PARIS: US Dutch Palestinian supermodel Gigi Hadid and Kendall Jenner rode horses, Moroccan Egyptian Dutch star Imaan Hammam hit the runway alongside French Algerian icon Farida Khelfa and Venus and Serena Williams and Katy Perry modeled on the cobbles. This was Paris’s Place Vendome as never seen before.
On International Olympic Day, Vogue World took over the last day of Paris Fashion Week’s menswear collections with a show-cum-spectacle themed around the Olympics, with Saudi influencer Nojoud Al-Rumaihi in the well-heeled audience.
Saudi influencer Nojoud Al-Rumaihi attended the show in Paris. (Getty Images)
The rare event blended athleticism, French fashion, and pure, unadulterated razzmatazz from the past century — marking 100 years since the last Games in Paris in 1924. The event also referred back to June 23, 1894, the day on which the founder of the modern Olympics, French nobleman Pierre de Coubertin, launched the International Olympic Committee.
Matching different sports to different eras and styles, the high-octane collection extravaganza felt like a polished Broadway musical — with amazing clothes — as the sun set on Paris’ magnificent Place Vendome.
Dancers on the runway during Vogue World: Paris at Place Vendome on June 23, 2024. (Getty Images)
For the third Vogue World event, following a New York street fair in 2022 and a tribute to London’s theater scene in 2023, the show dovetailed with the Paris Games — celebrating all things French and runway. Fashion designs were showcased to a backdrop of tap dancing, pirouetting waiters, and even models clutching baguettes.
Tracing a century, each decade was paired with a designer and style era. The ‘20s was cycling and featured white coats by designers such as Chanel and Schiaparelli. The ’30s was “track and field” by Balenciaga. The ‘40s, the era that gave the bikini to the world, featured “aquatics” by Jacquemus. The ’50s brought “equestrian” styles shown through the prism of the decade-defining New Look by Dior. The ‘60s was Courreges’ fencing looks.
Models walk the runway during Vogue World: Paris at Place Vendome on June 23, 2024. (Getty Images)
By the time the ’70s came up with choreographed Givenchy-fueled “gymnastics,” some journalists had completely forgotten to keep taking notes, caught up in the intoxicating sight of the choreographed spectacle on the picturesque plaza, whose star-filled front row, including Pharrell Williams, rivaled even the stars that trod the runway.
Vogue World took place in Paris at Place Vendome. (Getty Images)
The ‘80s focused on martial arts and the ’90s on soccer, with a reinterpretation of late Tunisian icon Azzedine Alaia's tricolor dress. Cheers rose when the Williams sisters appeared for the “tennis” section, Venus in a bold figure-hugging mermaid dress and Serena warrior-like in a black, utilitarian split gown.
The finale featured breakdancing. The atmosphere was electric, serving as an unofficial kickoff for the Paris Games, which will run from July 26 to Aug. 11.
Netflix’s ‘Havoc’ is a high-octane thrill ride, thanks to Tom Hardy
The ‘Venom’ star goes full-on beast mode in Gareth Evans’ action thriller
Updated 13 sec ago
Matt Ross
LONDON: In an interview ahead of the release of “Havoc”, writer-director Gareth Evans described the film’s star Tom Hardy as being in “beast mode” during shooting.
That’s actually the perfect logline for this high-octane, hyper-violent action film from the director of “The Raid” and its equally entertaining sequel. Because while there’s definitely some kind of plot nestled underneath the spectacular fight choreography and impressive gunplay — i.e. Hardy is the slightly corrupt grizzled New York homicide detective Pat Walker, who must dodge even more corrupt New York cops as he attempts to track down the son of a mayoral candidate who is a suspect in a triad shooting — “Havoc” is, essentially, Tom Hardy blasting, punching and body slamming anyone who gets in his way.
And, for the most part, that makes for a pretty entertaining ride. As Walker’s run-ins with gangsters, hired guns and dodgy politicians get increasingly violent, Evans gives him an array of interesting and inventive ways through which to dole out his specific brand of street-level justice. Much like “The Raid,” this gives us an opportunity to marvel at a director who remains at the top of the action-movie game. Few people — if any — do high-concept fight scenes quite as well as Evans.
Where “Havoc” feels a little light is in the pauses between those breathtaking set pieces. With a cast headed by Hardy and also boasting Forest Whitaker and Timothy Olyphant, there’s some serious dramatic talent on offer, but there’s little character development beyond who’s good, who’s bad, and who’s somewhere in the middle.
There’s a host of supporting characters — Yeo Yann Yann’s gang matriarch Mother in particular — who all look like they have fascinating backstories, but all we learn about them is that most can fight really, really well, and all have plenty to scowl about. What’s more, a few heavy-handed bouts of CGI undermine the movie’s mostly gritty realism, and leave audiences desperate to skip the calmer moments and get on to the next shootout.
However, to be fair to this movie, Tom Hardy in beast mode is undeniably great — and in our virtually limitless streaming landscape, anything great deserves to be celebrated.
A story of stone: How Jabal Al-Qarah shapes the soul of Hofuf
‘The mountain holds everything,’ says local historian
Updated 5 min 37 sec ago
ROBERT BOCIAGA
DAMMAM: Near Hofuf, at the edge of Al-Ahsa Oasis, where the palms thin out and the desert hushes before turning to stone, Jabal Al-Qarah rises. Low and wide, its sculpted sandstone flanks have been worn into curves and fissures.
I first saw the mountain just after dawn as the road, having coiled gently through date groves and irrigation canals, veers toward the open plain. In the distance, the mountain appeared — not dramatically, but deliberately. A long, earthen body stretching across the landscape, its folds catching light like the surface of an old parchment.
“This is not a mountain in the European sense,” local historian Salman Al-Habib told me, his hand resting on the stone. “It’s not for conquest. It’s for shelter. For memory. It held the lives of our grandparents — sometimes literally.”
Inside the caves. (Getty Images)
He was referring to the caves that run deep into the heart of Jabal Al-Qarah. Stepping inside one, you feel the temperature drop immediately. It’s very still, and the acoustics are strange. Sounds stretch and settle. “
They say Judas Iscariot wandered in and was never seen again,” Al-Habib said. “Others say a goddess lived here. The mountain listens. It holds everything.”
The caves have served a multitude of purposes: storing grain, sheltering travelers, even childbirth. The temperature, remarkably constant year-round, made the mountain a natural refuge.
“Before fans or air conditioning, this was how we survived,” said Al-Habib. “We didn’t fight the climate — we listened to the land.”
Geologist Dr. Layla Al-Shemmari echoed that sentiment. “The mountain is formed of calcareous sandstone and marl, deposited millions of years ago,” she explained. “Its structure naturally insulates, naturally ventilates. The people mirrored that in their homes — thick-walled, inward-facing, mudbrick construction pulled straight from the land.”
She ran her hand along the cave wall, where moisture clung faintly even in the dry season. “The stone taught us architecture. It taught us how to live without taking too much.”
But perhaps the most unexpected moment came just outside the caves, at dusk. A minaret stood in the shadow of the mountain, its golden tiles catching the final light. Behind it, the rock face glowed a soft amber, every crack and crevice thrown into relief, like a thousand sleeping figures stacked into one colossal wall. The call to prayer began, and something uncanny happened: the rock didn’t reflect the sound — it held it. The echo lingered, cradled by stone.
“When I was young,” Al-Habib said quietly, “I believed the mountain was repeating the prayer. That it wanted to join in.”
A mosque near Jabal Al-Qarah. (Getty)
UNESCO’s 2018 recognition of the Al-Ahsa Oasis — of which Jabal Al-Qarah is a vital part — has brought conservation efforts and guided tours. But many locals say the real work is remembering. Not preserving the mountain like a fossil, but allowing it to continue what it has always done: listening, absorbing, reminding, providing.
“If these rocks could speak, they wouldn’t lecture,” Al-Habib said. “They’d ask us why we stopped listening.”
And maybe that’s what the mountain is doing: waiting, patiently, for silence to return, so that its stories, etched into sandstone and shade, might be heard again.
Paul Weller, Primal Scream and Annie Mac back Kneecap amid political backlash over pro-Palestine message
Updated 01 May 2025
Arab News
DUBAI: English singer Paul Weller, Scottish rock band Primal Scream and Irish host and DJ Annie Mac voiced their support this week for Irish rap group Kneecap, who recently came under fire for displaying a “Free Palestine” message during their performance at the Coachella festival in the US.
The artists joined over 40 others in signing an open letter organized by Kneecap’s record label, Heavenly Recordings, which condemns what it describes as a deliberate attempt to suppress the group’s voice and remove them from public platforms.
The backlash against Kneecap intensified after videos from past performances resurfaced — one from a November 2023 concert in London that appeared to show a member expressing support for Hamas and Hezbollah, and another in which a group member is seen shouting: “The only good Tory is a dead Tory. Kill your local MP.”
British politician Kemi Badenoch, who has served as Leader of the Opposition and Leader of the Conservative Party since November 2024, has since called for legal action to be taken against the group.
Meanwhile, Glastonbury Festival is facing calls to withdraw Kneecap from its upcoming lineup, and several scheduled performances, including one at the Eden Project in Cornwall, have been cancelled.
In an open letter, Kneecap’s label, Heavenly Recordings, claimed the group was facing a deliberate and coordinated effort to silence them and remove their presence from the music scene.
The letter reads: “As artists, we feel the need to register our opposition to any political repression of artistic freedom.”
“In a democracy, no political figures or political parties should have the right to dictate who does and does not play at music festivals or gigs that will be enjoyed by thousands of people.”
“Kneecap are not the story. Gaza is the story. Genocide is the story,” it says. “And the silence, acquiescence and support of those crimes against humanity by the elected British Government is the real story.”
“Solidarity with all artists with the moral courage to speak out against Israeli war crimes, and the ongoing persecution and slaughter of the Palestinian people,” the letter added.
Syrian artists explore themes of forgiveness in Damascus exhibition
‘The Path’ is a group show that curator Marwan Tayara says is ‘about healing’
Updated 01 May 2025
ROBERT BOCIAGA
DAMASCUS: In a city battered by years of conflict, a quiet revolution was unfolding earlier this month inside an unfinished concrete shell.
“The Path,” a two-week exhibition curated by the Madad Art Foundation and staged in the once-abandoned skeletal Massar Rose Building in Damascus, confronted Syria’s pain, but, curator Marwan Tayara stressed: “This is not about politics. It’s about healing.”
Tayara — who co-founded Madad alongside the late Buthayna Ali, a fine arts professor whose vision of a show on forgiveness inspired “The Path” — continued: “For us, the artist is a patriot. The bakery feeds the body, and art feeds the soul. The soldier fights for his country, and so does the artist — but with ideas, with beauty.”
Lamia Saida pictured with her installation 'To Memory, Once More.' (Robert Bociaga)
Ali, who died in September, had envisioned a show that would offer something softer than some of Madad’s previous exhibitions around topics including war and disaster. “She wanted to make an exhibition about forgiveness but never had the chance,” artist Rala Tarabishi told Arab News. “We decided to do it as a gift for her — and for Syria.”
Even the venue was part of the show’s message. “This is a construction site,” said Tayara. “It’s symbolic. Syria is unfinished. But we’re building. Art has to be part of that process — not just rebuilding walls, but rebuilding identity.”
Tarabishi’s installation, “Embed,” was a forest of resin swords frozen mid-fall, through which visitors could walk. “When I embed my sword into the earth during a fight, I’m putting an end to it — in the most peaceful way,” she said. But none of the swords in “Embed” had yet reached that point. “The closer the sword is to the ground, the closer I am to forgetting, or forgiving,” Tarabishi explained. “Some things are harder to let go of.”
Visitors to 'The Path' in front of Dalaa Jalanbo’s 'Accumulation.' (Robert Bociaga)
For viewers, she hoped, it would be “as if the swords are memories or people who caused them pain. I wanted them to lean more into forgiveness, so they could live a more peaceful life.”
But for Tarabishi, forgiveness is anything but simple. “It’s very hard. Some things feel too big for us to truly forgive, so we just coexist with our pain instead.”
Eyad Dayoub’s installation, “Crossing,” was equally visceral. Suspended black and red wires hung like fishing nets. “Each level represents a period in Syria — full of darkness and blood,” Dayoub said. “The material looks like something that traps fish. I feel like I’ve been hunted by my country. I’m stuck — I can’t leave it, and I can’t love it either.”
Detail from Rala Tarabishi's 'Embed' installation on display at 'The Path.' (Robert Bociaga)
Creating the piece was part-therapy, part-confrontation. “Our dreams were lost. But I’m trying to find love again between me and my country,” he continued, adding that some visitors wept when he explained the symbolism of the piece. “People are ready to feel again. After war, we became numb. But I see us becoming sensitive again.”
If Dayoub’s wires evoked entrapment, Judi Chakhachirou’s work addressed instability. Her installation featured a trembling platform — a metaphor for emotional imbalance. “When someone hasn’t forgiven you — or you haven’t forgiven them — you feel unstable. You don’t know what’s wrong, but you’re not OK,” she said.
Her piece was a message to the living: “Take your chances now. Don’t leave people in your life hurt. Forgive — or at least try. Because one day, it’ll be too late.”
Rala Tarabishi in front of her installation 'Embed.' (Robert Bociaga)
The war has buried so much in silence, she added, that emotions — even tears — feel like progress. “Some people cried when they saw it. Others said it made them feel calm, like they finally understood what was bothering them,” she said. “I hope my next work will be more hopeful.”
For Mariam Al-Fawal, forgiveness is less emotional and more philosophical. Her interactive installation, “A Delicate Balance,” draws on Karl Popper’s formulation of the paradox of tolerance. Visitors can rearrange its colored puzzle pieces on wooden stands to construct a final, diverse pattern.
“If you tolerate all ideologies — including the intolerant — you destroy tolerance itself,” Al-Fawal explained. “Without exclusion, there can be no true inclusion. To see the full picture, you have to flip the pieces, adjust them. That’s how people work too. You can’t have one color, one shape; you have to embrace difference.”
Mariam Al-Fawal with her interactive installation 'A Delicate Balance.' (Robert Bociaga)
Al-Fawal’s puzzle asks viewers to build balance. “People interacted with it differently,” she said, “But most walked away with a shifted perspective. That’s why I made it interactive: the process carries the message.”
Lamia Saida contributed “To Memory, Once More,” which consisted of a set of blood-red, burned and shredded canvases suspended like raw meat.
“I thought if I wanted to express these memories visually, it had to be meat,” she explained. “That’s what they feel like. That’s why they hang. That’s why they bleed.”
Massar Rose Building in Damascus, Syria. (Robert Bociaga)
Syria’s trauma, for Saida, is not abstract —it is textured, fleshy, and inescapable. And yet, through art, it is manageable. “Art is more than therapy,” she continued. “When I make something honest, I feel like I forgive people. I find stability.”
Her final painting is a single, steady line. “It’s the calm I reached after expressing everything else,” she said.
More than 400 visitors visited the exhibition daily, according to the organizers. Some brought questions. Some brought grief. Others brought quiet. “Even political officials came,” Tayara said. “Not to control. Just to understand.”
What started as a tribute to a beloved teacher has become a mirror for the country. “All Syrians have this memory of grief,” said Tarabishi. “Whether from war or daily life — it’s what binds us.”
Madad hopes to bring “The Path” to other cities too.
“We believe in the power of art,” said Tayara. “It won’t rebuild Syria alone. But it might rebuild the spirit. That’s where everything begins.”
Marvel’s misfit superheroes find community in ‘Thunderbolts*’
Stars Florence Pugh and David Harbour discuss the latest Marvel movie
Updated 01 May 2025
Shyama Krishna Kumar
DUBAI: In the latest Marvel Cinematic Universe movie “Thunderbolts*,” directed by Jake Schreier, the focus isn’t just on larger-than-life action; it’s on the messy, complicated relationships between a team of misfits learning to trust each other.
For stars David Harbour and Florence Pugh, that emotional core was the most important part of the process.
“For me, most of the preparation was about really fleshing out these character arcs,” Harbour, who plays Soviet super soldier Red Guardian, told Arab News. “This movie sinks or swims not on its IP, but on its really complex relationships between these characters that you don’t know that much about. Our job was to infuse it with a lot of heart, humor, life and soul.”
Pugh — who made her MCU debut in 2021’s “Black Widow” as the trained assassin Yelena Belova and is now headlining her first MCU movie — echoed that sentiment.
“There was so much heart and pain already there,” she said. “When you’re playing large characters, you have to find ways to make it feel authentic, especially when you’re dealing with accents or heavy dialogue. A lot of our rehearsal process was about finding cleaner ways to get to the point — rewriting a few lines, making sure the characters said exactly what they needed to say to one another.”
Florence Pugh and director Jake Schreier on set. (Supplied)
The cast spent two weeks in rehearsals, crafting scenes that highlighted the tangled emotions between their characters. “It was great fun, especially when you have a director who really wants you to be fully involved and make it your own,” Pugh said.
The film follows a motley crew of anti-heroes — Yelena, Red Guardian, Bucky Barnes (Sebastian Stan), John Walker (Wyatt Russell), Taskmaster (Olga Kurylenko), Robert “Bob” Reynolds (Lewis Pullman), and Ghost (Hannah John-Kamen) — who must embark on a dangerous mission that will force them to confront the darkest corners of their pasts as they take down a common enemy.
Beyond individual dynamics, the movie taps into deeper themes of isolation and the need for connection — what Harbour describes as the “epidemic of loneliness” in the modern world.
“When these characters first come together, there’s a lot of lying about how they’re doing, a lot of pretending,” Harbour said. “People are afraid. They’re isolated. We feel connected because of these devices we carry, but they don’t really provide the sustenance we need as human beings.”
Pugh elaborated on that point. “We’ve reached a point where so many people have so many insecurities, and they feel like they’re not right, and they feel like they’re not getting it right, and (what they see on social media) is making them feel like their life isn’t as beautiful or as colorful or as perfect as those posts,” she said. “And I think when we watch characters that have these immense flaws also trying to figure it out, it helps. Of course it helps.”
Harbour believes the film captures the essence of personal salvation: finding strength in community.
(From left) David Harbour, Hannah John-Kamen, Wyatt Russell and Florence Pugh in 'Thunderbolts'. (Supplied)
“I worry about that phrase ‘We have to save ourselves,’ because I actually think it’s that we have to save each other,” he said. “We have to not sit there alone going, like, ‘I gotta do something.’ I feel like that’s the anxiety that’s killing us. The vulnerability of, like, ‘Maybe I ask someone,’ or ‘I find a group of people who are willing to take me as I am and to see the good in me.’ That’s one of the most beautiful moments in this movie.”
Schreier, director of the acclaimed 2023 comedy-drama series “Beef,” said Marvel president Kevin Fiege encouraged him to take a different approach to this particular superhero story.
“One of the real lessons of ‘Beef’ was that stories about something that feels smaller, or about emptiness, are no longer niche. They are actually universal. I think everyone goes through some version of that at some point in their lives, maybe to different degrees. But it isn’t small to tell a story like that. And so, this was a chance — on the biggest level — to see if a story like that could resonate at scale. That felt like a really wonderful opportunity.”
