Farah Awada lives and works in Beirut, Lebanon, working across photography, video, sound, and printmaking. Her practice explores questions of control, memory, and manipulation, with an interest in what happens when control is given up, shared, or interrupted. She works through experimentation, allowing chance, material, place, and other people to shape the process and the outcome. Her work often moves between personal experience and collective memory, exploring how images, sounds, and experiences are documented, transformed, and remembered.
www.behance.net/farahawada1
www.instagram.com/caesuraeffect
Sour, between the waves
Tyre is where I return to for the sea — a need closer to instinct than preference, weekend after weekend, the same stretch of sand, the same water. These photographs, shot on black-and-white film, are what the lens sees: a fisherman crossing the frame, strangers half-submerged, an ordinary afternoon held still. What the photographs don’t say is that each of these days has carried a drone overhead and, often, explosions nearby — the number changing, but always increasing, week after week. For me, this is one day a week. For people living in the south, it’s every day.
“Parallel” is usually imagined as two lines running side by side, never touching. I don’t believe that split exists. What I feel — what so many of us feel — is confusion: holding the calm and the alarm in the same body, at the same time, without being able to fully separate them or fully merge them either. It’s disorienting.
Is accepting that we exist in two realities at once, itself a way of surviving inside that state?
Alongside the photographs, a short sound recording — accessible by QR code — offers what the images leave out.