Rebellion Resurrected: The Will of Youth Against History

Rebellion Resurrected: The Will of Youth Against History - The Markaz Review

Arabic Comics Today: the new Generation (1)

Arabic Comics Today: the new Generation (2)

Arabic Comics Today: the new Generation (3)

Arabic Comics Today: the new Generation (4)

Arabic Comics Today: the new Generation (5)

محاولة مُستعادة للتمرّد: هل يُعيد التاريخ نفسه أم تنتصر إرادة الشباب؟

Arabic Comics Today: the new Generation

Rebellion resurrected:  

The will of youth against history

Intro to the Catalogue of the exhibit “Arab Comics Today” 2018

Is it a coincidence that Angoulême has chosen to dedicate, for a second time, an exhibition to Arab comics, almost 3 decades after the first? Or does history repeat itself? Is it a coincidence that this new exhibition, like the first, takes place in a context of revolutions and wars – wars born out of dreams which, having becoming nightmares, haunt the whole of the Arab world? Is it a coincidence that comics today have become the most eloquent expression of this young generation who challenged history at the first “budding” of the Arab Spring? Is it a coincidence that comics is the medium which lends its voice to the ambitions of this generation, its hopes and disappointments, its victories and frustrations?

At the beginning of the 1980s, in the midst of the civil war raging in Lebanon[1], a new wave of Arab comics was born, whose message, like a voice without an echo[2], remained inaudible. In 2007, the magazine Samandal took over the reins, showing us that crises and wars, even at the scale of a small country, can unleash an unimaginable creativity which can burst over national borders and set ablaze every region of the world, as if it had just been waiting for this spark. It was thus that Magdy El Shafee’s Métro (published in Egypt, 2008) also opened a breach, blowing a powerful gust of freedom of expression into the surrounding cultural asphyxia. The social and political importance of Métro made it the most discussed comic album in the media in Egypt, which was, at that time, suffering under the crushing weight of an agonising dictatorship.

Collectives as a lever for change

Samandal, as a collective, and El Shafee, as an individual, embody what characterises the new wave of Arab comics, both in form and content. The fanzine format of the first has, however, taken the lead on the individual practice of the second, the collective becoming progressively the “base” around which artists organise themselves. Samandal was the first initiative to adopt a collective structure, which allowed it to overcome the challenges posed by the publishing market, and thus set itself up as a model for others to follow. By founding an organisation, and relying on private finances to publish its issues, Samandal found the means to guarantee its longevity. It was thus able to create an independent platform dedicated to artists (mainly the founders) looking to express themselves and promote their work. The Lebanese economic system, which favours private sector initiatives, has contributed to this success.

This Lebanese initiative Samandal served as inspiration for the creation of the Egyptian magazine TokTok in 2011, during a period when the country was eager for change. Whilst Magdy El Shafee’s Métro had struck at the heart of the fear surrounding the powers that be, TokTok brought together young Egyptians searching for a platform for their work. In addition to responding to a clear need on a national scale, TokTok soon became a real ‘Arabic oasis’, which opened its pages to artists from all over the region, particularly in the Maghreb, benefiting from the proximity of the countries and of their respective social, political and economic structures. We cannot ignore the central role of workshops, organised abroad by TokTok and Samandal, in encouraging artists from different regions to meet and create collectives, thus cultivating spaces dedicated to freedom of expression in different countries. It is as if the collective, catalyst for the contemporary wave of Arab comics, constituted the ideal means of creating independent platforms and liberating oneself from the constraints of the publishing world. The proliferation of collectives, taking place amongst the collapse of corrupt political regimes, is in itself extremely significant. It was indeed in this turbulent context that a multitude of fanzines appeared, most of which are still in print: Lab619 (Tunisia 2013), Skefkef (Morocco 2013), Masaha (Iraq 2015), Garage (Egypt 2015), Habka (Libya 2015). Other fanzines were also launched, but, for various reasons, did not survive, Al Doshma (Egypt 2011), Allak Fayn (Egypt 2016), Al Tahwila (Egypt 2012), Autostrad (Egypt 2011), Les Furies des Glaneurs (Lebanon 2011), Al Shakmajiyya (Egypt 2014) for example. Comic book production entered a new phase, enriched by the diversity of contributions from artists who, for the first time could choose where to publish their work[3]. At the very moment when the Arab world had become more divided than ever before, and its different regions more disconnected, comics - more than any other form of artistic expression -  provided a unifying link between young artists, thanks to the network of exchanges initiated by collectives. It has since then become regular practice for a fanzine to publish the work of artists from another country, who are themselves the founders of a fanzine in their own country; or to invite an artist from a country to run a workshop somewhere else in the Arab world[4], or to take part in round-table discussions in Europe addressing contemporary Arab comics[5]. This phenomenon throws into question the individual nature of certain publications and the role of their reciprocative influences.

 ‘I’ in the linguistic mosaic

TokTok, and in its wake Skefkef and Lab619, were inspired by Samandal to self-publish and thus overcome the constraints imposed by traditional methods of publication and distribution. To do so, these non-profit, non-governmental organisations relied on alternative financial support, such as production funds provided by various agencies and institutions, for the most part European[6].

It is by their different vocations and content that these initiatives distinguish themselves. Samandal is itself an experimental platform which publishes the work of artists from Lebanon, Arabic countries and elsewhere, in multiple languages (Arabic, English and French). Its multilingualism reflecting the cultural diversity of Lebanon. Samandal privileges experimentation over visual form, to the point that the very nature of the comic strip is brought into question[7].

TokTok, for its part, distances itself from any elitism in form and content and focuses on themes ranging from the social and popular to the individual or personal. Its texts are exclusively written in Arabic, both classical or dialectal. TokTok uses a clearly narrative visual language, quite removed from the experimental[8]. These elements have made it a model of inspiration for multiple publications which have followed.

Skefkef developed a form similar to that of fanzines, all in maintaining the quality, graphic design and finish of a magazine. Each issue brings together contributions of Moroccan artists, invited to tackle a shared theme, which is most often highly pertinent to the current social and cultural climate of the country [9].

At the heart of this revival of the Arab comic is the recurring question of language, which re-launched the debate on the multiplicity of identities. If classical Arabic has traditionally dominated the literary sphere, under the influence of Pan Arabism ideology, dialects have progressively gained ground thanks to the social and political interests of the Arab revolutions[10]. The young artists who advocate the use of dialects revendicate proudly the use "I" over "we" in respect of a cultural, ethnic and linguistic diversity, which contests a unifiying intellectual hegemony, of which the results are disastrous. The initiative to create these collectives is in itself a demonstration of the desire to promote the diversity expressed in their publications. The magazine TokTok and Garage are characterised by the use of Egyptian dialect and local expressions, whereas Lab619, Skefkef, Masaha and Habka differentiate themselves by their use of other dialects - Tunisian, Moroccan, Iraqi or Libyan – to such a degree that to foreign eyes - even Arab eyes - the linguistic, regional and cultural specificities can be difficult to decipher. A look at the titles of the magazines illustrates their extreme local identity:  TokTok (a rickshaw, popular means of transport in Egypt), Skefkef (a cheap sandwich, popular in Casablanca), Lab619 (referring to Tunisian barcodes), Al Shakmajiyya (a jewellery box used for make-up) and Samandal (chameleon – a nod to the diversity and linguistic and cultural adaptability of its content). The collectives thus broke with the convention, established since the beginning of Arab comics, of choosing the title of the magazine from the panoply of names common to Arabic and Islamic heritage (Ahmed, Majed, Ali Baba, Samir, Sindbad, Samer, Khaled, Mahdi, etc.) – names which, above all, were systematically accompanied on the cover by a sub-heading evoking pan-arab nationalism ideology (Oussama ‘The Magazine for the Arab Child’; Al Arabi Alsaghir (The Little Arab Child) ‘For all the Boys and Girls in the Arab World’; Ahmad ‘For a Muslim Generation’; Samer ‘For a Happy Arab Generation’).

The role of women and breaking taboos

Whatever their form or genre, today’s comics are characterised by a freedom of expression and openness towards experimentation and personal exploration. The collectives have, since the beginning, constituted a form of rebellion against social and political hegemony and the constraints of tradition. They have used their publications to explore subjects long considered taboo in Arab societies, particularly those linked to sex, religion and social traditions. Certain comics even broach the following controversial topics: Al Shakmajiyya: a magazine dedicated to feminism and sexual harassment in Egyptian society; Samandal (Ça restera entre nous, [This will stay between us] 2016): consecrated its annual to sexuality and homosexuality; not to talk about the comic Ramadan Hardcore by Moroccan artist Hisham Habchi. Up until now these topics had rarely been tackled in a visual narrative form. Women artists were at the forefront of these first movements in the Arab world which dared to defy the authorities and traditional orthodoxy concerning women’s rights, particularly their right to bodily integrity. The high percentage of women artists specialising in the professional comic book sector is an important indicator of this engagement[11]. Do they, no doubt, feel more concerned than their male counterparts by the necessity of a transformative change towards individual freedom? Those who have raised and interrogated this issue have sometimes been accused of ‘going too far’, leading to legal action against, and political censorship of, certain collectives, who have since had to publish abroad[12]. Other initiatives, born out of revolutions demanding justice, rule of law and liberty, have used comics as an educational tool in awareness-raising campaigns; Allak fein? and Al-Doshma consitute prime examples.

Diversity and rebellion against the past

A burning desire for openness has left no subject or genre untouched: super heroes[13], science fiction, politics, entertainment, biting satire, current celebrities[14] or the author’s emotional state[15]. No subject is barred. A space has unfolded where the only limit is the artist’s imagination or sensibility, far from any form of self-censorship. Another striking aspect is the almost complete absence of subjects dealing with “glorious History of Islam”[16], as though these young people are too occupied by the present moment and wish to break with the past against which they rebel. This likely explains the use of a visual aesthetic inspired by European comics, Japanese mangas or even American animated television series[17]. Only certain Egyptian artists inscribe their work in the local visual heritage, notably made up of caricature, which forms an important site of collective memory in Egyptian society. It has become common to see artists master multiple techniques, using in their work a mixture of caricature, illustration, comics and graffiti (Mohamed Andeel, Makhlouf and Ganzeer for example, but above all the Moroccan artists in their conquest of urban walls).

In terms of form, these magazines restructured their editorial content and sections to better reflect their objectives and values – incorporating another layer of diversity. Thus the traditional didactic structures, which had dominated magazines for children (each distinguishing itself from the others only by the ideology it propagated), completely disappeared. Samandal created mirror-pages which invited the reader to turn the magazine in different directions depending on the alphabet used, Arabic or Latin. TokTok replaced sub-sections with profiles of famous artists, concluding by the comic remark (Made in Egypt) or by a more visual presentation. Lab619 prefers to present the artists‘ pages with no introduction, and does not give importance to the change in the reading direction when the stories are written in Latin script. Skefkef, on the other hand, interlaces its illustrated pages with short stories, emphasising that the written text is just as important as the visual aspect. It has also provided musical elements to accompany its issues[18].

However, these magazines are missing an important feature of modern comics; their long series or graphic narratives. The classic “To be continued…” is almost totally absent from all of these new magazines, perhaps because their authors cannot be certain that this issue will be followed by another... Contributions are often limited to concise ideas and short stories, without long narratives or continuity between issues[19]. As if the artists, in the context of revolution, wanted to position themselves in the present moment, that is, to focus our attention on their personal torments, before moving onto something else. This point deserves to be highlighted, as the region is known for its heritage of oral narrative and never-ending stories, traditionally passed on from generation to generation (The 1001 Nights, The Saga of Banu Hilal, etc). Graphic novels in Arabic are very rare since the publication of Métro, with the exception of Murabba wa Laban [Jam and Yoghurt] by Lena Merhej; A City Neighbouring the Earth by Jorj Abou Mhaya, Ayalo by Mustafa Youssef and Al Tahadi [The Challenge] by Omar Ennaciri. Several others may never have seen the light of day were it not for western publishers who brought them out in their respective foregn languages (Zeina Abirached, Michèle Standjovski, Hamed Sulaiman, Barrack Rima, Kamal Hakim, Ralph Doumit and the publications of ALBA - Lebanese Academy of Fine Art[20]).

Developing professional expertise

The significance of this current wave of Arab comic lies in the fact that it does not find its roots in the impetuous fantasies of a handful of young artists, who, burning with a desire, would readily seek out other horizons once their objectives are acheived. These young, contemporary artists are fully aware of the social and political situation which surrounds them. Most have experienced - and some, in a very active way - opposition movements against the repressive and corrupt systems in their countries. It is therefore with full awareness and maturity that they have taken on these new artistic approaches, following a model which they intend to make last. Here lies the importance of workshops, which are organised in the hope of reinforcing the professionalization of the domain, a condition sine qua non for its survival. These workshops enable artists to meet and create spaces for discussions, debates and the sharing of ideas, constructing a framework of shared references and ongoing communication which promotes solidarity and co-operation. CairoComix (the comics festival born in Cairo, 2015) is the most emblematic of these local and international gatherings. It plays a pivotal role in nurturing this new movement and provides a solid platform where artists can exchange experiences, discuss ideas and promote their work.

This significant turning point in the approach towards comics was accompanied – and in some cases preceded – by the introduction of university courses in comics, together with a growing interest in academic research in the field[21].

The book or the ‘lost market’

Whilst the collectives successfully established a solid basis for the existence of a new genre of adult comics through their fanzines, it was not the same case for graphic novels, which continue to rely on publishing houses and conventional distribution networks.   El Shafee’s Métro was an unusual phenomenon, and unheard of since. Its publicity and media campaign played a major role in its distribution in the Arab world, both in spite of, and because of, its being banned. Its censorship resulted in the opposite effect that was intended, namely leading to broader publicity on a regional and a national scale. Nevertheless, this also opened the eyes of the authorities to the influential potential of this new medium, thus putting publishers under even more pressure. Other Arab artists, who are just as able with word and pen as El Shafee, have only be able to publish in foreign languages[22], as, after a burgeoning period in the broad regional market, publishing has progressively shrunk to national borders. The absence of local publishers who specialise in the production of comic book albums is itself a factor which makes it difficult for projects to develop, insofar as the publishers do not benefit from private investment, unlike collectives.

In this context, digital mediums have presented an important alternative to conventional means of publication and distribution, not to mention providing a way of navigating increasingly intense censorship. In addition to using digital mediums, which aid the transmission and distribution of their work in faraway places, artists also use social media to create virtual platforms in order ‘distribute the forbidden’. The most pertinent example remains the collective of Syrian artists who, pursued and menaced with death threats by the Assad regime, distributed their work on a Facebook page called ‘Comic4Syria’. This page is an irreplaceable, creative source of documentation on the civil war in Syria, which has already caused the death of more than half a million persons. For obvious reasons, the contributors, unfortunately, are obliged to remain anonymous. The Moroccan author Hisham Habchi,  who published his comic series Ramadan Hardcore during the month of Ramadan, was able to avoid censorship thanks to the Internet. The situation is similar in Egypt, where a large number of writers and artists are on trial and a number of local organisations are ordered to reduce or to cease their activities, on the pretext that they receive foreign funding to serve foreign interests, or that they are leaking sensitive information (including statistics on human rights, for example!). Even worse, censorship in Arab countries is not due solely to state initiatives: it runs much deeper into civic and religious institutions. As was seen, for example, with Samandal which was the subject of legal proceedings for ‘offence to religion’, after a complaint was lodged by the Catholic Church in Lebanon.

Almost a quarter of a century ago, Angoulême Festival put Arab authors in the spotlight. Today, it invites again a number of young artist who are re-writing the history of this region, a region on the brink of imploding at any moment.

Angoulême thus welcomes these young talents who are trying to alter, through the weft and weave of their drawing and stories, what has been ripped apart, and thus realise their dreams of liberty, justice and citizenship, but also of a re-appropriation of the self and of the right of every individual to live freely in his or her community.

Will they overcome the past that has so scarred their region? Or will they be defeated once again, as were their predecessors? Whatever the result, perhaps it is enough to meet these young artists, discuss with them, look them in the eye, see their dreams, recognise their determination in the challenge to the current reality, and thus understand that for them stepping back is not an option.

George Khoury (Jad)

July 2017

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[1]        In 1980 the first comic book for adults was published: Carnaval (Jad), followed by Abu-Chanab (1981), Alf Leyla wa Leyla (1982) and Sigmund Freud (1983). This path lead to the collective JadWorkshop (1986) which included: Lina Ghaibeh, Wissam Beydoun, Edgar Aho, May Ghaibeh and Shoghig Dergoghassian. The album Min Beirut (1989) was the last publication of the group, and the collective came to an end after a final exhibition, Out of Communication, in 1992.

[2]        Mazen Kerbaj is the only exception in terms of consistent continuity, although his production is primarily in French. Kerbaj remains a ‘lone wolf’, unassociated with any particular collective, and is the most prolific author on the Lebanese scene. His best known album in Arabic is hazihi al-hikaya tajri (Dar-Al-Adab, 2010).

[3]        Zeina Abirached, Mazen Kerbaj, George Boumhaya, Joumana Medlej, Ralph Doumit (Lebanon), Mohammed El Bellaoui (Rebel Spirit), Omar Ennaceri (Morocco), Magdy El Shafee, Mustafa Youssef (Egypt).

[4]        Samandal, TokTok and Skefkef are the most active in this domain.

[5]        The 2015 Barcelona platform brought together artists from four collectives: Samandal, TokTok, Skefkef and Lab619. This meeting was preceded by a similar, larger, one at Erlangen in 2008, and we should not forget the influence of the round tables established in 2015 by CairoComix.

[6]        French, German and Italian cultural centres have contributed to the funding of Samandal (Lena Merhej, 2015, “Meeting in the Land of 1000 Balconies”, La Capella, Institut de Cultura de Barcelona). TokTok is supported by funding from the European Union and Skefkef is aided by local donors (interview with Salah Malouli of Skefkef and Mohamad Rahmo, founder of the cultural agency ‘Madness’, 2017).

[7]        “ (…) [The story must be beautiful, the drawings aren’t that important…]” (Lena Merhej, 2015, “Meeting in the Land of 1000 Balconies”).

[8]        “If an artist puts forward an experimental work, I tell him go to Samandal (Mohamad Al-Shinnaoui, 2015, “Meeting in the Land of 1000 Balconies”).

[9]        Skefkef underlines the cultural and ethnic diversity of Morocco where Amazigh (Berber language), was recently recognised as the second official language. (Interview with Salah Malouli, Casablanca, July 2017).

[10]   It is important to note here that all comics in the region were published or controlled by state-run instituions. The example of adult comics using Arabic dialect, in the 1980s in Lebanon, was an exception.

[11]      A quarter of the Skefkef and more of Samandal artists are young women. There are almost twice as many women solo authors of albums as men, among them: Zeina Abirached, Lena Merhej, Joumana Medlej (Lebanon), Zineb Benjelloun, Zeinab Fassiqi (Morocco), Noha Habaieb (Tunisia).

[12]      Samandal chose to focus its latest issue on sexuality in France, as a co-production with Alifbata (Ça restera entre nous, Alifbata/Samandal, 2016)

[13]      The series Malaak by Jouman Medlej (Lebanon 2007) and 99 about Islamic super heroes by Nayef Moutaweh (Kuwait 2006).

[14]      The character of “Al-Sayess” by Mohamad El-Shennawy, mascot of the TokTok magazine.

[15]      The Samandal artists are pioneers in this, as they don't mention or make reference to the ‘Arab Spring’, whilst the others began in revolutionary circumstances and embraced the activism that went with them.

[16]      Morocco remains an exception with the series Tarikhuna, in Amazigh.

[17]      In Morocco for example, today’s young artists grew up reading comics like Spirou, in the absence of any local production. (Interview with the Skefkef collective, 2017). In other publications, the influence of mangas and cartoon series broadcast on the Cartoon Network is clear.

[18]      Skefkef’s formula is based on an artists‘ workshop in Casablanca who come together to work on a particular local theme, as well as calling on alternative music bands to work on the same theme and take part in the publication.

[19]   Migo’s Ya’ jouj wa Ma’ jouj is an exception in TokTok (issues 7-14).

[20]      The Lebanese Academy of Fine Art (ALBA) has been the training ground for generations of artists who make up the majority of potential actors in Lebanon.

[21]      L’Insitute Nationale des Beaux-Arts (Tétouan – Morocco), LAcadémie libanaise des beaux-arts - Alba (Lebanon) are the first, and maybe only, academic insitutions to propose a full academic program in this domain. The Alba has trained generations of Lebanese illustrators, which form the majority of comics artists in Lebanon. The Mutaz and Rada Sawaf Arabic Comics Initiative of the American University of Beirut, founded in 2014, plays a pioneering role in the domain of academic research in the comic genre in the Arab world, and also supervises the annual Mahmoud Kahil Prize for artists working in comics, caricature and illustration.

[22]      Mazen Kerbaj, Zeina Abirached, Michèle Standjovski and Sleiman El-Ali for example.

Animation in the Middle East: practices and aesthetics from Baghdad to Casablanca

 Cultivating an Arthouse Viewership: Lebanese Animation Audiences Grow Up

Lina Gaibeh and George Khoury Jad

 

Lebanon is no stranger to cultural experimentation, having, throughout its modern history, been exposed to western political, social, and cultural influences. From automobiles to printing presses, theatres to coffee houses, Beirutis have seen them all, absorbed them all, and adapted them all to the realities of their eclectic culture. So it is no wonder that they saw their first motion picture in the Fleur de la Syrie theatre in 1899, just a few years after the medium came into being. Nor is it any wonder that what became known as Le petit-Paris[1] under the French Mandate in the twenties continued to promote its image as “The Switzerland of the East”[2] for decades thereafter.

Since, as one observer puts it, “until the mid-'70s, the Lebanese were universally known to represent the avant-garde in the Arab World”[3], it comes as no surprise that from the earliest days of independence, members of the Lebanese—mainly Beiruti—public were exposed to all types of foreign motion pictures, including cartoons. Some films even appeared on Lebanese screens simultaneous with their opening dates in European capitals, as a local newspaper advertisement for the premiere of Walt Disney's Cinderella tells us: the film opened at the Capitole theatre in Beirut, Christmas 1950—the same day as in the “major cities of Europe”.[4]

If the city audience—limited at the time—was familiar with feature-length cartoons, that experience was not shared at a national level, since movie theatres of early days existed exclusively in the capital. The wider public had to wait for the introduction of Lebanon’s first television station (CLT, channels 7 and 9) in 1959 to enjoy cartoons.[5] Remarkably, the very first broadcast included a 15-minute foreign cartoon segment following the news slot, which was the opening sequence, and this pattern continued for years.[6] Although one cannot but speculate about the number of viewers at the time (there being no statistics on the number of TV sets per household) it was considered quite normal to encounter gatherings in front of TV shops' windows, with crowds watching the black and white screens.[7]

The short cartoons broadcasted on the local TV channels were included as part of the contracts with major Anglo-American companies such as ITC, NBC, SCREEN GEMS, CBS, and others.[8] Because Channel 7 broadcast in Arabic and subtitles and dubbing were not available for cartoons at this point, multilingual viewers managed to enjoy them, sometimes relying on children for help with translation, not to mention that cartoons at the times were mostly self-explanatory.

On the 2nd of May 1962, another TV station, Télé-Orient (Channels 5 & 11), entered the arena. Unlike its predecessor, the partnership was sole with the American giant ABC.[9] Equipped with advanced technical gear, a sophisticated organizational structure provided by ABC, and a wide range of contracts with regional emerging state-run TV channels,[10] Télé-Orient followed a pan-Arab strategy. The Lebanese dialect was replaced by classical Arabic in all local productions, and Arabic subtitling was introduced to foreign shows. With the introduction of color television in October 1967, cartoons for children were established as the main component of the broadcast schedule of all four of Lebanon’s commercial channels. While color TV sets were rare, it is estimated that the number of black and white TV sets had reached 250,000 in 1967.[11] The most popular cartoons at this time were Mighty Mouse, Heckle and Jeckle, Tom & Jerry, The Flintstones, Bugs Bunny, and other Looney Toons characters.

In the early 1970s, Beirut began to shift its role from importer to importer/exporter of cartoons in the Middle Eastern media scene. It retained this role throughout the civil war, during which the two existing TV stations were forced to merge into one station, half-owned by the government, with 4 channels under the name of Télé-Liban.[12] With a continuing pan-Arab approach and the heavy demand of Arab-world markets for cartoons series, Lebanese importers turned to Japanese producers, who were known for their high productivity, high variety, and low costs compared to the American or European ones.[13] There were, however, still no Lebanese producers of cartoons.

Mainly aimed at an audience of toddlers and school-aged children, the first theme was mainly chosen in accordance with Arabic culture or heritage as in the Adventures of Sindbad from 1001 nights.  Because of children’s limited reading skills, subtitling was soon replaced with dubbing. Two specialized Lebanese dubbing Studios dominated the market, gathering renowned actors from local TV series to produce the voice-overs[14]. Opening sequences were remixed with Arabic lyrics by singers, some of whose careers were launched in this way because of the wider audience for the cartoons in Arabic. Names of main characters were also changed to fit the regional audience, while twists in stories and free translation were common practices. Still famous for their influence on the generation of the 1970s are series such as Moghamarat  Sindibad (Adventures of Sindbad, 1978), Grendizer (UFO Robot Grendizer Raids, 1979), Zeina wa Nahhoul (Maya the Honey Bee, 1978), Jungar (Astroganger, 1979), Jazeerat Al-Kanz (Treasure Island), Adnan wa Lina (Conan, the Future Boy, 1979), among others. 

Two main factors distinguished the era between the late 1970s and the end of the civil war[15] in the early 1990s. First, television became the major (if not the exclusive) medium for the spread of cartoons to thousands of young viewers, since most cinemas had closed (in Greater Beirut a couple of theatres were irregularly operational for audiences made up mainly of members of militias, and cartoons weren’t their favorite shows). Furthermore, cartoons on VHS videotapes were restricted to affluent and influential members of the citizenry. Second, cartoons became independent shows on the weekly TV schedules, occupying prime time slots even on some of the illegal TV stations that flourished after 1985, which were led by LBC (Lebanese Broadcast Company). As a result cartoon series became part of the collective memory of the civil war.[16]

 

Future Television: Local production a turning point

 

Since their emergence in Lebanon, cartoons were marked by two major limitations: They provided either education or simple entertainment but did not have much range beyond that, or they were directed at a strictly juvenile audience. A new player, however, changed this perception from its first national broadcasts, continuing as it developed into a pan-Arab satellite TV station, Future Television.[17] Aware of the influence of the genre, and as part of its strategy to target youth, the station started airing a weekly prime-time cartoon after the Saturday evening news (to become daily after the news), its social-political content targeting an adult viewership. To secure long-term production capacities, the station, which was broadcasting 24 hours a day, created an in-house animation department, which is still unique among TV stations in the region.

Kalil wa Dimn (1993) was the first locally produced adult cartoon series in Lebanon (and probably in the Arab world). It entailed an adaptation of an Arabic folk tale, its animal-human characters tackling issues of political and social content. The initial production team, headed by George (Jad) Khoury, included cartoonists who went on to create series of their own, including Lina Ghaibeh, and Edgar Aho, who was joined in the mid-1990s by Fulvio Codsi, and Bahige Jaroudi.[18] Aided by two young scriptwriters, Rabih Mroué and Fadi Abi-Samra,[19] the team produced Taaleek Al-Yaoum (The Daily Comment, 1995), a daily political commentary cartoon in the format of a news broadcast with the main character a news anchor and shown directly after the evening news. Whereas the previously mentioned show was the result of teamwork, the series Roussoum Mutaharrira (Freed Drawings, 3’, 2001 and still running), focused on a weekly theme and was directed by one animator per week. That formula, imposed by the necessity of daily deliverables and the short length of individual cartoons, gave each animator the freedom to express his/herself, developing a wide variety of styles and content, which became the trademark of the department.

Besides its daily contribution, and based on the audience these adult cartoons attracted, the animation team became an essential contributor to the station’s promotional campaigns. During the political turmoil of the early millennium, the team spearheaded the station’s involvement in the presidential election controversy of 2004 with Mouzakkarat Kursi (Diary of a chair, 2004). The Independence 05 (2005) series played an influential role in the popular movement against the Syrian presence in Lebanon that was later known as the “Cedar Revolution”, followed a year later by the series Enough (2006), which took a stand against the Israeli war of 2006.

What is remarkable is that the production of the department was not limited to 2D cell animation, but it ventured into Claymation with a series of promotion shorts untitled ATA (1997 and on), but the high cost of the sets and production made it infrequent. With limited technical resources for that specific genre, the animation team had to rely on personal know-how, developing solutions from what was available. Based on humorous scripts with sets related to main popular landmarks in Beirut, ATA the common man clay guy entered the minds and hearts of thousands of viewers to a point where it became a synonym to the station identity. One could not end the story of Future without mentioning the short-lived series Al-Watwat wa Al-Sununu (The Bat and the Robin, 2004), a daily 3minutes soap-opera parody, that ended after 3 months after it started and was based on the Rotoscope technique.[20] 

The Future Television experience was a turning point in the local production of Cartoons. In parallel to their work for television, animators of the team went on to sign their own independent shorts or series: 1001 Days (George Khoury (Jad), 2000, 15’) is considered the first short movie locally produced, and was granted regional and international recognition.[21] Tackling the issue of censorship in Lebanon under the Syrian occupation in the new millennium, the movie was inspired by the structure and the storytelling of the famous popular 1001 Nights, throwing its main character into the daily hassle of the secret police. At the same time, Lina Ghaibeh started to tackle women’s issues in animation. As the first female animator in Lebanon, her 7 Days a Week (2000, 3’) focused on the problems a working mother could face in her daily life, while as if to balance with general human causes SadMan (2002, 3’:39”) was a depiction of a reoccurring scene in different days with different problems and different outcomes. In Ya Waladi (My Son, 2005, 4’:45”) Ghaibeh followed the daily route of a mother to the city center holding the image of her missing son during the war. With a style that holds her signature, the short acted as a catalyst in the public awareness in favor of the cause of the disappeared.  Burj El-Murr (2012, 13’) established her as a reference figure in the Beirut animation scene, and her shorts continue to be shown at international festivals.  Similarly, Edgar Aho’s series The Dictator (2003, animation shorts)[22] was a landmark in Lebanese cartoons. Although the subject was very serious, Aho managed by his unusual skills and imagination to make it funny and powerful.[23]

With the new millennium, Bahij Jaroudi joined the animation department at Future Television. As a young talented animator with an illustration and graphic design background, Jaroudi added a fresh breath to the station’s production. His work for the TV and his independent shorts, El-Toro Azul (2008, 48”), The Facts in the Case of Mr. Valdemar (2009, 2’:40”) and Isabelle (2010, 3’:12’) introduced a distinct style; that of his trademark peculiar characters influenced by 1950s cartoon aesthetics, his eerie landscapes, and his fluid and detailed movements. Jaroudi’s work is also highlighted by his impeccable choice of soundtrack, certainly impacted by his extended conservatoire training and love of music

 

Building an infrastructure: Academia on board

 

Future Television’s success story in making animation a major component of its image spread a sort of signal to the post-civil-war generation eager to venture into this new medium. The “buzz” that these shorts created among the audience, opened wide the demand from other broadcasters, and advertising companies for skilled animators. At the same time, the animation experience of Future Television produced qualified animators who were ready to translate their practice into academic courses and training opportunities, which would answer the demand for skilled animators within Lebanon. One should notice that the advancement of computers, and the relatively accessible animation tools provided through affordable and specialized software (as archaic as they started) made this shift possible.

            It was, therefore, no surprise that academic institutions (the main source that fuels the specialized market) started offering animation courses as part of their existing graphic design or audio-visual programs.  The American University of Beirut (AUB) took the lead at this level, offering two courses of cartoon skills headed by Lina Ghaibeh. The graphic design program in AUB started specialized courses in 1995, and through the years, graduated a generation of TV graphic designers and animators who played a leading role in the re-launch of Pan-Arab TV stations in the Arab world, mainly in the Gulf region. The Lebanese American University (LAU) followed 4 years later and offered under the direction of George Khoury (Jad)[24] similarly tailored courses, which later expanded to form part of a Minor degree in digital media. The animation courses offered at those universities, however, have to date not developed into fully-fledged programs in animation.

It was not until the early 2000s that other universities took this further, and developed their own fully-fledged programs. Notre Dame University (NDU) established their animation program in 2001, as part of the faculty of Sciences, naming it Computer Graphics & Animation (CGA),[25] even though their visual arts and graphic design program included courses in animation, with a three-year multimedia design concentration.[26] Soon after, in 2003, the Lebanese Academy of Art (ALBA) started an animation degree and later introduced a Masters in animation [SV11] under the direction of Alain Brenas, Michel Lamia, and Emile Adaimy.[27] ALBA offered two directions; 2D-oriented animation at the school of visual arts, and 3D at the school of Publicité or advertising. The Université Saint-Esprit at Kaslik (USEK) collaborated with DigiPen Institute of Technology in setting up their animation program, particularly as the program was offered as part of their gamification and interactive media section.  In addition to setting up the labs, the company played an important role in providing training for the students and offering employment to their graduates. This formula worked quite well and developed an active group of game animators.[28] When DigiPen closed down in Lebanon, some of the employees left and joined the firm in the States, while others such as Reine Abbas together with Ziad Fghali started their own gamification firm. In 2008 Abbas together with Feghali wrote the curriculum for USEK's MA program, which has been offered since 2009.[29]

 

“Animation d’auteur” disorder and reorganization

 

Although the pioneering animation professionals in Lebanon were either self-taught or had studied animation abroad, most of the new generation came through local university programs. Exploring the field to its fullest, animators ventured into a variety of animation genres and media: from music videos and TV commercials to awareness campaigns; from 2D classic cell animation to 3d modeling, stop-motion, and video compositing. Of those who ventured out of the advertising and TV-commercial stream, one should mention the category is better known as animation d’auteur or the animator author. 

Ghassan Halwani’s original style of depicting the author’s disturbing inner world marked a difference among the newcomers: Gibraltar (2005, 15’) revolves around a man with no roots or heritage in search of absolute freedom after a disappearance, and Thakhabbot (2009, 4’) presents two lives lived side by side in Beirut, a city in perpetual mutation.[30] Lena Merhej’s stark black and white Drawing the War (2002), reflected a vision of a whole generation affected by the civil war, as did her contribution in the roughly drawn Another Year (2008) a series of animation spots for the day of solidarity with the Palestinian people.[31] Others chose a more humorous approach to the war; Jad Sarout’s Zeid and Leila (2009, 8’) stood out with its fast-paced animation, clean lines, and modern love story. With daring nude scenes, Sarout depicted a boring couple who, having been killed in an explosion, begin a fierce race to heaven as ghosts. His classmate Chadi Aoun paid homage to his city, Beirut, through the fluid-action animation of a belly dancer in his short Hawa (2007, 4’47”). Jad Sarout and Chadi Aoun also founded Yelostudio, an independent animation studio in 2009.

Solo player David Habchi, a multidisciplinary artist with a style of his own, made his fame in the field of stop-motion and puppet animation in parallel with 2D cell animation; Wehde (2011, 4’20”), a 2D stop-motion play on the Arabic word loneliness and unity; and Fouad (2013, 1’47”), an impressive short dedicated to the cause of the 17,000 people still missing from the war. Habchi was one of the few to introduce animation as an exclusive component of pop video clips for youth. His contribution to the hip-hop band Ashekman was an essential component of their popular song Ya Reit (I wish, 2013), illustrated in the signature style of Fouad Mezher, and directed by Michel Karshouny.

What made these experiences interesting is that the above-mentioned animations (with the exception of Kaman Sana, which was funded by the United Nations ESQWA program)[32], were driven by the authors’/animators’ passion and determination in terms of their effort, the time spent on the projects and the sources of funding. The Lebanese government, suffering from an enormous post-war national debt, did not consider the growth of an animation sector one of its priorities. At the same time, TV stations had their own agendas, which were driven by the supposed demands of large audiences, with short personal artistic cartoons being considered elitist. Moreover, to the broader audience, cartoons as a general perception are still considered a product for children. If anything could tempt the broadcasters, it would be based on a long-term, lucrative investment such as in an animated series or in feature movies. Additionally, in Lebanon at this point, such projects still do not have the necessary manpower to accomplish all the steps required for cartoon production, making dubbed foreign cartoons still more lucrative.

Author-animators, marked by their individual experimentations in style, genre, and targeted audience, have played a major role in introducing diversified techniques and themes into local production. They have been influenced by mainstream international trends of experimental and artistic cartoons for select audiences as they closely follow current innovations in the field. This process started early during the civil war through the organization of periodic special screenings and workshops led mainly by European cultural centers, spreading later to university campuses. Such small-group encounters motivated various groups to gradually increase public interest in animation through a variety of specialized events, workshops, and screenings, including their own production. Although many of these attempts were fleeting, with no continuity, one such collective, Waraq, showed sustained and consistent activity as it aimed to create and showcase multidisciplinary artistic projects in the Arab world. The collective organizes and hosts a multitude of animation workshops in Lebanon and the wider region, ranging from puppet-making to set design, puppet animation, and stop motion. It also offers animation screenings, talks, and other events. The group has successfully built a following and inspires many to work in the field.[33]

It was only natural that the scattered and individual activities were soon channeled into a more unified forum, and that the professionals congregated into an institutionalized organism. The Syndicate of Professional Graphic Designers and Illustrators in Lebanon (SPGIL), which included animators and cartoonists among the range of professions it comprised, came as a joint effort of early pioneers in the above-mentioned fields.[34] Mainly focusing on legal issues that cover copyright laws, social and health insurance, the SPGIL was an important step towards protecting the rights of independent animators and in trying to stabilize (still with little success) prices in the market by monopolizing the legal representation of its members. Although the projects initiated by the syndicate were geared more towards comics and illustration activities (workshops, festivals, etc.) it deserves credit for having launched the first animation festival in Lebanon. It is important to note, however, that European animations comprised the majority of its screenings, with no local ones being shown, and it did not gain the kind of attention received by the more recent festival, Beirut Animated.

 

Let’s get serious: Beirut Animated

 

Launched in 2009,[35] on the initiative of Metropolis Association and the partnership of Samandal magazine, Beirut Animated could be considered the first serious animation festival in Lebanon, based on the number of shows, the artists invited, the workshops, and seminars accompanying the event and the scope of categories covered (features movies, shorts, video clips) and techniques shown (2D cell animation, 3D and stop motion). Since its initiation, the festival has worked slowly but surely towards building a dedicated audience, as well as a steady increase in the number of participants. Interestingly, the festival has been attracting a distinct audience of creative professionals, coming from animation, illustration and design, as well as a younger audience than that type of short film festivals.[36] Contrary to expectations, the festival did not attract a large number of children or families.

Applicants to the second animation festival more than doubled, from 23 in its first year (2009), to 50 in the second, and twice that again in the third edition of 2013. Participants from the Arab world increased seven-fold, from eight in the first year to sixty in the most recent.[37] However, in 2011, with the beginning of the Arab Spring and the rise of many Arab citizens against their totalitarian regimes, the festival – like so many other film festivals in the region – suffered a large decrease in regional participants, with only ten guests from the Arab world outside Lebanon. This was to be expected, as the instability created chaos, and most people were engrossed in their countries’ political situations. Additionally, it was difficult for the festival team to reach possible participants, as well as being challenging for animators and filmmakers to get their work sent in on time or even to attend if invited. In 2013, a number of Syrian animators [SV20] who had fled their civil war to Lebanon were able to participate in their work and attend workshops and festival shows. Egyptians and North Africans, however, were absent.[38]

A simple glance at the content of the programs reveals the extent to which the organizers of Beirut Animated were eager to focus on non-commercial animations coming from small studios or independent animators rather than blockbuster producers. Such little-known animators and products thus turned the festival into a main forum and platform for professionals interested in alternative productions, attracting a savvy and sophisticated public. They should be also credited for several other things as well: screenings of the earliest cartoons in the region with the Frenkel brothers production in Egypt in the late 1930s during the second festival,[39] a celebration of Grendizer, the dubbed Japanese cartoon phenomenon of the 1970s during their first festival,[40] and their homage to the Future Television experience in the second, all of which indicate an insistence on digging into the history of the genre in the Arab world in a conscious attempt to build a collective local (animated) memory.[41]

 

Commercial sector: not an industry yet

 

Immediately following the fifteen-year civil war, all sectors of Lebanese society were involved in rebuilding the broken nation. Along with the massive reconstruction projects, both the increase in TV channels[42] opening up to the world and the thriving advertising firms resulted in high demand for professional TV graphics and animations. Graduates were hired fresh out of school and, as mentioned, specialized educational programs were created to cater to the rising demand. Due to the high cost of specialized equipment and expertise and the relatively low percentage of animations used in commercials, most advertising agencies did not have in-house animation departments. Animated sequences, therefore, were—and still are—outsourced to post-production companies such as Hedgehog, Cube, Caustic, and The Post Office, among others.

During this time nevertheless, a few specialized animation studios sprouted, catering mostly to advertising firms. Two such studios stand out with their professionally animated commercials, Adeimy Studio, founded in 1994 by Emile Adaimy, and Hani Bayoun studio, named after its owner and running since 1999. Both, still in operation today, continue with their advertising work as well as contributing high-quality animations to various TV channels, including selective shorts and in some cases offering specialized services such as Adaimy studio's 3D Projection Mapping.

The high cost of equipment and technology held back the development of small animation firms, along with the lack of skilled manpower. Operating systems that could run high-end moving graphics and animation software could cost $40,000 per unit, with an annual software upgrade costing over $10,000[43] putting such equipment beyond the reach of smaller firms or individuals. Only large institutions such as TV stations, global advertising firms, and specialized studios were able to purchase the prohibitively expensive hardware and software needed for their moving graphics and to periodically renew their professional software.

It is safe to say that the last decade has seen an increase in the use of 2D and, especially, 3D animation as an alternative to live-action in commercials. According to advertising executives, shooting a commercial is considered prohibitively expensive, whereas using animation cuts down on the expenses enormously, and is therefore considered a viable choice for clients. Ten years ago, this was not possible as the professional talent was not available, nor was a high-enough technical quality to be convincing for clients to approve it as an alternative solution available.[44] Furthermore, with lower-priced equipment, independent animators are no longer obliged to work at a company and are therefore more affordable.[45] The increasing speed of the Internet has also made it possible to collaborate with animators from other countries, broadening the spectrum and offering a wider range of types and styles that were previously inaccessible. The spectrum of possibilities made available through such advanced technology now allows for more inventive scriptwriting. Thus the possibility of integrating animations into advertisements has broadened the horizon of creativity with fewer and fewer technical limitations.

Today, between 15 and 20% of advertising firms’ commercial production in Lebanon is animation-based [46] most relying on 3D animation, due to the convincing style of realism it can create and the special effects it can produce. With the majority of animated commercials today targeting adult audiences, the genre is no longer considered a children’s genre but speaks to a wider and more diverse audience, both in ethnicities and across generations.[47] Additionally, the global animation trend and years of accumulated exposure to a large variety of alternative styles, types, and genres have increased interest in animation as an alternative medium of expression and brought a broader acceptance of animation as an effective means for addressing adult issues. This has further allowed animation to be used as a medium to promote adult products or services such as those recently developed for Bank Audi,[48] Balad[49], and Pert™ shampoo [50] as well as public awareness campaigns addressing topics such as the stigma attached to mental health issues. [51]

 

The future of animation: towards an industry or a developed independent scene?  

 

Today, there is a multitude of platforms for showcasing short animated films in Lebanon: from cinemas and TV channels to cultural centers, educational institutions, and a robust film festival circuit. Various websites and social media pages also act as podiums for the local animation scene, with the Lebanese Animation Foundation’s social media page boasting over 300 members. Uncertain of its sustainability, and still in its infancy, the dedicated animation festival Beirut Animated, combined with various other platforms, indicates that hope for modest growth in the animation sector is possible. But is that enough to sustain or even promote a fully-fledged industry?

Lebanon—with its multi-cultural identity, high rate of education, renowned business savvy, and greater freedom of expression permitted by the state than allowed in other Arab countries—has often served as a hub for business and cultural activities, acting as a service center for the region. In the 1960s, 1970s, and 1980s, Beirut was the publishing hub of the Middle East,[52] catering to the writers, intellectuals, and thinkers of the region. It also cranked out experts who, fleeing Lebanon’s instability in the 1980s and 1990s, went on to work in the Gulf States and other more stable countries of the region, starting successful businesses and working as independent contractors and consultants. Known for their entrepreneurship, resourcefulness, and leadership qualities, the Lebanese have often taken the initiative, venturing into successful commercial ventures. Why, then, has this not worked out for an animation industry capable of producing feature-length films?

Perhaps an analogy may be drawn with that of the closely related film industry, which suffers from a similar syndrome: there is evidence of strong individual experimentation, but no industry to speak of, the way there is one in Egypt or Syria. Partly to blame is certainly the lack of governmental or institutional funding available for such undertakings. In comparison, Syrian and Egyptian state television and film associations are responsible for most of the films and the television shows produced in those countries, resulting in the reputations both countries’ film industries have acquired.

The shortage of a strong film industry that would support and attract scriptwriters, production managers, and complex, team-based pipelined processes that the animation production requires, greatly affects the situation in Lebanon. Furthermore, the local market is far too limited to justify the expensive production of animated series or feature films solely for domestic consumption; any such effort must target the region, at the very least. The problem is that a fully commercial production capable of supplying animated films to the region requires two essential components: generous financing, something highly lacking here, and accommodating political, cultural, and religious restrictions.

Although the Lebanese are used to circumnavigating some of those restrictions, due to their complex sectarian composition, such a shift of focus to the region would require that they abide by the tougher regional rules of censorship, which they might find harder to tolerate. They have shown a willingness to accommodate such restrictions in advertisements and commercial films, but there is a greater reluctance when it comes to broader questions of freedom of expression in art. Additionally, the issue of language is also a concern, as pan-Arab productions tend to use classical Arabic instead of local dialects to allow for a wider audience. Used more officially in literature, newscasts or political speeches this language option is not considered appropriate in cartoons, particularly as most television shows, movies, and commercials are in colloquial Arabic.[53] The very successful dubbing of the Disney™ animations into the Egyptian dialect —as opposed to the Classical Arabic normally used—in order to attract younger audiences who are alienated by that form is a good example. Additionally, the various factors that might coalesce in Lebanon to create a full-blown animated film industry have yet to appear. All the factors are still in their infancy: university animation programs with strong ties not only to renowned animation studios or production houses for proper training are lacking as well as a,; cadre of scriptwriters, lighting and sound specialists, lead animators, project managers, and directors.

Lebanon is more likely to continue to act as the field for experimentation, particularly given a number of factors: the relative freedom of expression; an openness to the West, and what this brings in the way of new technologies and alternative perspectives; and the universities acting as research hubs. Add to these an already existing high level of motivation and expertise, and you have a number of the components that are essential for exploration and experimentation.

It is difficult to foresee an expanded commercial future for feature-length animations in Lebanon, and it is not likely that the country will function as an outsourcing hub for animation similar to that in the Far East. Lebanon has neither the industrial foundations nor the infrastructure, governmental funding or market to support such an effort. It is possible that the production of more manageable short animated programs will expand, as the demand already exists; series that have appeared during the high season of Ramadan and met with general approval is making a comeback every year.[54] It is more likely that Lebanese cartoonists will continue to contribute to the independent animation production scene, exploring possibilities, pushing the boundaries of content, genre and quality, all the while providing the country and the region with ample talent.

 

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NOTES

 

[1] Kassir, Samir. Beirut. Berkley, University of California Press, 2010, p. 251. .

[2] Ibid. 332.

[3] Salibi, Kamal. Histoire du LIBAN du 18ème siècle à nos jours. Paris, Naufal,1988. P PAGE NUMBER

Harris, William. Lebanon: A History 600-2011. New York, Oxford University Press, 2012. p. 194 WHICH FOOTNOTE DOES THIS REFER TO?

[4] Kassir, Samir, op. cit., p. 382.

[5] On 28 May 1959, the first images of the first commercial Arabic TV station were born on a national level with “La Compagnie Libanaise de Télévision” broadcasting on Channel 7 (Arabic), and Channel 9 (French). The daily broadcast time was from 7:00pm till 10:00pm. Boulos, Jean-Claude La Télé Quelle Histoire!, p. 46. INCOMPLETE REFERENCE

[6] Ibid. p. 51.

[7] Ibid. p. 46.

[8] Ibid. p. 51.

[9] Boulos, Jean-Claude, p.134

[10] Abu Dhabi, Dubai, Jordan, and Syria.

[11] Ibid. p. 98.

[12] The mergeR was effective in May 1977. Ibid., p.158

[13] The main companies were Nippon Animation Co., Ltd, TOEI Animation, Tokyo Movie Shinsha (TMS Entertainment).

[14] FILMALI Production SAL, and Studio Baalback, both located in Beirut. The first was founded by Nicolas Abou-Samah, already working Director at Télé-Liban, who gathered lead actors from the Lebanese TV series that had stopped due to the limited budgets of the war conditions.

[15] The Lebanese civil war lasted from 1975 until 1990.

[16] Interview with George Khoury (Jad), Head of Animation Department at “Future Television” since 1993.

[17] “Future Television” is a private TV station founded in 1992 and started national broadcasting in February 1993. It was one of two Lebanese stations (with LBC) to occupy the space of the pan-Arab scene in the MENA region for almost a decade.

[18] Interview with George Khoury (Jad) head of the Animation department, Future television since 1993.

[19] Rabih Mroué is now a renowned playwright and performance artist. Fadi Abi-Samra developed a career in acting in feature movies.

[20] Ibid. WHICH SOURCE DOES THIS REFER TO? NOT 19?

[21] The film was selected for festivals such as Vidéaste recherchée, Canada (2000), Casablanca video art festival, Morocco (2000), and Ismailiya film festival, Egypt (2001).

[22] Edgar Aho passed away that same year leaving behind a sad note in the local animation scene.

[23] All the mentioned cartoons were subject to a broadcast ban, and the station stopped airing cartoons for 3 months.

[24] Interview with Khoury, head of the animation department at Future Television.

[25] http://www.ndu.edu.lb/academics/fnas/dcs/comp_gra_ani.htm

[26] http://www.ndu.edu.lb/academics/faad/desdep/bagd.htm

[27] Emile Adaimy founder of one of the first commercial animation studios in Lebanon.

[28] Habchy, David illustrator animator, and cofounder of Waraq collective. personal interview, Lina Ghaibeh July 2014

[29] Abbas, Reine, Personal interview Lina Ghaibeh Aug 2014.

[30] Beirut Animated Catalogue 2009

[31] Another Day. dir. by Maher Abi-Samra, animated by Merhej, Karim Farah and Maya Chami, 2008.

[32] The United Nations Economic and Social Commission for Western Asia promotes economic and social development through regional and sub-regional cooperation and integration.

[33] Waraq was founded in 2013 by four creatives; David Habchy, Joan Bazz, Hussein Nakhal and Ashley Phebe Shoukair, coming together from various fields ranging from animation and illustration to graphic design and performing arts.

[34] These include Lina Ghaibeh, George Khoury (Jad), Edgar Aho, Hani Baayoun and Emile Adaimy, all animators among the early founders of SPGIL, which is presided over by Rita Saab Mukarzel, a veteran comics artist herself.

[35] The first edition of Beirut Animated took place from 16 to 19 November 2009, with the support of the Arab fund for Arts and Culture, the French Embassy-Beirut, the Goethe Institute-Beirut. It continued as a biannual festival and is on its third edition (see the festival catalogue for more details).

[36] Interview with Hania Mroueh, Founder and Director of Metropolis Art Cinema and Beirut Animated. July 2014.

[37] Ibid

[38] Beirut Animated 3rd edition program 2013.

[39] Beirut Animated 2^nd edition program 2011.

[40] Beirut Animated 1^st edition program 2009.

[41] Beirut Animated 2^nd edition program 2011.

[42] The Audiovisual Media Law of 1994 not only regulated the airwaves but also ended the state's monopoly over broadcast television that had been in effect since 1977. Five licenses were granted to different broadcasters reflecting more or less the major political and sectarian communities: LBCI, MTV, NBN. AL-MANAR and FUTURE TELEVISION the last venue. 2 years later they were accorded the rights to satellite broadcasting.

[43] Interview with Khoury, Georges Jad. Head of the animation department, Future television. June 2014.

[44] Interview with Kanaan, Walid, the chief creative officer at IMPACT BBDO Beirut (Advertising firm), July 2014.

[45] Interview with Mahmoud, Areej Creative director at H&C Leo Burnett advertising firm, July 2014.

[46] Ibid.

[47] Kanaan, Ibid

[48] Clear all the way, H&C Leo Burnett Beirut. Bank Audi Retail. Production House: Wonderful, animation: Dadomani Studios, 2012. Available online: http://youtu.be/mc47n-dl0dc.

[49] Ibid. Production House: Bent Image Lab (Portland, US)

[50] Ibid. ‘Stop the suffering’ hair loss campaign, 2008

[51]  A mental health awareness campaign, by embrace fund, an awareness support network for mental health in Lebanon and the Middle East, affiliated with the Department of Psychiatry at the American University of Beirut Medical Center, and supported by the Ministry of Health. 2014. www.embracefund.org.

[52] Harris, William. Lebanon: A History 600-2011. New York, Oxford University Press, 2012, p. 194.

[53] Elias Muhanna. “Translating Frozen Into Arabic.” The New Yorker, 30 May 2014. Accessed online: 15 June 2014 <http://www.newyorker.com/books/page-turner/translating-frozen-into-arabic>.

[54] Nisaa' fil Qoran is a cartoon series broadcast on Future Television during the month of Ramadan 2014.

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