Zoukak Sidewalks - The Festival is a platform for artistic exchange and a space for intercultural reflection that takes place every two years at Zoukak Studio and various venues in Beirut, bringing together international and local artists and practitioners from different backgrounds and disciplines through theatre, music and dance performances, film screenings, public conversations, masterclasses and presentations of works in progress. Two editions of the festival have taken place in 2016 and 2018. During the devastating Beirut Port explosion in August 2020, the festivals' headquarters Zoukak Studios was damaged and the festival could not take place. Already two years later, in 2022, Zoukak managed to organise the ressuraction of the festival in a city devastated by economic collapse, political instability, and the COVID-19 pandemic.
Hyperinflation: Lebanon’s economic collaps made basic necessities like electricity and refrigeration unaffordable for many.
Post-explosion trauma: The 2020 Beirut explosion destroyed years of work and caused widespread trauma and sense of hopelessness.
Cultural life disruption: Multiple years of festival cancellations disturbed the cultural landscape of the city. This led to doubts about the relevance and possibility of events like festivals.
Increased violence: Beirut's streets became increasingly unsafe, with rising incidents of theft and threats.
Health risks: A cholera outbreak parallel to the privatization of drinking water.
Artistic censorship: The necessity to apply for censorship on artistic works harmed creative expression.
LGBTQI+ rights threatened: Events related to LGBTQ+ themes were systematically targeted by authorities and right-wing groups, posing risks for participants and organizers alike.
Promoting local talent: The 2022 festival shifted from an international focus to focusing on local artists from multiple generations, creating a platform for emerging voices alongside established ones.
Commemorative approach: The festival’s poster listed the names of participants like on a memorial panel which aimed to symbolize the resilience and continuity of Beirut’s cultural community.
Embracing satire: Satirical performances were used as a means of coping with trauma, allowing the community to process their experiences through humor and irony (comic relief).
Balancing sensitivity with integrity: The festival also curated performances that addressed the harsh realities of life in Beirut but tried to make sure that they resonated ethically with the audience.
Defying censorship: By choosing not to apply for censorship, the festival took a stand for artistic freedom, being aware of the potential consequences this could have.
In post-crisis settings (see explosion), festivals can serve as vital spaces for collective healing and resilience.
Organizing a festival in a conflict zone asks for a delicate balance between acknowledging the community’s trauma and providing sensitive content.
Empowering local artists, especially those who have lived through the crisis, ensures that the narratives presented are authentic and resonate with the community. It also helps in sustaining the cultural ecosystem in challenging times.
Long read: Omar Abi Azar (Co-Artistic Director and Theatre Maker): Gathering the rubble - About Festivalmaking and Integrity
Exerpt from panel discussion during the Atelier in Beirut 2022.
Reading time: 2 minutes.
"After the explosion and the inflation, years of work were blown away in three minutes. None of us on the team wanted to do anything anymore. We couldn't find a reason. Why should I do a festival nowadays in Beirut? Why, when there are a lot of people who can't even afford electricity? I don't know if you understand what it is to not afford electricity. It also means not being able to afford a refrigerator. We don't always see it from that perspective, but many houses in my neighborhood, for example, can't afford a refrigerator, so they can't store food, meaning they also can't afford food. This is how bad the situation is.
So what does it mean to make a festival? How can I pull myself out with integrity? How can we pull ourselves out of that black hole, which means depression and post-traumatic stress that everybody suffered from in Beirut? Deciding to do a festival that was once an international theater festival meant inviting big names from European and American theater and trying to place them next to trendy names from Lebanon. Doing a festival where funders and the audience would be happy because they would have the impression of watching important artists—we couldn't do that anymore. Something about the integrity wasn't there. We couldn't do something that would make us feel like normality was back because nothing normal is back. When I speak about a sense of normality during this years edition, that means trying to be normal but acknowledging that nothing is fine - but at least, we are here together.
This year, in order to motivate ourselves, we asked what do we want? What do I want? What do I do after an explosion?
Usually, I gather my body parts. After an explosion, I gather the rubble of my house and try to see what's left. For us, this year's festival, which is a purely local edition, includes artists who were present in the past decades and the younger generation. We wanted to see what kind of bodies the cultural scene has today in Beirut. If you look at our poster, we insisted on putting the names on the poster like a memorial, like the names of the missing, or like the attendees who are still here. It's a body, the body of the theater scene, the music scene, etc.
In a period like the one we are living in, there is nothing to think about anymore; only our bodies are present. To have integrity in our way of thinking, a festival, a performance, a gathering has to start with a sense of meaning, putting bodies in the same room, putting plays in the same festival, and seeing what happens. We're waiting until the end of next week to see what happens with the festival and what it means, and if there was integrity in it."