from lundimatin #530, 25/08/2026
To put an end to images? To put an end to words?
To put an end to representations, all representation, all testimony?
Or should I say more precisely: to put an end to “our” words, “our” images, “our” representations, “our” testimonies? To leave to the powers that be, governments, and other levers of domination of all kinds, all screens, every format, every scale, every distribution channel, to give them all the space, niches included, so that their sweet talking patter, their propaganda, and their all-out lobbying can spread unhindered across their channels, their platforms, their front pages, their apps, their globalisation, so that they can occupy every surface. To leave them to their boundless blindness.
Let us stop producing images. Let us stop playing on their terrain.
Sounds, on the other hand, let us seize them, keep them, propagate them, so that they escape, so that they elude them. So that they maybe nothing more than endless cries, howls, everywhere, from everywhere, so that they may be blood that flows and courses through the veins of this damned earth.
Ghassan Salhab
Painting and title of a recent, stunning exhibition in Beirut by Samir Khaddaj
Ghassan Salhab: And the world falls
from lundimatin #530, 25/08/2026
To put an end to images? To put an end to words?
To put an end to representations, all representation, all testimony?
Or should I say more precisely: to put an end to “our” words, “our” images, “our” representations, “our” testimonies? To leave to the powers that be, governments, and other levers of domination of all kinds, all screens, every format, every scale, every distribution channel, to give them all the space, niches included, so that their sweet talking patter, their propaganda, and their all-out lobbying can spread unhindered across their channels, their platforms, their front pages, their apps, their globalisation, so that they can occupy every surface. To leave them to their boundless blindness.
Let us stop producing images. Let us stop playing on their terrain.
Sounds, on the other hand, let us seize them, keep them, propagate them, so that they escape, so that they elude them. So that they maybe nothing more than endless cries, howls, everywhere, from everywhere, so that they may be blood that flows and courses through the veins of this damned earth.
Ghassan Salhab
Painting and title of a recent, stunning exhibition in Beirut by Samir Khaddaj