Saade)

Laura May Todd, Wallpaper's Milan Editor, based in the city, is a Canadian-born journalist covering design, architecture and style. She regularly contributes to a range of international publications, including T: The New York Times Style Magazine, Architectural Digest, Elle Decor, Azure and Sight Unseen, and is about to publish a book on Italian interiors.