Beirut has plenty of it--history-heavy houses, paint that bears the signs of it's age, wood that has had time's magic applied in quantity. Love is always a complicated thing, certainly this isn't any different. I grew up in a world with an entirely different kind of decay, a totally different history. The decay of my childhood isn't beautiful to me, I don't love it and I don't praise it. I don't go looking for it when I visit my old home. American decay speaks of failure, of lost dreams and broken spirits. I'm tempted to say that it is provably uglier, but I know better.
And I don't mourn when American decay is torn down--unless it's a really remarkable structure. I'm glad to see it go.
Beirut's peculiar decay has it's own stories to tell. These old houses indicate failures and losses and damage too. But these aren't my stories.
I reckon there is a 60 year mark here in Australia. If a building lasts that long there is good chance its qualities will be admired and it will live a long life. Younger than that fashion dictates that it has become simply undated, untidy and ugly so should be knocked down.
ReplyDeleteThis is a simply beautiful photo ... has a storybook quality.
Looks like there are a few bullet marks there too...?
ReplyDeleteQuite a bit of food for thought here. Decay and desolation take on the flavor of their culture and surroundings. You are certainly capturing Beirut's flavor quite beautifully. While back in the US in September I saw some abandoned, deteriorating places that spoke volumes about broken dreams, and not at all the same feel as ruins here in France. A fascinating subject...
I love all the pictures of the old houses you post :)
ReplyDeleteThanks Al! Good luck with your life in 5" heels. :)
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