The intersection of art and war has long been a site of tension, creativity, and resilience. For artists in Lebanon, the context of recurring conflicts shapes both the subjects of their work and their modes of expression, existence, and survival. War irrevocably alters geographies at the physical, emotional, and cultural levels. During the Israeli invasion of Lebanon in 2024, heavy destruction has profoundly affected the lives of people in the areas along the southern border, the Bekaa Valley, and Beirut with its southern suburbs.

In Southern Lebanon, landscapes are deeply inscribed with memories of conflict. Villages such as Odaisseh, Shebaa, Al-Ghajar,^[1] Blida and Yaroun^[2] – located near the Blue Line, the provisional border established by the UN in 2000 following the end of the 1982-2000 Israel's occupation of Lebanon – have been sites of conflict since the establishment of the state of Israel in 1948.^[3] Israel’s ground incursion along the southern border of Lebanon on October 1, 2024, has caused extensive property destruction, much of it attributed to deliberate demolitions as part of efforts to create a buffer zone.^[4] The ground offensive was preceded by a year of sustained shelling that targeted Lebanese villages and towns within a five-kilometer radius of the border.^[5] Despite the announcement of a ceasefire on November 27th, 2024, the significant damage to properties and the ongoing occupation in the border area continued to prevent internally displaced residents from returning home.^[6]

Villages close to the Blue Line embody the fragility and resilience of life in these contested spaces. For residents in Lebanon, particularly those in the South, war serves as a pivotal factor in shaping daily life. The Lebanese artist Oussama Baalbaki, who grew up between Beirut and Odaisseh (his father, and painter, Abdel Hamid Baalbaki’s hometown) during the Civil War, draws deeply from this context. Baalbaki’s artistic practice embodies the emotions and perspectives shaped by the “cyclical nature of war, deconstructing and reconstructing lifeworlds”.^[7]

Life in War

War in Lebanon, particularly in the southern borderlands, shapes both the physical landscape and the rhythms of daily existence. Experiences and memories of war are embedded in the sounds, smells, images, and social relations, that pervade throughout the exceptional state of destruction and across the daily ordinary activities and interplay between human and non-human actors. With the latter, the aim is to shed light on how the environment, including animals and plants, collaborates with humans to sustain life despite the pervasive threat of violence. For instance, describing the relationship between the inhabitants of the Lebanese-Israeli border villages and their inhabitants’ work in tobacco plantations, anthropologist Munira Khayyat, in her monograph Landscapes of War, challenges the notion of war as a rupture. While not naturalizing war, she complicates its image by revealing it as a ‘continuity’ that functions as a generative force which, while destructive, also fosters life’s adaptation.^[8] Planting tobacco permits residents of the border villages to live within violence, so much so that the people there express the feeling of living through the tobacco plant.^[9] Supporting this point, anthropologist Sami Hermez argues that war in Lebanon, even when not physically present, shapes social life by being embedded in discourses, fears, and expectations,^[10] becoming a structure that cyclically deconstructs and reconstructs lifeworlds.^[11] Thus, by expanding its effect and impact beyond its physical occurrence, war is not merely an exceptional event but rather an ambient framework within which ordinary activities, such as cultivating crops, shaping friendships, and creating art pieces, take place in tandem with war.

In countries like Lebanon, where war is a constant presence, it is impossible to separate art from the experiences of war. Art practice is one of the ordinary activities that in war is intertwined with or generated by feelings of loss, insecurity, disorientation, fear, and pain. These feelings shape the way artists process and represent their realities.^[12] Furthermore, war functions as a generative force in the sense that it produces new art tendencies, which can in turn affect and shape social narratives about war.^[13] War has been represented extensively through the centuries; however, it is worthy to note that the art created during these tumultuous periods, while not representing war, is still a product of war. It becomes a type of art that portrays seemingly ordinary realities while highlighting their exceptional nature through their persistence and existence despite harsh life conditions. For instance, the Guernica, 1937^[14] of Picasso became an internationally known representation of the violence exercised by the Nazis during the second World War. Alternatively, still life paintings, such as Still Life, 1943, by the Italian painter Giorgio Morandi, created in his studio throughout the war, convey a sense of quiet contemplation and inward focus, possibly as a response to global upheaval. Morandi’s art does not directly depict war, yet by being created within the context of war, it speaks to the artist's experience during that time—highlighting the need to preserve domestic intimacy.^[15]

Oussama Baalbaki and the Practice of Painting

Born in Beirut in 1978, Oussama Baalbaki is a Lebanese artist whose art explores human existence through the depiction of nature, objects, and buildings. He resides in a spacious apartment in Zoukak El Blat, Beirut, the walls of which are populated by landscape paintings created by either himself or his father, and the shelves are filled with books on artists such as Manet, Van Gogh, Giacometti, Rembrandt, and Freud. He was in this very apartment when Israel bombed a residential building next to his house on November 18, 2024, killing several people. Despite his apartment being located in a targeted area, Baalbaki chose to remain in his home throughout the war. He refused to leave his house and atelier, spaces he considers integral to his life and artistic practice. The atelier is the only place where Baalbaki paints, offering him a space where he can connect with himself undisturbed and allow memories to emerge. For Baalbaki, the atelier functions as a refuge from the social world.^[16]

During the war, Baalbaki’s routine was inevitably disrupted, yet he managed to continue painting. He depicted natural landscapes drawn from memories of Southern Lebanon, as well as the view of the city from his atelier’s window. Depicting natural and urban landscapes is a long-standing practice for Baalbaki. Colorful and contrasting skies, roads that wind through the mountains, shaky buildings, and a rich vegetation in shades of green and blue populate Baalbaki’s landscapes. According to the artist, the Lebanese landscape, with its distinctive features, diverse lines, and vibrant colors, embodies an “artistic spirit”.^[17] He views nature in Lebanon as a painting in itself, exuding “harmonious and musical resonance”.^[18] For Baalbaki, the practice of depicting landscapes transcends mere representation. Painting becomes an “abstract practice” wherein the creation of “harmonious lines and intense colors”, emanating from the depths of the self, reflects a “latent desire to converse with life and death, transience and eternity”.^[19] Thus, for Baalbaki, even his figurative works are intended to primarily create a certain aesthetic that evokes feelings and ignites the imagination.^[20]

The House in Odaisseh

One of the pictures on Baalbaki’s wall, Untitled, 2020, is a watercolor depiction of a house set amidst greenery. The two-floor house is enveloped in a dynamic play of various shades of green and blue. Blending small and elongated brushstrokes, Baalbaki captures the nuances of color in the surrounding vegetation. It portrays an old house in Odaisseh, located on the Lebanese border. Baalbaki has extensively depicted the village of Odaisseh, and in particular his family house’s natural surroundings. This house serves as a main inspiration for Baalbaki, for whom it opens the realm of childhood memories and sheds light on a time marked by migration and displacement. Without directly portraying it, these paintings capture the essence of the house, which was recently completely destroyed by Israeli forces in the ongoing war against Hezbollah.^[21]

The house in Odaisseh was the dream project of Abdel Hamid Baalbaki’s, father of Oussama Baalbaki. Born in Odaisseh, on the Lebanese-Palestinian border in 1940, Abdel Hamid experienced the transitional period when communication and trade were disrupted following the creation of the state of Israel in 1948. Due to the violence of the conflict in which Lebanon (along with other Arab countries) was engaged against Israel,^[22] Abdel Hamid’s family was forced to leave the area, relocating first to Taybeh and later to Nabatiyeh. While living between Beirut and Paris, Abdel Hamid dreamed of going back to Odaisseh and building a new house there. Drawing on Andalusian style architecture, the house was conceptualized and designed by Abdel Hamid himself.^[23] The project was realized in 1984, amidst the instability brought about by the Israeli occupation which began in 1982.^[24]

The house in Odaisseh, born out of a longing for cultural and territorial identity, is seen by Oussama Baalbaki as a symbol of resilience in the face of colonial displacement. Abdel Hamid created a space where life persisted and flourished despite the adversities. Six-year-old Oussama and his family moved into the house in 1984, when it was built, and stayed until 1989, after which they returned to Beirut. During these years in the South, Abdel Hamid introduced his son to working with natural materials such as clay and mud, instilling in him a profound connection to nature, which Oussama describes as his first school.^[25] Over the years, the house evolved into a family project, embodying a commitment to preserving and contributing to Lebanese culture. It was continuously improved and enriched, even after Abdel Hamid’s death. The house contained an extensive artistic library, rare books, artefacts, and valuable artworks, intended to serve as a cultural center for the region.^[26] Following the death of his wife in 2003, Abdel Amid became a permanent resident in Odaisseh until his passing in 2013. Both he and his wife were buried in the house’s garden.^[27]

The history of the Baalbaki house expresses the idea of war as a power of destruction and generation of lifeworlds. The recurrence of violence in Odaisseh has not only altered the geography of the land but also transformed the residents' relationship with their land and with each other. While the village undergoes erasure, human connections acquire additional significance. Memory emerges, fostering a need for persistence. Just as Abdel Amid returned to Odaisseh and built the house amid the Israeli occupation, residents of border villages attempted, after the announcement of ceasefire on 27 November 2024, to return to their houses despite the danger and the lack of basic facilities that would make these places livable.^[28] The Baalbaki house shaped the life of the family and created a framework in which Oussama and his siblings could develop a connection to their father’s place of origin. The recent destruction of the house permeates Oussama's relationship with his parents, evoking memories — such as his father teaching him about natural elements — which, in the absence of a physical connection like the house, acquire new meanings and play a pivotal role in his connection to his parents and Southern Lebanon.

The Ambiguous Presence of War in Baalbaki´s Art

“War has always been intertwined with our lives in this part of the world. In Lebanon, we anticipate war even during peace. For me, war was the catalyst for some of my thoughts about life and its fragility. Memories of war imbued my artistic work and poetic soul with a sense of melancholy and a pervasive nihilistic outlook.”^[29]

The landscape of Southern Lebanon in particular has been a significant influence on Oussama Baalbaki. During his time in Odaisseh, he studied the area’s natural light and discovered the vast variety of colors unique to the region. What continues to fascinate him is the distinctiveness of the landscape, where rich Mediterranean vegetation intertwines with the rocky, desert-like terrain.^[30] At the same time, Baalbaki’s depictions of nature carry the memories and emotional weight of a life shaped by war.

In some of his natural landscapes, Baalbaki evokes the human intrusion. His depictions of destruction – such as smashed cars abandoned in the countryside (e.g. Perished Car 1, 2010)^[31] – do not aim to document war but instead allude to human decadence. In these paintings, he contrasts human waste with an idyllic and rich nature.^[32] Other paintings may portray nothing more than a natural landscape; however, in these cases, war is present through the artist’s emotions, conveyed through the interplay of colors and the depiction of light.

Baalbaki despises ‘war talk’, a term he uses to refer to commentary, or exchange of political opinions and emotions that emerge in the context of war, and which contribute to creating a singular frame through which people understand the violent events they are living.^[33] He believes war should not be a topic on which to build an artistic career, and refuses to have his art “capitalize on the pain of people.”^[34] While his work includes political meanings, dark humor, and societal commentary, Baalbaki asserts that art is not reportage.^[35] For instance, one of the paintings Baalbaki, Untitled 1, 2024, created during the first week of the 2024 war depicts a natural landscape, where a large rock on the right side of the canvas takes the shape of a human face as a jet crosses the sky. The painting carries an intentional ambiguity: it might be read as an allusion to war, but it can also be seen as a broader reflection on humans’ defacement of nature. For Baalbaki, the rock shaped as a face symbolizes what nature in the South is witnessing. Depicting nature during wartime is his homage to his land. Baalbaki emphasizes that his paintings are not stories; rather, they are glimpses of his life – products of imagination born from the dialogue between his inner self and the outside world.^[36] This painting, therefore, is not about the war itself but about his experience of living through it.

Baalbaki’s relationship with the land, rather than being shaped through direct engagement with nature, is rooted in memories shaped by imagination, time, and emotions. Nonetheless, this connection is crystallized and maintained through the materiality of art. Through the physicality of the canvas, paint, and colors, Baalbaki conveys the terms of a different relationship with the disrupted land. Through this triangular connection between Baalbaki, art, and nature, life is upheld even amid the constant threat of violence. The act of sustaining life through art embodies persistence through the discovery and rearticulation of the aforementioned relationship.

The Generative Force of Loss

The experience of loss and destruction is a recurring reality that connects the generations of the Baalbaki family, as it does for many other families in Lebanon. As Baalbaki puts it: “[Loss] became part of the language of life. We go down, we lose balance, and we go back up. There has been no exit.”^[37] The house in Odaisseh no longer physically exists, and the area is now inaccessible. What remains for Baalbaki are his childhood memories, the lessons he learned from nature during his time there, and his paintings of the area – depictions that carry all the memories and affection he has for his family home. When a physical connection to the house in Odaisseh is no longer possible, Baalbaki’s practice of creating landscapes from memories succeeds in maintaining and nourishing an abstract yet vivid connection to his family home. For Baalbaki, the house in Odaisseh was, and remains, both a literal and symbolic anchor, reflecting the generational cycle of loss, reconstruction, and resilience.

Baalbaki’s artistic practice is an ordinary activity deeply shaped by his experience of life in war. Through his ongoing depictions of Lebanese nature, he sustains a connection with his homeland, one that embraces its transformations. By portraying the natural beauty of Lebanon, Baalbaki complicates the narrative of life in war, shedding light on the enduring realities that persist amidst destruction. Baalbaki’s painting of the face-shaped rock or his depiction of an apparently ordinary tree in Untitled 2, 2024, created during a time when the land and its nature are subjected to violence, can be interpreted as acts of resistance, embodying what Khayyat describes as “staying rooted through the thickness of adversity”.^[38]

Through the history of the Baalbaki family and the artistic practice of Oussama Baalbaki, this article attempts to propose an alternative lens for understanding the widely studied relationship between war and art. War brings destruction, forcing humans to adapt and reshape their daily lives; these human experiences constitute lifeworlds, where the persistence and adaptability of ordinary activities in changing and challenging conditions are perceived as resilience. Looking at war as a generative force, allows for an exploration of art not merely as a medium of representation but as a mode of expression that emerges from the adversity of destruction and actively contributes to the creation of life. This interpretative approach is not intended as a universal or general framework, but rather as one developed from the specific history of Oussama Baalbaki. His artistic practice, rooted in his early experiences in Southern Lebanon during the Israeli occupation, illustrates how art becomes an activity through which connection to the land remains felt and lived, and where it functions as a material embodiment of memories, experiences, and emotions. This perspective suggests that art in times of war is not only a means of expressing critique or commentary on sociopolitical events, but also a vessel for personal history and lived experience.

Edited by Boushra Batlouni

Bibliography

Baalbaki, Oussama. Shadows of Gloominess. Gallery Tanit - Beiruth, 2014. https://dafbeirut.org/contentFiles/file/2020/09/Oussama-Baalbaki-Shadows-of-Gloominess.pdf

Eshel, David. “The Israel-Lebanon Border Enigma.” IBRU Boundary and Security Bulletin 8, n.4 (2000-2001)

Fondazione Chiara e Francesco Carraro. “Giorgio Morandi Still-life.” Accessed January 10, 2025  https://www.fondazionecfc.org/en/work/morandi-still-life-1943

Hermez, Sami. “The War is Going to Ignite”: On the Anticipation of Violence in Lebanon.”PoLAR: Political and Legal Anthropology Review 35, no. 2 (2012): 327-344.

Hutchison, Margaret, and Emily Robertson. “Introduction: Art, War, and Truth – Images of Conflict.” Journal of War & Culture Studies 8, no. 2 (2015): 103–8.

Intersos. “Ceasefire in Lebanon: the difficult return of displaced people.” Accessed January 20, 2025. https://www.intersos.org/en/ceasefire-in-lebanon-the-difficult-return-of-displaced-people/

Khayyat, Munira. “Introduction: War, from the South.” In A Landscape of War: Ecologies of Resistance and Survival in South. University of California Press, 2022.

PabloPicasso. “Guernica, 1937 by Pablo Picasso.” Accessed January 10, 2025. https://www.pablopicasso.org/guernica.jsp

Reliefweb. “Thematic Report: Assessment of Damages in the South, December 2024.” Accessed January 3, 2025. https://reliefweb.int/report/lebanon/thematic-report-assessment-damages-south-december-2024

ReliefWeb. “Lebanon: Flash Update #55 - Escalation of hostilities in Lebanon, as of 16 January 2025.” Accessed January 20, 2025. https://reliefweb.int/report/lebanon/lebanon-flash-update-55-escalation-hostilities-lebanon-16-january-2025

Svašek, Maruška. “Forced Displacement, Suffering and the Aesthetics of Loss.” Open Arts Journal, no. 3 (2014):137-156

Notes

^[1] For further information on Al-Ghajar village, please visit: “Israel-Lebanon: What's happening at the Blue Line?,” Middle East Eye, https://www.middleeasteye.net/news/israel-lebanon-blue-line-what-happening#:~:text=In%202000%2C%20when%20Israeli%20forces,was%20considered%20part%20of%20Lebanon.

^[2] For further information on the villages of Blida and Yaroun, please visit: “A short history of the ancient Lebanese villages destroyed by Israel,” Middle East Eye, https://www.middleeasteye.net/news/short-history-ancient-lebanese-villages-destroyed-israel

^[3] David Eshel, “The Israel-Lebanon Border Enigma,” IBRU Boundary and Security Bulletin 8, n.4 (2000-2001)

^[4] “Thematic Report: Assessment of Damages in the South, December 2024,” Reliefweb, accessed January 3, 2025, https://reliefweb.int/report/lebanon/thematic-report-assessment-damages-south-december-2024

^[5] “Thematic Report: Assessment of Damages in the South, December 2024,” Reliefweb, accessed January 3, 2025, https://reliefweb.int/report/lebanon/thematic-report-assessment-damages-south-december-2024

^[6] “Thematic Report: Assessment of Damages in the South, December 2024,” Reliefweb, accessed January 3, 2025, https://reliefweb.int/report/lebanon/thematic-report-assessment-damages-south-december-2024

^[7] Munira Khayyat uses the term lifeworld to refer to a set of circumstances through which the world is experienced. Rather than a single and static dimension, the term refers to a multiplicity of dynamic time-shaped relationships. Munira Khayyat, “Introduction: War, from the South,” in A Landscape of War: Ecologies of Resistance and Survival in South (University of California Press, 2022), 13.

^[8] Munira Khayyat, “Introduction: War, from the South,” in A Landscape of War: Ecologies of Resistance and Survival in South (University of California Press, 2022).

^[9] Munira Khayyat, “Introduction: War, from the South,” in A Landscape of War: Ecologies of Resistance and Survival in South (University of California Press, 2022): 94

^[10] Sami Hermez,”“The War is Going to Ignite”: On the Anticipation of Violence in Lebanon,”PoLAR: Political and Legal Anthropology Review 35, no. 2 (2012): 327-344.

^[11] Read further in Khayyat, A Landscape of War: Ecologies of Resistance and Survival in Southern Lebanon and Hermez, “’The War is Going to Ignite’: On the Anticipation of Violence in Lebanon”.

^[12] Maruška Svašek, “Forced Displacement, Suffering and the Aesthetics of Loss,” Open Arts Journal, no. 3 (2014):137-156.

^[13] Margaret Hutchison and Emily Robertson, “Introduction: Art, War, and Truth – Images of Conflict.” Journal of War & Culture Studies 8, no. 2 (2015): 103–8.

^[14] “Guernica, 1937 by Pablo Picasso,” PabloPicasso, accessed January 10, 2025, https://www.pablopicasso.org/guernica.jsp

^[15] “Giorgio Morandi Still-life,” Fondazione Chiara e Francesco Carraro, accessed January 10, 2025  https://www.fondazionecfc.org/en/work/morandi-still-life-1943

^[16] Oussama Baalbaki, Author’s visit to Oussama Baalbaki’s home and studio, December 11, 2024.

^[17] Oussama Baalbaki, WhatsApp message to the author, December 26, 2024.

^[18] Oussama Baalbaki, WhatsApp message to the author, December 26, 2024.

^[19] Oussama Baalbaki, WhatsApp message to the author, December 26, 2024.

^[20] Oussama Baalbaki, Author’s visit to Oussama Baalbaki’s home and studio, December 11, 2024.

^[21] Oussama Baalbaki, WhatsApp message to the author, January 12, 2025.

^[22] David Eshel, “The Israel-Lebanon Border Enigma,” IBRU Boundary and Security Bulletin 8, n.4 (2000-2001)

^[23] Oussama Baalbaki, Zoom Interview by Wafa Roz and Maria Lunderskov, November 29, 2024. 

^[24] Oussama Baalbaki, Zoom Interview by Wafa Roz and Maria Lunderskov, November 29, 2024. 

^[25] Oussama Baalbaki, Zoom Interview by Wafa Roz and Maria Lunderskov, November 29, 2024. 

^[26] Oussama Baalbaki, WhatsApp message to the author, December 26, 2024.

^[27] Oussama Baalbaki, WhatsApp message to the author, January 4, 2025.

^[28] “Ceasefire in Lebanon: the difficult return of displaced people,” Intersos, accessed January 20, 2025, https://www.intersos.org/en/ceasefire-in-lebanon-the-difficult-return-of-displaced-people/

“Lebanon: Flash Update #55 - Escalation of hostilities in Lebanon, as of 16 January 2025,” ReliefWeb, accessed January 20, 2025, https://reliefweb.int/report/lebanon/lebanon-flash-update-55-escalation-hostilities-lebanon-16-january-2025

^[29] Oussama Baalbaki, WhatsApp message to the author, December 26, 2024.

^[30] Oussama Baalbaki, Author’s visit to Oussama Baalbaki’s home and studio, December 11, 2024.

^[31] Oussama Baalbaki, Shadows of Gloominess, (Gallery Tanit - Beiruth, 2014), https://dafbeirut.org/contentFiles/file/2020/09/Oussama-Baalbaki-Shadows-of-Gloominess.pdf

^[32] Oussama Baalbaki, Shadows of Gloominess, (Gallery Tanit - Beiruth, 2014), https://dafbeirut.org/contentFiles/file/2020/09/Oussama-Baalbaki-Shadows-of-Gloominess.pdf

^[33] Oussama Baalbaki, Author’s visit to Oussama Baalbaki’s home and studio, December 11, 2024.

^[34] Oussama Baalbaki, Author’s visit to Oussama Baalbaki’s home and studio, December 11, 2024.

^[35] Oussama Baalbaki, Author’s visit to Oussama Baalbaki’s home and studio, December 11, 2024.

^[36] Oussama Baalbaki, Author’s visit to Oussama Baalbaki’s home and studio, December 11, 2024.

^[37] Oussama Baalbaki, Zoom Interview by Wafa Roz and Maria Lunderskov, November 29, 2024.

^[38] Munira Khayyat, “Introduction: War, from the South,” in A Landscape of War: Ecologies of Resistance and Survival in South (University of California Press, 2022), 34.