A reflection on a photographic conversation from Burj al-Shamali camp.
When I initiated a series of small summer workshops in six Palestinian camps in Lebanon in 2001 with photographer Simon Lourié, I never imagined that we would be going back and forth to the camps for four years, or that I would finally decide to live in one of them, Burj al-Shamali.
My interest in participatory photography can be traced back to a conversation I had with a boy who took part in one of the first workshops we organized. As I was collecting the cameras in order to develop the films, he asked, “Now that you have the material, you’ll never come back, right? We won’t even see our photos?” It wasn’t a provocation; his question was based on experience. This for me marked the beginning of a process of ongoing reflection about the limits and possibilities of participatory photography – an increasingly common phenomenon not only in refugee camps in Lebanon, but in other marginal communities around the world. The experience of running these workshops raised a number of critical questions that made me hesitant about continuing: why propose a cultural activity in a community where other needs are more pressing? How should one deal with images that are produced by local participants and what role does the facilitator play? What happens when the workshop ends? In spite of my reservations, the young people I met and collaborated with encouraged me to continue.
Burj al-Shamali was established in 1956 to provide refuge for Palestinians who were forced to flee their homes and villages during the events of 1948. Located to the south of the city of Tyre, the camp is about one hour’s drive from Beirut. There is now a population of around 19,000 refugees (the official number given by UNRWA), the majority of whom hail from the northern Galilee. While Burj al-Shamali is particularly poor, compared with other camps in Lebanon, it is relatively stable politically.
While we first started working in the Burj al-Shamali in 2001, it was not until 2006 that Abu Wassim, the director of Beit Atfal Assoumoud (www.burjalshamali.net, www.socialcare.org) – a socio-cultural centre in the camp – agreed to host our “atelier” permanently on the top floor of his building. Securing this space proved to be a critical development and has been essential for our work. Neither Simon nor I wanted to be selective about who could participate, so having this space meant that youth could come and go freely, with the work process proving to be its own form of selection. Those who were serious about developing their skills kept on coming, and at the same time the atelier was always open to other curious youngsters to drop in. That is how I first met Ahmad when he stopped by one day, after hearing that there were photographers working in the camp. Until today, he has been one of the most committed photographers that I have worked with in the camp.
 Susan with Yasmine in the atelier of Borj al-Shamali after having edited a new series of photogarphs, March 2007. Photograph by Simon Lourié. |
 Fatmeh listening to herself speaking about her photographs in the atelier of Borj al-Shamali, April 2007. Photograph by Simon Lourié. |
 Susan and Yasmine speaking about Susan’s new editing in the atelier of Borj al-Shamali, March 2007. Photograph by Simon Lourié. |
When I moved into the camp in 2006, I had been given a number of point and shoot cameras (µ-II) from Olympus Europe that I distributed to the group. At that time there were eight youths who had been coming regularly to the atelier. While the group was connected through the atelier, each member worked independently and retained complete control over the creative process of shooting pictures. When they had finished a roll they would return it to me to develop the pictures, and would then come to the atelier to edit and discuss their work with the others.
In setting up this studio our ultimate goal was not to produce a group of professionally trained photographers, but rather to encourage participants to develop the medium of photography as a tool for expression. We were also invested in the idea of creating a space where young people from the camp could learn to critically engage images, and the process of image making, and where individual artistic vision could be cultivated. The particular interests of each photographer soon became clear, and the process of looking at their contact sheets revealed which subjects they were drawn to. Through group discussions they were able to develop and refine their ideas further, continuing to explore new ways of approaching their subject.
After about six months each person had developed several projects, and we began to formally present and discuss each body of work. Some wondered why they needed to present their work: “You told us we were doing this for ourselves, so why must we share it with others now?” I was asked. These questions produced others: who should their “public” be? Their families, friends, or all the residents of Burj al-Shamali? Should they exhibit their work in other camps in Lebanon, in Beirut or outside Lebanon?
At first, all agreed that it was not necessary to show their work in the camp, as people were well aware of issues they were addressing, at least this was what they supposed. They would rather exhibit in Beirut to a Lebanese public to propose an alternative image to the negative one that became dominant during the civil war.. The other public they had imagined was Palestinians living in other camps in Lebanon. But when we then recalled a small photographic show that had been displayed in Martyr Square, Beirut, in April 2002, by a group of Lebanese and Palestinian activists, as a show of solidarity with Palestinians living in Occupied Palestinian Territories, the discussion took another turn. An activist in his thirties, and a resident of Borj al-Barajneh camp, complained that the photographs were misleading. He felt that instead of including photographs of laughing children, they should have foregrounded the iconic imagery of child martyrs to underscore the ongoing centrality of resistance in refugee identity. Since the group did not want to address these complex questions of representation, or take on the role of “ambassadors” it was decided that before taking the work outside the camp, they would put together a show in Burj al-Shamali. The aim was to confront the opinion of their community before sharing their work with a broader public.
 Posters announcing the exhibition at the Hangar in Dahiyeh, Beirut, Mai 2008. Photograph by Yasmine Eid-Sabbagh. |
 Yasser after hanging the exhibition at the Hangar in Dahiyeh, Beirut, Mai 2008. Photograph by Yasmine Eid-Sabbagh. |
 Nesreen after hanging the exhibition at the Hangar in Dahiyeh, Beirut, Mai 2008. Photograph by Yasmine Eid-Sabbagh. |
What emerged from these discussions was a realization that the photos the group felt comfortable exhibiting inside the camp were not the same as those they felt could be shown elsewhere. Susan, for example, didn’t want to exhibit the series of pictures she had taken of sofas and beds in the camp, but was happy to include images of doors and windows. She was concerned that other residents might criticize her for exposing the private space of people’s homes. Ali was scared to exhibit portrait photographs of people, but in the end sought permission from individual residents. Yasser was afraid of provoking criticism from local political factions by displaying his series on political posters: in the end he avoided potential clashes by including an equal number of images from each political party represented in the camp. The group chose to install the exhibition in the alleys of the camp, both as an innovative way of hanging the photographs, but also as a way of getting a large number of people to see the work. Although we had originally planned the exhibition for May 2007, the conflict in Nahr el-Bared camp meant that it had to be postponed.
Finally, five months later, in October 2007, we began to work on the exhibition. Announcements were posted all over the camp and flyers were distributed. We then drew arrows on the walls throughout the camp, designed to lead people to and through the open-air exhibit. On the evening before the opening, we met to coordinate the hanging of the photographs. Somewhat unexpectedly, many in the group appeared to be indifferent and without energy, and a number of them began to tell me why they would not be able to come to the opening the next day. Ali said he had to study for an exam, Yasser said he might have to work a little and Susan said she was not sure if her fiancé would allow her to come. That night I went to sleep sure that none of them would appear the next day. It was clear that they were anxious because they sensed what a big step it was to display their work, and to address – and even challenge ¬– their own community through it. In preparing the exhibition they had come to realize that showing work to people that one knows is often far more difficult than showing it to an unknown public.
The next morning all were late and hesitant. In the process of unpacking their photographs and mounting them, they started to concentrate and forgot their preoccupations. Surrounded by a group of twenty curious kids from the neighborhood, who were all eager to participate, they began to hang their photographs. They involved the kids, letting them cut tape, mix color, and help paint captions and arrows on the ground.
After five hours, at around one o’clock the exhibition was ready. We had invited everyone for two. Yasser and Ali said they wanted to go and pray, Fatmeh wanted to change, Ahmad had to pick up the sweets and bring the coffee and Susan was called by her cousin to come see her fiancé who had arrived. I found myself alone and remembered my feelings of the night before – once again convinced that they wouldn’t come back. But I was wrong: they all came back and stayed until the sunset. In the evening, no one wanted to go home and we stayed together and discussed the day. They were all proud of their achievement. Standing in front of their installation and recalling what people had said about the photographs, they concluded that it had been the right decision to organize the exhibition.
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Triptych, exhibition in Borj al-Shamali camp, October 2007.
Photographs by Yasmine Eid-Sabbagh
