Esteban Gonzalez, courtesy of the artist
في لبنان، يحظر قانون العقوبات "العلاقات المخالفة للطبيعة،" وهو المصطلح الذي يستخدم لوصف وتجريم العلاقات المثلية. إن ضبط رجل بزي نسائي قد يجعله عرضة لمشاكل لا يستهان بها، ويرجح أن يستخدم ذلك كدليل ضده للجزم بتوجهه الجنسي، علماً أن ارتداء الرجل لملابس الجنس الآخر لا يتعلق حصراً بالمثلية الجنسية. وتتعدد قصص التوقيف المرعبة للمثليين والمتحولين جنسيا (وغالباً ما تقع المغالطة بحيث ينظر إلى هاتين الفئتين على أنهما فئة واحدة) اللذين كانوا عرضة للتعذيب والذل والإهانات أثناء الإحتجاز، وذلك بحسب المنظمات غير الحكومية المحلية والدولية التي تعمل بشكل مكثف على توثيق مخالفات إساءة استعمال السلطة. ويعطي ذلك تصوراً للمعاملة المشينة التي قد تواجهها ملكة العروض إذا ما تم القبض عليها في لبنان
Tanya Traboulsi, courtesy of the artist
Thoom, 2017
Mohamad abdouni, courtesy of the artist
The hairspray in the air was intoxicating and the neon colors were blinding. An iPhone, perched atop a stack of bright make-up, blasted out Assala and Nawal El Zoghbi as loudly as it could manage. Getting ready in front of the mirror sat Anya Kneez and Evita Kedavra, one petite and the other robust. Our conversations were interrupted by bursts of “Honey, do you have extra lashes?” and “Where the fuck is my lip gloss?” This could’ve been any regular Saturday night in the back room of a club (turned drag queen’s dressing room) had this not taken place in the Middle East, in a club somewhere just outside of Beirut. In a society so often patriarchal and conservative, where masculinity is revered, the concept of men dressing up as women for kicks is not only foreign, but can prove dangerous.
Esteban Gonzalez, courtesy of the artist
“We had now been in that dressing room for two hours and I knew there were at least two more to go before they would be ready for their fifteen-minute performance on stage. “I like the attention” exclaims Evita when I ask them why they do what they do. “I love dressing up and having all eyes on me. I get this indescribable feeling when I’m on stage, it’s a beautiful high.”
And we soaked ourselves in the tacit spirits of remembrance - all that was - all that was shaken from our hands and uplifted from our roots. We danced like mad children under the nakedness of the sun, bearing her sweetest tastes in an effort to console our fears, distilled in shadows of past, in harmonies of remembrance.And we ate from the forbidden fruit, passing tastes like birds watering their nests, feeding their young - leaving traces of our footsteps. Burdened, in an effort to remain chaste, we fell out of love and succumbed to the torrents of spring, feeding in the exhausted passions of the exalted - mercenaries of the night.And we traded day for night, hiding behind the currency of chance. In the drunkenness of our states we swallowed the valleys before us - gorging at the offering, leaving nothing behind.
- Dani Arbid
Matis Dovier, courtesy of the artist
“We had now been in that dressing room for two hours and I knew there were at least two more to go before they would be ready for their fifteen-minute performance on stage. “I like the attention” exclaims Evita when I ask them why they do what they do. “I love dressing up and having all eyes on me. I get this indescribable feeling when I’m on stage, it’s a beautiful high.”
And we soaked ourselves in the tacit spirits of remembrance - all that was - all that was shaken from our hands and uplifted from our roots. We danced like mad children under the nakedness of the sun, bearing her sweetest tastes in an effort to console our fears, distilled in shadows of past, in harmonies of remembrance.And we ate from the forbidden fruit, passing tastes like birds watering their nests, feeding their young - leaving traces of our footsteps. Burdened, in an effort to remain chaste, we fell out of love and succumbed to the torrents of spring, feeding in the exhausted passions of the exalted - mercenaries of the night.And we traded day for night, hiding behind the currency of chance. In the drunkenness of our states we swallowed the valleys before us - gorging at the offering, leaving nothing behind.
- Dani Arbid
Cvmeae Halim, courtesy of the artist
Safia Bahmed Schwartz, 2017
Melchior Tersen, courtesy of the artist
Matis Dovier, courtesy of the artist
And we soaked ourselves in the tacit spirits of remembrance - all that was - all that was shaken from our hands and uplifted from our roots. We danced like mad children under the nakedness of the sun, bearing her sweetest tastes in an effort to console our fears, distilled in shadows of past, in harmonies of remembrance.And we ate from the forbidden fruit, passing tastes like birds watering their nests, feeding their young - leaving traces of our footsteps. Burdened, in an effort to remain chaste, we fell out of love and succumbed to the torrents of spring, feeding in the exhausted passions of the exalted - mercenaries of the night.And we traded day for night, hiding behind the currency of chance. In the drunkenness of our states we swallowed the valleys before us - gorging at the offering, leaving nothing behind.
- Dani Arbid
Cvmeae Halim, courtesy of the artist
Safia Bahmed Schwartz, 2017
Melchior Tersen, courtesy of the artist
Sandra Cami is a first-generation Vietnamese American designer. She is currently a principal designer at SQSP Studio in Montréal.
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Image of Willie Ray, Istanbul 2019 Ali Murat Gali, courtesy of the artist.
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