From that point on I was known in the camp as the women from the exhibition and even now when I visit families to look at their family photographs, they all want to talk with me about this initial exhibition. People clearly remember it with pleasure: they looked at the photos – and sometimes saw themselves – drank juice, ate sweets and listened to the bagpipe band. For many it was an unusual event and a number of people asked why we had decided to put on an exhibition in the camp.

Encouraged by their experience, the group was eager to organize another exhibition in Beirut. They wanted to hang their photographs in a “real” exhibition space. While I felt that in many ways the first exhibition we had organized in Burj al-Shamali was far more challenging for them – since it required that they engage their own community – I could understand their aspiration. While the exhibition had been praised in the context of the camp, they wanted to see if their work would generate the same level of interest and recognition in a more formal gallery setting.

We found an exhibition space (www.umam-dr.org) in Beirut that agreed to host the show. In preparation for this next exhibition we reedited the images and chose to focus on new subjects. Ahmad selected several different series of views of the camp that he had shot for review. His photographs have a highly formal aesthetic that involves shadow play, the particular quality of light at sunset, and a variety of unusual perspectives. In the end, he opted to exhibit a series exploring the theme of borders in the camp. Mapping construction and deconstruction are also critical elements of Ali’s work. In one sequence of photographs selected for the show, he documents the construction of a mosque within the bounds of the camp over seven years.

An ongoing series initiated in January 2008.

Photographs by Ahmad al-Khalil.

The mosque, August 2001, March 2005, and October 2006 to April 2008.

Photographs by Ali Al-Ali.

Fatmeh’s aesthetic and working method is rather different. She is profoundly patient, often taking only one picture at a time – sometimes one over the course of a day, and at other times one every few weeks. In her selection of images she addressed two very different, though related, issues – the interplay between the reality around her and her will to dream.

An ongoing series initiated in March 2008.

Photographs by Fatmeh Soleiman.

Nisreen, who had been absent from the group for a couple of  years because her parents felt she should concentrate on her studies,  chose to exhibit recent work. The theme she addressed through the photos was her wish to honor the dead using another aesthetic than the iconic commemorative imagery associated with martyrdom. All her photos celebrate people who lived in Burj al-Shamali, and she memorialized them in the collective memory of the community through photographs.

An ongoing series initiated in March 2008.

Photographs by Nesreen Musherfih.

Susan, who by then was married and living outside of Burj al-Shamali in al-Buss camp, asked me to include the series of photos she had taken of doors, but also the more private images that depicted the interiors of people’s homes. These photos, which she had not felt able to exhibit in the camp, are remarkable for the way in which they reveal – obliquely – not only the diversity of people’s taste in home decor but also the kind of living conditions that now characterize camp life. Since she was unable to come to Beirut to hang her work with the others, we did this for her.

Burj al-Shamali’s doors and sofas, March 2005 and May 2007.

Photographs by Susan al-Khatib.

Yasser chose the overarching theme of Palestine and photographed camp elders – those who knew the Palestine he never did. He also decided to focus on the camp’s visual environment. In particular he was interested in the ways that factions and associations compete with one another through poster campaigns throughout the camp, papered over walls, doors and electricity pylons. The sequence of images he chose was, in effect, a visual chronicle of those battles.

An ongoing series initiated in April 2007.

Photographs by Yasser Ibrahim.

In Beirut the few visitors who were able to see the exhibition before the ten days war started in May 2008 that paralyzed Dahiyeh where the gallery was located, didn’t always understand the context of the pictures, despite the introductory text explaining the origin of the photographs and circumstance of their production. In the institutional setting of the gallery, the photographs were presented as formal art works – high quality prints mounted on PVC, which were hung on white walls and accompanied by detailed captions. In retrospect we didn’t place enough emphasis in the introduction to the show on the context in which the work was produced or on the ways in which the images represented a particularly vivid and acute engagement with the specific local environment of Burj al-Shamali: this perhaps is where the real value of these works lies.

The time that I spent living and working with this group, and having access to a space in which to set up an atelier were essential to the evolution of the project. It allowed us to develop a collaborative relationship with the group and to expand our collective work on Burj al-Shamali’s visual memory. Even though the group I’ve worked with have not been directly involved in the archiving work that we have done of the past few years, it was through the exhibits of their work in the camp that we have been able to win the confidence of the community in this more recent initiative to collect and document the visual memory of Burj al-Shamali. This visual archive of family photographs and films that we are compiling can, for the moment, only be accessed through the atelier.

My main role throughout the project has been to animate and coordinate the production and collection of images. As the initiator of the project, I have always felt responsible for the life of these photographs. This concern is one of the main reasons why for a long time I refused funding from different types of institutions and NGOs and kept the project going by my own modest financial means. I wasn’t willing to compromise on the question of ownership of these images; the copyright remains with the person who produced the image. It is only when I met the Arab Image Foundation that I found a suitable partner for this project, as they agreed to support the work without arrogating any rights on the collection of photographs.

The publishing and circulation of these photographs continues to be be handled carefully. At the outset of the project we were invited by a newspaper to publish some of the images alongside an article on politics in Palestine. We collectively decided that the images could not be used as illustrations, but could only be published with detailed captions and in the context of projects initiated through the atelier. For example the elders in Burj al-Shamali that Yasser has photographed do not represent all Palestinian men of their generation, but have particular histories and experiences. Each of Yasser’s photographs is accompanied by detailed biographical information. Like all photographs to have come out of this project, they have been produced in a particular context and are not meant to illustrate the cultural, social or political life of Palestinian camps in general, but the specific experiences of refugees living in Burj al-Shamali.

In the last year the production of images has slowed, but we still encourage and support the group to continue their work with no pressure to publish. The process of collecting old photos for the archive continues gradually. In the course of discussions about what should happen with the archive we have encountered similar ethical dilemmas related to the question of how to disseminate these photographs and to what extent they should be made publicly available. Despite these concerns we continue to encourage the community to carry on sharing their old photos with us. Over time we hope to develop alternative strategies for circulating the images that we are producing and collecting, which until now have remained largely unseen.