this is so inspiring to me. i love the details of how an artist works. i look at everything: the picture peeping behind the sketch clipped onto the easel, the masking tape left over from her last painting, the drippings on the wall, and the painting itself, incomplete yet ethereally beautiful
A few days ago, I visited the Beirut-based artist Tamara Al-Samerraei in her studio, which she shares with artist Najah Taher. It’s situated in a culture-rich area of Hamra off the Beiruti high street. When I got there, I heard live music playing in a nearby street and Olivia Newton-John’s Let’s Get Physical blaring from the insides of a tall building. Tamara’s place, however, felt like an oasis in the hodge-podge bustle around me. The Ottoman-era building which houses the two artists’ studios/office would have seemed out of place on this street if it weren’t for the trees around it serving as a gentle buffer between new and old, modern and beautiful.
As soon as I walked in, I devoured the place with my camera. Cross the bridge for more photos of Tamara and Najah’s little eden.
i love the stained glass windows and high ceilings. and the books
this is the main hall and office area overlooking a gorgeously unkept garden. the work here is mostly najah’s
in an adjacent room this lady’s face reminded me of my mother
beautiful floor. and my feet. this is right outside tamara’s painting studio
what’s hidden behind the door. i’m sure that apron’s never been wore (a little poetic license there)
tamara lovely and vivacious
these are prints of some of her paintings from her last exhibition at beirut’s agial art gallery. her paintings are whimsical, haunting and have an air of antiquity that i find myself attracted to always. i love the yellow water guns, and the hoses provide such a playful aesthetic
tamara seems to be quite methodical when painting. quite a bit of study has gone into her painting of a girl playing with her dog. this, to me, is a tiny glimpse into tamara’s mind
this is so inspiring to me. i love the details of how an artist works. i look at everything: the picture peeping behind the sketch clipped onto the easel, the masking tape left over from her last painting, the drippings on the wall, and the painting itself, incomplete yet just as ethereally beautiful