The Harvest By Dalia Baassiri at Janine Rubeiz Gallery

Over the past three years, I have gathered various items: wall fragments from the Fayyad Building near the port of Beirut, burnt candles from prayers in Harissa, and broken tree branches cut for making charcoal for shisha smokers.

I see these items as different forms of “vulnerability.” They were stored in boxes until the seasons returned. Once they were ready, I spread them around my studio, listening to their stories after a long silence.

Through the process of assembling, these fragments fused into compositions that reveal their true nature, sometimes blending with other elements like chameleons.

Sometimes, they become one entity, an iconic presence on raw canvas—a mosaic of past stories woven into the present.

My journey has been long: from dust to ash, to soap suds, to discarded objects. I have always sought fragile things with important stories, which I use as the raw materials of my work.

Once found, I give them new life by embracing their delicacy and strengthening them with adhesives. This obsession leads me to ask questions like: Is vulnerability contagious? Do we become where we live? Does daily life in an unstable place like Lebanon make us more familiar with and drawn to broken pieces? Am I creating a self-portrait through these clusters of broken pieces, or is this desire to preserve and merge a way of adapting?

As I continue to search for answers, I want to thank Ashkal Alwan for the four-month residency at their new space in Mar Mikhael, where most of the artworks were created, and to Gaby Maamari for his helpful advice on preserving delicate materials.