LETTERS FROM BEIRUT

Beirut is a city of outsize sorrows. Still scarred by its 15-year civil war, the city was bowed again on Aug. 4, 2020, when ammonium nitrate exploded at the port, levelling neighbourhoods, killing more than 200 people.

Sisters Tessa and Tara Sakhi wanted to do something for the survivors. Using their skills—they run T SAKHI, a multidisciplinary architecture and design studio in Beirut—they conceived a new form of old communication: handwritten letters, not delivered by post but held in hand-woven pouches in an interactive installation. Letters from Beirut is displayed in the Giardini della Marinaressa at the Venice Architecture Biennale 2021. Visitors are invited to take a pouch, read the letter, plant the seed included inside, and donate to one of the nongovernmental organisations aiding Beirut, listed with the letters.

One of those organisations is The Big Heart Foundation, led by Her Highness Sheikha Jawaher bint Mohammed Al Qasimi, wife of His Highness the Ruler of Sharjah. Irthi Contemporary Crafts Council also works with The Big Heart Foundation, and representatives had met the Sakhi sisters at Design Miami, where they discussed how to revive Beirut.

“Since we are a crafts council, we wanted to support the Lebanese community through design,” says Alya Omar Al Midfa, senior executive for marketing and corporate communications at Irthi in Sharjah. 

The installation is a six-metre-long wall covered with about 4,000 pouches, made using the sayer yaay technique of weaving, as well as talli and safeefah crafts. Instead of using the usual palm leaves, the 37 female artisans worked with recycled felt stitched in silver Zari thread. Like the people who wrote the letters inside, the pouches share a resemblance but each is unique. 

“It was a great way for Irthi to collaborate with the Sakhi sisters for a good cause,” Al Midfa says. “It’s in line with our mission of empow- ering the women practicing those crafts.”

The paper for the letters was also handmade, by three students from Zayed University in Abu Dhabi. 

“Where is humanity going?” one letter asks. “I dream of better days,” says another. “Sometimes the heart wants to scream what the mouth barely dares to murmur.” “My mother’s screams and cries have been haunting my dreams since Aug. 4th.” 

The Sakhi sisters sent out a call on social media to find Beirut residents to write the letters. Some writers included their emails or phone numbers so the recipient may get in contact directly. 

Like life, the installation is ephemeral. By the end of the Biennale in November, the letters and their pouches are expected to all be in new homes. But, also like life, they will live on in new forms—communication with the letter writers, the seeds sprouting into plants and donations helping to rebuild Beirut.