We are much more than we are told

We are much more than we are told

Alexandre Paulikevitch – Photos Courtesy of Patrick Baz

“Social and political (inter)action are inherently symbolic and performative, and thus inherently aesthetic and affective. It is impossible to move large masses of people into the streets and convince them to risk everything for the slim chance of changing their future for the better without having a powerful cultural and artistic component to convey the messages in the most affective — that is, emotionally effective — manner possible” (Mark LeVine, “When Art is the Weapon”).

Art has always been at the heart of resistance and revolutionary movements whether by questioning state oppression, calling out corruption, healing traumas, or promoting social justice and human rights. While it is impossible to categorize all praxes, let alone in 21st century Lebanon, it is nevertheless important to recognize the many ways in which art has been used as a non-violent weapon of mass deconstruction and reconstruction, helping individuals and communities rebuild themselves and their societies. 

One of these ways is that of Lebanese contemporary baladi dancer and activist Alexandre Paulikevitch via his December 2020 powerful show at the Saint-Joseph Crypt (Beirut). “Aaleyhom” by Paulikevitch is indeed an example of mesmerizing dance performances that follow the audience days, months and years after their “happening”. How can one forget the agonizing humming, the banging on a wooden box, the wing-like and dervish rotation movements, the gas mask, and the power of every inch of a body that tells a story of conscious endurance of pain and of liberation?

Paulikevitch’s soul sang the harsh reality of many Lebanese, and their hope for a better future. Every muscle in his body moved to exorcise the demons of violated flesh and land. Every maneuver, every gesture echoed kaleidoscopic emotions. He succeeded in capturing the frailty that crouches behind stereotypes of “force” and systems of power that are “always deciding in the name of humanity who deserves [to live], to be remembered, and who deserves to be forgotten” (Eduardo Gaelano, Children of the Days). 

Indeed, with Aaleyhom, it is obvious that Paulikevitch sees the message just as important as the medium. And this message relays both the suffering of people, their resistance against historical amnesia that belittles human experience and erases the complexities of our lives, and their eventual triumph against oppression. 

The last scene of Paulikevitch’s show, stomping on our collective coffin, is a display of transcendence that comes from both remembering and fighting against remembering. It unveils the human fight to be anchored and catapulted, and to be able to pick up the thousand shattered pieces of his spirit.

“We are much more than we are told. We are much more beautiful”, say Galeano with words and Paulikevitch with motion, sounds, light and shadows. We are not simply victims, nor do we want to become collateral damage. We speak out for justice, we dream big dreams, and each of our stories is the story of a common humanity worthy of dignity and respect.

By Dr. Pamela Chrabieh
Scholar, Visual Artist, Activist
Nabad Program Manager