Lebanon’s former beauty queen throws wedding party amid ban
Updated 04 August 2020
Bassam Zaazaa
BEIRUT: Amid a Cabinet-imposed lockdown to prevent the coronavirus spreading, Miss Lebanon 2015 Valerie Abou Chacra held her marriage party on Saturday despite wedding bans.
Abou Chacra, an actress, married Lebanese businessman Ziyad Ammar in an open-space wedding in Bkerke during which Maronite Patriarch Cardinal Mar Bechara Boutros Al-Rai led the nuptials.
The ceremony was followed by a wedding gala held for family and friends — flouting the nationwide lockdown.
Following a surge in coronavirus cases, the Cabinet decided on the lockdown with strict regulations imposed by the health and interior ministries, so Lebanese were taken aback when photos and videos of Chacra’s wedding party surfaced on social media.
People took to social media to criticize the former beauty queen whom they accused, along with her husband, of being socially irresponsible for violating the ban.
Meanwhile, other social media figures and users praised the “fancy and stylish” wedding.
Social media users censured the authorities for allowing Abou Chacra to carry on with her wedding celebration.
The weekend witnessed a flurry of media statements from different ministries about allowing some prescheduled wedding parties to go ahead within strict social distancing and protective measures.
In a televised interview with LBCI, Health Minister Dr. Hamad Hassan said that he had granted permission to seven wedding functions.
“We have to adapt and live the joys and sorrows, but with certain procedures,” he said.
However, the minister warned that in the case of any breach of procedures, the Interior Ministry would reconsider the exception.
Arab News contacted a Health Ministry official, who could not confirm whether Abou Chacra’s wedding was on the list of the seven exemptions.
The exemptions were granted to a specific number of weddings granted they met certain regulations, the official said.
“Part of the regulations were that the party be held outdoors, social distancing be respected and the number of invitees must be limited in accordance to the venue’s seating and accommodation,” he told Arab News.
Meanwhile, Interior Minister Brig. Gen. Mohammad Fahmi’s media office released a statement confirming that social gatherings (including weddings) were strictly banned within the lockdown period.
Consequently, any permission granted from any authority would be withheld and strict measures taken against those violating regulations, the statement read.
TV presenter Youmna Sherry tweeted that law enforcement officers stopped Abou Chacra’s wedding, however this could not be independently confirmed.
Sherry tweeted that what happened to Abou Chacra during her wedding celebration was wrong as she deserved all the best.
REVIEW: ‘Dept. Q’ — Netflix’s cold-case thriller is fun but flawed
Updated 05 June 2025
Adam Grundey
DUBAI: Netflix’s latest police-procedural is set in Scotland, but based on the novels of Danish writer Jussi Adler-Olsen.
At its heart is detective Carl Morck (Matthew Goode). Morck is one of those cops; you know, great at his job but terrible with people, emotionally stunted, arrogant, divorced, et cetera. Morck and his partner — and best (only?) friend — James Hardy (Jamie Sives) are shot and wounded in a seemingly routine visit to a crime scene, leaving Hardy paralyzed and the junior officer who arrived first at the scene dead. Morck returns to work to discover that his boss has assigned him to head up a new department (established at the behest of her superiors) looking into cold cases — a good excuse to get the troublesome Morck out of the main office and into a dingy basement room where he can’t easily bother anyone.
He’s assigned some assistance: Akram (Alexej Manvelov) — a Syrian refugee who’s ostensibly an IT boffin, but, it quickly becomes clear, is also a very handy detective with some serious combat skills; Rose (Leah Byrne), an eager and capable cadet struggling with her mental health after a fatal accident at work; and, eventually, Hardy.
Their first case is the disappearance and presumed death of prosecutor Merritt Lingard four years previously. The last person to see her alive was her brother William, but he’s unable to communicate having suffered brain damage as a teen. The case’s many tangents lead off into conspiracies, organized crime and more. The truth of it, though, is considerably more prosaic.
The good news: “Dept. Q” — as you’d expect with Netflix money behind it — looks great, with a gritty, noir-ish feel. There’s a genuine chemistry between the members of the titular department, and it has an absorbing mix of dark humor and sometimes-horrifying violence. Sives, Manvelov, and Byrne, in particular, are compelling draws. Goode offers a largely convincing portrayal of a not-very-nice man attempting to become slightly nicer. It’s enjoyable and easy to binge.
But one suspects that “enjoyable and easy to binge” wasn’t the limit of the showrunners’ ambitions, and “Dept. Q” certainly shows the potential to be more than that. It’s let down, however, by some horribly clunky storylines, not least the relationship between Morck and his assigned therapist Rachel (a wasted Kelly Macdonald), which appears to have been lifted from a discarded rom-com pitch. And many will likely find that the ultimate solution to the case stretches credulity well beyond their limits.
Still, it’s clearly set up for a second season (and possibly many more), and there’s enough promise here to believe that “Dept. Q” will find its feet and become a must-see — rather than a maybe-see — show.
Highlights from the Venice Biennale of Architecture
Following our in-depth coverage of this year’s Saudi and Qatar entries, here are three more must-see pavilions at this year’s biennale
Updated 05 June 2025
Iain Akerman
Following our in-depth coverage of this year’s Saudi and Qatar entries, here are three more must-see pavilions at this year’s biennale.
Bahrain
“Heatwave” presents a meaningful and practical response to the climate crisis.
At first glance, Bahrain’s pavilion isn’t much to look at. A modest modular structure consisting of a raised platform, a suspended ceiling, and a central column, it lacks the artistic clout of other pavilions. And yet, this passive cooling installation designed for public spaces was awarded the Golden Lion for best national participation.
“Heatwave” presents a meaningful and practical response to the climate crisis. By reimagining traditional Bahraini cooling systems, such as wind towers and shaded courtyards, it provides an innovative response to rising temperatures. The pavilion’s design integrates a geothermal well that draws in cool air from below the surface, paired with a solar chimney that releases warm air upwards. Together, these elements form what the designers describe as a “thermo-hygrometric axis,” a system that maintains a mild, regulated indoor climate.
In the exhibition space, where excavation for a geothermal well was not feasible, the system relies on mechanical ventilation, drawing air through a canal-facing window and guiding it through a network of ducts and nozzles to create a controlled microclimate. Importantly, it is designed to be scalable and adaptable to a wide range of environments.
Commissioned by Shaikh Khalifa bin Ahmed Al-Khalifa, president of the Bahrain Authority for Culture and Antiquities, and curated by architect Andrea Faraguna, the pavilion functions as a full-scale, inhabitable prototype. Aimed primarily at meeting the challenges faced by construction workers in the Gulf, the pavilion’s design was developed in collaboration with structural engineer Mario Monotti and thermomechanical expert Alexander Puzrin.
Britain
British Pavilion - Detail from PART's 'Objects of Repair.' (Courtesy of the British Council)
“I call this pavilion a reverse case because it also makes a statement against British colonial rule,” says Yara Sharif, one of the co-founders of the Palestine Regeneration Team (PART). “After all, they were the ones who initiated the exploitation of Palestinian resources. So having a platform within the British Pavilion is, in itself, a statement — a reverse case that says, ‘We are also here to occupy you.’ It’s also a way to challenge the mental occupation; the idea of portraying Palestinians as passive subjects.”
PART’s “Objects of Repair” is a small but vitally important component within the British pavilion’s “Geology of Britannic Repair,” a UK-Kenya collaboration that seeks to expose and rework the entangled legacies of architecture and colonization. In a series of installations, the exhibition proposes earth-bound solutions that resist extractive practices and respond to climate, social, and political upheaval. The British Pavilion received a special mention for national participation.
At the core of PART’s installation, created by Sharif, Nasser Golzari, and Murray Fraser, lies the Travelling Lab, a project inspired by Gazans’ reappropriation of rubble to create new architectural ‘skins.’
“The whole idea behind the Travelling Lab is that it continues to develop and evolve as it moves,” explains Sharif, who is also a co-founder of Architects for Gaza. “We call it a way to cultivate hope, but also to create a matrix of possibilities that may suggest new scenarios and aesthetics to challenge the ones we’re familiar with. The aim of the pavilion is not to create a beautiful object; it’s to provoke a collision, spark discussion, and to draw attention to a context that is continually being rendered invisible.”
Uzbekistan
“A Matter of Radiance,” the Uzbekistan pavilion’s exhibition. (Supplied)
One of the first things you see when entering the Uzbekistan National Pavilion is a heliostat – a mirror system designed to track the sun and reflect its light onto a fixed point. Beyond it lie a control room table, a monumental glass chandelier created by Irena Lipene, and a giant solar screen. All belong to — or are reconstructions of those found at — the Sun Institute of Material Science in Tashkent, one of the city’s Soviet-era modernist structures.
The landmark building, originally known as the Sun Heliocomplex, is the inspiration behind “A Matter of Radiance,” the pavilion’s exhibition. Curated by GRACE studio’s Ekaterina Golovatyuk and Giacomo Cantoni, the exhibition explores the scientific and cultural relevance of the Heliocomplex. In particular, its potential as an international scientific hub.
“This was a catalyst building for its time,” says Gayane Umerova, chairperson of the Uzbekistan Art and Culture Development Foundation, who commissioned the exhibition. “The architecture was profound. The designers were given remarkable freedom, and I think it’s important for us to not only celebrate it, but also preserve it.”
Opened near Tashkent in 1987, the Heliocomplex is one of only two major solar furnaces in the world designed to study how materials behave under extreme temperatures. It is also one of 24 key modernist sites spread across the capital, 21 of which have been granted national heritage status.
“It’s important for us to show that this is not just a monolith,” says Umerova of the Heliocomplex, which is currently being used for civilian scientific research. “It’s an art object, in a way, but it’s a living structure.”
The southwestern city may be one of the Kingdom’s fastest-growing, but its appeal is timeless
Updated 05 June 2025
ROBERT BOCIAGA
JEDDAH: A dry wind carries the first sign: a curl of frankincense smoke, sharp and sweet, drifting over the desert flats. It seeps through windows, clings to clothes, lingers on skin. Najran once sat at the center of the incense trade, and the scent still clings to its streets like a memory too deep to wash away.
In Najran’s Old City, sun-drenched alleys wind between mud-brick towers etched with delicate patterns. The buildings lean into one another like elders sharing secrets, their thick walls cool to the touch, smelling faintly of clay and ash.
At the edge of town lies Al-Ukhdood — ancient ruins unfolding in silence, trenches cut through centuries, and soot-darkened stones bearing the scars of fire. There’s no ticket booth, no crowd, just wind brushing across fractured stone. This is where an infamous massacre once unfolded, a horror alluded to in the Qur’an. Now, goats graze nearby, and a boy scrolls through his phone against a wall that has seen empires rise and fall. Here, history doesn’t sleep, it hums softly beneath your feet.
Further into town, the Thursday Market erupts like a drumbeat. The solemnity of the past gives way to present-day vibrance. Silver jambiya daggers flash from stalls, sticky dates glisten under the sun, and fabric bolts in electric blues and deep saffron flutter in the breeze. A vendor hands you a tiny ceramic cup filled with qishr (ginger coffee), fiery and fragrant. Its scent coils in your nose, the first sip stings your tongue, and a strange warmth begins to gather in your chest — a jolt from another time.
Al-Aan Palace in Najran. (Getty Images)
Past the market, Al-Aan Palace rises above the palm groves. Its mud towers glow gold in the late light like a dream from another age. Climbing its narrow staircase, your breath shortens. At the rooftop, it stops altogether. Below, date farms stretch like green lace. Beyond, the Tuwaiq Escarpment flames red in the sinking sun. There is awe, and there is quiet.
The road south of Najran curves, shimmering, into the desert. Follow it to Bir Hima, and you’ll find 7,000-year-old carvings on basalt boulders — hunters, animals, stories too old for language — and drink thick tea under the sun, sweet and dense as syrup, and imagine those long-ago artists tracing their lives into stone.
To explore Wadi Najran, you can rent a bicycle. At first it rolls smoothly through scrub and stone, but then the asphalt ends and sand takes over. The wadi unfolds — vast, veined cliffs shimmer in the light. A shepherd leads his goats past, his voice rising briefly on the wind. The heat is heavy, the bike grows cumbersome, but the land invites you not to conquer it, only to notice.
Prehistoric petroglyphs and inscriptions of Bir Hima. (Getty Images)
Evening comes with a slow hush. The air smells of dust and dry leaves. In the distance, the sky purples, gold slips behind the horizon. Najran lingers not just in your memory, but in your senses. The sting of ginger, the hush of carved stone, the smoke of incense soaked into your shirt. This is not a city you visit. It’s one you carry.
And as night folds in, Najran reveals another layer. The souk’s date stalls, clay homes, and impromptu chai shops reveal not just trade but trust. You’re offered water without price, tea without expectation. A stranger gestures toward his car and home — unstaged, authentic hospitality. In one such home, beneath a full moon and garden perfumed by local incense, a conversation turns to life’s simplicity, peace, and the lies we often believe until we travel. There are no tours or tickets for this part of Najran.
Spend a few days. Let the place press gently into you. Wander the alleys, share the tea, smell the smoke, and listen. You’ll understand why Najran is not simply visited — it’s remembered.
RIYADH: The Saudi Cultural Development Fund (CDF) is showcasing traditional handicrafts from the Kingdom at luxury department store Selfridges in London from June 3-22.
The initiative is taking place during Saudi Arabia’s Year of Handicrafts and is in collaboration with British charity organization Turquoise Mountain, which works to support the production of traditional crafts around the world.
The collection celebrates diverse Saudi artisans and features intricate palm crafts, delicate jewelry and accessories, and fine leatherwork, with an emphasis on showcasing the differences between various regional styles in Saudi Arabia.
Themed around Saudi Arabia’s natural and architectural heritage, the activation highlights work crafted from locally sourced, sustainable materials, reimagined through a contemporary creative lens.
The showcase is being held alongside an exhibition of fashion designs, supported by the Saudi Fashion Commission.
A key milestone in the CDF’s efforts to support the Kingdom’s cultural sector is the recent launch of the Nama’ Accelerators: Handicrafts Track — a dedicated solution that supports cultural businesses through specialized training, mentorship, and financial incentives.
Artist Massoud Hayoun’s London exhibition ‘Stateless’ explores identity, exile
Updated 04 June 2025
Hams Saleh
DUBAI: Los Angeles-based artist and author Massoud Hayoun has spent his career exploring identity, exile and resistance.
His latest exhibition, “Stateless,” running at London’s Larkin Durey art gallery until June 27, is an exploration of control, culture and community.
His paintings are imbued with the legacy of his Egyptian and Tunisian Jewish heritage. (Supplied)
Raised by his grandparents, Hayoun paints their stories of exile, love and resilience in shades of blue, blending personal narratives with icons of Arab cinema and song to highlight shared cultural memories.
His paintings are imbued with the legacy of his Egyptian and Tunisian Jewish heritage, but they also reach beyond his own family’s history. His grandfather left Egypt, and his mother was born without citizenship — experiences that deeply inform his work.
In “Stateless,” he extends this exploration of displacement and belonging to other communities, particularly Palestinians and undocumented Americans, he told Arab News. “In this show, you’ll find people suspended between homeland and refuge, suspended in mid-air, suspended between life and death and living out a sort of existentialist heroism, suspended in undying romance,” he said.
Hayoun’s journey to painting was shaped by his background in journalism. (Supplied)
Hayoun’s journey to painting was shaped by his background in journalism. A former journalist, he is also the author of “When We Were Arabs,” a book on Arab identity that won an Arab American Book Award and was named a National Public Radio best book of the year in 2019.
His transition from writing to painting was a natural evolution. “I am a figurative painter — I paint people. My journalism was animated by a love of people and a desire to better understand, through interviews like this, people from walks of life drastically different to my own,” he said.
His use of blue is deliberate. Initially reserved for people who had died, the color now engulfs all his subjects, evoking the transient nature of identity and existence. “At first, I only painted my grandparents and other dead people in shades of blue, because to my mind, the glow of it seemed ghostly. I cast other people in different colors to signify other states of being. Eventually, after reflections on time, everyone became blue, even myself,” he said.
The artist's use of blue is deliberate. Initially reserved for people who had died, the color now engulfs all his subjects. (Supplied)
Yet, at its core, Hayoun’s work is about more than politics — it is about love. “These works touch on sweeping political, philosophical and sociological issues, but they are fundamentally about love for people,” he said.
“They are meant in the way my grandparents expressed anxiety as a kind of love—fear for my well-being, fervent hopes that I live well and in dignity. These paintings are explosions of love,” he added.
