Sunday, November 20, 2011


at Nawfal Palace - Trablus ElTall

All events start at 5 PM onwards.
This year's season is dedicated to the late artist Mario Saba
two thousand eleven
NOV.25 A book signing of Fetish Systems by Raafat Majzoub and the release of issue one of ThePurple Haut-Parleur by +236m3

NOV.26 A book signing of Khabaya El Rouh by Roula Azzi

DEC. 02 An art exhibition by Friends of Tripoli Railway Station of artwork done by children at the event of the commemoration of the centenary of the station. 

DEC.03 'Idle Remains', a musical gig by Liliane Chlela

DEC.09 A calligraphic illustration exhibition by Syed Tajammol Hussein titled 'Words of Gold'

DEC.16 'Folk Without a Cause' a musical gig by Kristen Hope and The Incompetents

two thousand twelve
JAN.07 A photography exhibition by Noor Fattal, Nour Kabbara and Jihad Samra

JAN.13 A book signing of C'etait il y a 20 ans: Beyrouth le centre... Aujourd'hui by Elias Khlat

JAN.14 A painting exhibition by Laurette El Halal

JAN.21 A painting exhibition by Raoul Mallat

JAN.27 A book signing by Hoda Bayassi

JAN.28 Recitals by Maan Zakaria

FEB.03 A book signing by Jeannot Haddad

FEB.04 A Painting exhibition by Ali Rifaii

FEB.10 Collective poetry reading by young poets.

FEB.11 Collective poetry reading by young poets.

FEB.17 A book signing by Mazen Zahreddine

FEB.18 A book signing by Sharif Majdalani

notes on being
NawfalPalace is closed on Sundays and on official holidays. It is open daily from 9 am to 5 pm.
For more information, contact:
NawfalPalace: 06 627848
Khaled Merheb: 03 317130
Elias Khlat: 03 227462

Saturday, November 19, 2011

ThePurple Haut-Parleur || issue one Nov.25

debauchery. what i feel like? .. i feel like a group of people producing an immense amount of thinking, enough for them to sustain themselves with no need of external social reference. a group of people, capable enough to resolve, pseudo-intellectually, its mode of life, its being. a group of people that never say 'i agree' a group of people that make things, that like to listen to things, that like to think, that get high to stories by other people, the present tense, and wait eagerly -at cliffs- for the sunset.

Thursday, November 3, 2011

(In The World)

you hold things. things you probably are not supposed to hold. carry, things you're better off without. but you do. you think. you think. you're not sure. but you do. you carry. you hold. and you write, as exorcism, as catharsis, as disposal, as bullshit - you do. you think. you think. you're not sure, you rethink as you repeat things you've already typed to sound more whimsical, more musical - and here you go, you do it again - easier to handle, to grasp, to understand, when broken into pieces. so you stop. so you halt. you think, rethink - both thinking and rethinking leading nowhere new, no new things to hold, no lighter things to carry. you write. you rewrite. and this girl in red hair wants you to make her feel like she's the only girl in the world, as if your shit isn't enough. aspirin. you jump and jump until your legs die. they die, you oblivious. it's probably a remix, but it's fine. eventually, later that night, you'll sleep.