From a distance, you can see this, and from a distance you hear stiletto heels, squeaky new leather shoes, old worn out sneaker soles, and air-sole cushioned sandals approaching the bottom of the staircase, taking one step at a time, heading towards the sliding doors. Behind these doors, is the destination all these different foot-wear carrying the people that wear them are headed to; these people of different generations, with different faiths, with different fates and different destinations in life. For now, they are all headed towards one place, and that place is Zena el-Khalil's art exhibit entitled "i love you". You hear them in a combined effort of mixing different languages just to ask one another "i love you, here?", you hear them in linguistics state to one another, "i love you, here". But if only they knew that they would soon be barefoot, already naked in professing love to one another, they will soon all be barefoot, because at the end of the gallery is a sacred ground, with a handwritten sign asking them to "please remove your shoes".

But let's start from the beginning; let's go back because it all begins with a place we all know as home, a country torn by blind hatred, and stitched back together with threads of love, stitched back together by a woman who documents the 30 year long Lebanese civil war. By a woman who turned 30 not so long ago.

Enter gray walls, coated in pink. Yes, PINK! You are shocked, you are sickened, you are strangely comforted, and slightly confused. What were you expecting in your stiletto heels? What were you expecting in your worn out sneaker soles? Plastic plates you would use to feed yourselves, your children, and family tabbouleh, or hamburgers in, all transformed into frames for black and white fading photocopies of photographs. The subjects are faces that have long been forgotten, and even now hardly recognizable.

The same faces that made our history what it is, the nameless, faces that have suffered far more than the blisters you might already have from climbing the staircase to the gallery. And these faces are hardly easy to digest; maybe more so than your traditional dish, or foreign meat patty, these are faces that exude agony, they are calling out for one last plea for help. Walk along; take a turn around the corner, where you'll find frames with pink feather contours, and glitter patterns. You'll find skinny militia boys bordering on manhood with smiles through Xerox photocopies, in times when Kalashnikovs were mothers and lovers.

When guns were toys, and love meant war.

A few steps further and you come across miniature wooden boxes, like the cubes you got on your 8th birthday for building block purposes, except that these cubes are mounted on by religious figures, both responsible for death, and for the hope of a better place after a fatal gun shot wound.

And here come the saints, marie jo, mary ellis, mary sue and marie therese. As we progress through our "i love you" tour, we see that they have left their shrines from only a few steps ago and are now mounted on wooden cubes.

Plastic faces vacantly peering through veils, 4 meters long running down the walls, mounted high above you. These are the dolls, strategically placed like the pink toy soldiers all around the gallery. You continue towards a wall with three epic masterpieces of woodwork, pink satin, fairy lights, mesh butterflies and religious figurines. The subjects of these installations still breathe, with the timed flickering of the fairy lights. The pink satin, the pink tissue paper, the almost organic build containing them appears as human flesh, surrounding them, giving life to them once more. Zena injects life in her special subjects, those close to her faith and heart. Sayyid Mousa al Sadr sitting with a smile drawn up on his face between two separate faiths, the Christian and the Druze. The Virgin Mary outlined in thick lines of pink acrylic with her hands placed in prayer position, with "Allah" centered. The third installation piece with three children from the Palestinian camps, with Barbie dolls hanging like prostitutes fighting the glistening fairy lights bouncing off their plastic skin.

Following are framed images varying between old buildings, some the artist having took herself, and others of the same subjects used in previous works. Zena spends hours photocopying those images she uses in her work, trusting the texture results of the photocopying machine to guide her with her work. "I spent eight hours one day photocopying certain images which I tend to use as much as possible, it makes me feel closer to the subjects", she says.

Next come four mixed media on wood pieces each entitled after the first names of women who have left and continue to leave an impact on the artist's life. A favorite at the exhibit, these works are the infamous Arab kohl eyes of females peaking out, distinguishingly expressive behind their multicolored African print veils covered in glitter and sequence.

Following this is a series of paintings Zena would like to continue based on the art of the occult tarot card readings. "A lot of artists including Salvador Dali, have designed their own tarot cards. In making my own deck, I feel closer to them. The images range from my personal visual vocabulary, with henna and arabesque designs manifested in pink", seven down sixty-five more to go!

And when you think you're done, you remember the black draped room you saved for last. The one you probably peered into earlier, but didn't quite willingly enter. It's time to go, it's time to say your condolences, it is time to fully grasp the feeling of living in Dahyeh/Aley/Jounieh no matter what religious background you come from. It's time to feel at ease and return to your mother's womb.

A handwritten sign asks you to "please remove your shoes", you may hesitate or you may not. You do it anyway, and take a step in. "Some people are afraid to go in, but one way or another the installation will come to you", says Zena, who built this sacred memorial ground within her exhibit as her first major installation unrestricted by space. She entitles it "love is all you need" and explains in her own words: "this installation has it's roots in the riots that occurred this year in Arab countries, due to the cartoon in Danish newspapers depicting the Prophet Mohammad. I began to think about the imagery in religion and how delicate the process is in the visual interpretation of faith, God, absolution etc. For inspiration, I turned to, what is in my opinion, the most beautiful sculpture ever created; Michelangelo's Pieta".

Zena continues to explain the relationship between woman and man, sister and brother, mother and son all rooted to religious figures and their teachings, in her own words, and in her installation. The ground is covered in pink satin sheets; you take your first steps and hear the sound of bubble wrap bursting like Kalashnikov guns, or Eid celebration firecrackers underneath your feet. Walls suggesting family life and in Zena's words "my family always appears in my work, as I build my space, I am more involved when my family are involved. My family are my roots, as is Beirut".

The installation space is warm and inviting, but if you sit in there long enough you might just lose your mind. You might just get overwhelmed. Ziad Rahbani's compositions playing in the background to the figure of Mary holding a baby Jesus center stage, Zena el-Khalil style. Soft pink human-sized figures hanging from the walls, lifeless and dismantled but adorned in jewelry and party hats. Assemblage in boxes ranging from men worshiped as God, to women worshiped just as that, and as the artist states "it is no longer about right and wrong". Provocative, and controversial, yet not the artist's purpose, these iconic boxes are all so pretty, and ever so delicately prepared. Icons in boxes, living a full life as only icons do, and Zena is celebrating this for each and every one of us.

Hanging from the ceiling is an "Allah" disco ball, no negative connotations made but merely a source of light, with mirrors flickering light on all the objects in the room, including your face as you stand there taking it all in.

You leave, but you're not gone. You're never "gone" when you've interacted with Zena el-Khalil, and her work. You have left your mark as every person that walked into the installation piece has done. You have left your mark on Zena who would like to emphasize this by telling you that "In short I love you. I love each and every one of you".

"i love you", will continue to exhibit till May 27th at Espace SD, this is an exhibit that should not be missed. An experience that is only a start for Zena el-Khalil, and a process she will hopefully include us in during her future exhibits.

"Garden of Eden," Assemblage in boxes, 26x23cm, 2006

"Boys With Toys II," Mixed media on canvas board, 30x25cm, 2006

"Shopping For Terrorism," Mixed media on wood, 25x25cm, 2006

"Children Of War I," Mixed media on wood, 5x5cm, 2006

"Crying Teta," Mixed media on wood, 25x25cm, 2006

"My Guys with Pink Beads," Mixed media on wood, 25x25cm, 2006

"Boys And Their Toys I," Mixed media on canvas board, 30x25cm, 2006

"Rose Red," Assemblage in boxes, 26x23cm, 2006

"American Dreams," Mixed media on wood, 25x25cm, 2006

"Screaming In Sodeco," mixed media on wood, 25x25cm, 2006

Exhibit Details

Title: "i love you"

Place: L'Espace SD, Gemmayze, Beirut, Lebanon
S. Dagher Building, off Ave Charles Helou, opening hours: 3-8pm (mon-sat),
tel: +961 1 56 31 14

Exhibit dates: May 5- 27th, 2006

Artist Statement by Zena el-Khalil

I was born in war.

Everything around me now is war.

War has always been.

I cannot remember a time when there was no war.

If it wasn't on TV, it was in my soul. It was in my ears on Sunday nights when we used to call Teta in Beirut… across the Sahara, my ears picked up the crackling of the telephone line, the apprehension in the voices, the sporadic interruptions of white noise. It was under my skin as I watched hungry African eyes stare at me in mystification as I rode to school in my air-conditioned car. It was in my tears, when I was rejected by the high school blond at the high school dance in the European country I was in. It was in my heart when I came to my native land and watched it repeat it's same mistakes, over and over again.

In the beginning I was creating so that people would remember. But now, I have to be honest with myself; I am caught up in existential unrest and I find myself creating these images and forms because I cannot physically do anything else. It is no longer about right and wrong. It is not an intellectual debate. It is a creative offering I make to help maintain balance and order in the world around me. Our beliefs create the reality we experience; and only one's own personal experience offers the ultimate criterion for truth. Because truth is beauty, every form of creative invention is evidence that a person is spiritually alive. It is a valid human experience; a true moment, a word, a sound, an act, a sculpture- all the process of being alive; all the affirmation of existence. All spiritual. All holy. Every act we do or word we utter, we are absolutely responsible for. We are absolutely responsible for being alive. We are absolutely responsible for our lives, because we just are. I am and I am grateful for, only being, a fragment in the cosmos of things... the great unbendable universe.

The deeper I look into myself, the more I find that I am connected to something much greater. And this comforts me... knowing that everything I feel or make is a catalyst in someone else's mind. And the more I let go to experience these beliefs, the closer I become to you. We are one, without being numerical.

By painting and sculpting these images, I am fighting for life. I am fighting for your life. I am fighting for my life.