ROY DIB

I believed that by changing the mediums I usually work with, I might discover different perspectives and new processes for grappling with my experiences. I still have many doubts, but I’m trying.

Sound has been a constant presence, particularly in recent months. When you aren’t the direct target of death, the sounds of aggression become overwhelming. They say, “When you hear the sound of the rocket, it means it didn’t kill you.” But for those of us who survived police bullets during the uprising, the port explosion, and Israeli attacks, how do we live with “Sound Terrorism”?

Traces is an exhibition devoid of sound—a silent experience. In the centre of the room, in dialogue with Michelangelo Pistoletto’s renowned “Cubic Metre of Infinity,” I present a reverse piece titled “Solitude in a Time of Catastrophe.” It invites you into a safe cube, where silence and mirrors reflect everything approaching you.

Surrounding the cube, the walls capture the Traces of a recent BDSM (bondage and discipline, dominance and submission, and sadomasochism) sexual act, where victims of catastrophe reclaim agency over their bodies. This concept of agency allows individuals to make choices about their bodies and assert control over their experiences, rather than feeling like passive victims. BDSM involves power exchange, with partners negotiating dominance and submission, transforming vulnerability into strength. Engaging in consensual BDSM activities is a manifestation of rejecting the external imposition of control over our bodies.

In parallel, I showcase diptychs from the Jidar series.

Do you recall the times we heard explosions and waited for the second one, reassuring each other, “Jidar, it’s only a break of the sound barrier”? Each diptych translates those sounds into images, capturing the champs and contre-champs that measure the physical space between the two sources of danger.

In this silent room, amid the traces of spaces, feelings, and desires, you roam, and your bodies reflected in the mirrors fill in for the missing bodies that have left the artworks.

By the end of this exhibition, I cynically propose a shield to protect Beirut and its inhabitants— The Shield of Beirut.

Text by Roy Dib. Courtesy Galerie Tanit, Beirut/Munich