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Styled Archives: When MENA Celebrities Rocked Lace

Styled Archives: When MENA Celebrities Rocked Lace

CairoScene24-07-2025
Whether draped, sheer, or sculpted, lace became something sharper in these moments. A look back at how MENA icons made it anything but traditional.
Jul 24, 2025
In 2001, Fairuz performed in Kuwait City wearing a black lace gown, backed by a 48-piece orchestra. The look was spare and exacting. A year later, Samira Said opened the Dubai Shopping Festival in a lace-trimmed top and low-slung trousers, styled for early-2000s stage glamour. At her 2003 concert in Cairo, Haifa Wehbe wore sheer black lace, a jewel-studded belt, and smoky eyes. In 2004, Elissa performed in Kuwait City in white lace layered over a scarlet slip. Nancy Ajram's 2006 Muscat Festival look featured a flared lace skirt designed for movement. On the red carpet, lace remained precise. Lebleba wore it with shoulder bows at DIFF in 2008. In 2012, Najwa Karam appeared at Cannes in a white mermaid-cut lace gown. At CIFF in 2016, Elham Shahin wore black lace with sheer sleeves and a flowing skirt. In 2017, Laila Elwi paired velvet with a lace panelled skirt. Rym Saidi wore a hooded black lace cape to the 2023 Red Sea Film Festival. In 2024, Nelly Karim appeared at the Discobolo Awards in a lace corset, tailored trousers, and a long black coat.
These moments offer a cross-section of how lace has moved through stages and red carpets across the region - one fabric, countless statements. Fairuz | Kuwait City Concert (2001)
Performing with a 48-piece orchestra, Fairuz wore a black lace gown that matched the gravity of her voice; elegant and commanding. Samira Said | Dubai Shopping Festival (2002)
On stage in a lace top, Samira Said made delicate look commanding. It was early 2000s glamour with just enough edge to match the vocals. Haifa Wehbe | Cairo Concert (2003)
Serving goth glam before it was cool, Haifa hit the stage in black lace, smoky eyes, and a jewel-studded belt that cinched the whole look. Elissa | Eid Concert, Kuwait City (2004)
White lace over a scarlet slip, Elissa turned contrast into a statement. Soft, striking, and just a little impossible to look away from. Nancy Ajram | Muscat Festival (2006)
Nancy kept it sweet with a playful twist, letting lace take over from the waist down. Flirty, fun, and made to move with every beat. Lebleba | Dubai International Film Festival (2008)
Softened by shoulder bows and framed in lace, Lebleba's look was equal parts sweet and striking. A red carpet moment with old-school charm. Najwa Karam | "Vous N'avez Encore Rien Vu" Premiere (2012)
Wrapped in white lace and cut to a mermaid silhouette, Najwa Karam brought a Levantine flair to the Cannes red carpet with a look that was all poise and presence. Elham Shahin | Cairo International Film Festival (2016)
Lace traced the sleeves, cut through the bodice, and flowed into a sheer skirt below. Elham Shahin's 2016 look played with coverage and contrast, turning classic black lace into something confidently bold. Laila Elwi | Cairo International Film Festival (2017)
Laila Elwi took the red carpet in a velvet and lace gown that did elegance without effort. A sheer panel down the skirt gave the look movement, while the sculpted bodice kept it sharp and statuesque. Rym Saidi | Red Sea International Film Festival (2023)
Rym Saidi walked in draped in sheer black lace, hooded cape and all. Somewhere between haute couture and witchcraft. Nelly Karim | Discobolo Award, Rome (2024)
Lace corset, long black coat, and tailored pants. Nelly Karim showed up like a fashion noir heroine. Cool, controlled, and fully in charge.
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Ziad Rahbani (1956-2025): An endless legacy - Culture - Al-Ahram Weekly
Ziad Rahbani (1956-2025): An endless legacy - Culture - Al-Ahram Weekly

Al-Ahram Weekly

time5 days ago

  • Al-Ahram Weekly

Ziad Rahbani (1956-2025): An endless legacy - Culture - Al-Ahram Weekly

Few artists have shaped the cultural and political fabric of the Arab world quite like Ziad Rahbani, and his passing on 26 July registered among millions as a significant loss for the region's cultural heritage. A multi-talented composer, playwright and pianist as well as an outspoken political commentator, Ziad Rahbani was born in 1956 in Lebanon, in a home already marked by artistic greatness. The son of the legendary singer Fairuz (Nouhad Haddad), who turned 90 last year, and the late composer Assi Rahbani (1923–1986), Ziad inherited more than immense musical talent, he also absorbed an intense sensitivity, a sharp intellect, a critical eye, and a fearless voice for political dissent. His upbringing was steeped in the creative atmosphere shaped by the Rahbani Brothers — Assi and his brother Mansour Rahbani (1925–2009) — visionary composers from the town of Antelias, north of Beirut. Their legacy offered young Ziad not just influence and mentorship, but direct exposure to the intersection of music, theatre, and political thought from a staggeringly early age. No wonder Ziad started writing music so young; his first well-known public composition was Saalouni El-Nass (1973), performed by his mother Fairuz. From his early boundary-pushing, jazz-infused compositions to his provocative musical theatre, Rahbani emerged as the defining figure of a genre he referred to as 'Oriental jazz.' While he wasn't the first to use the label, his music transcended such classifications, fusing Eastern melodies and Lebanese folklore with Western structures in a way that was unmistakably his own. In doing so, he crafted a soundscape that was both rooted in tradition and daringly original. Rahbani's art defies creative perceptions and questions musical canons while his lyrics confront societal norms, all along capturing the pulse of Lebanese life during times of war, instability, change. Revolutionary and boldly visionary, he was also a romantic, with both qualities obvious throughout his creative life. Yet Rahbani was not so much a contradictory man but a deeply complex artist who carried within him a tangle of emotions: love and anger, clarity and confusion, tenderness and rebellion. He didn't resolve these tensions; he lived them, fully and unapologetically, channelling each into his music, theatre, writing. His work became a mirror of his inner world and the world that surrounded him; his creative voice was at times raw, at times refined, but always honest. His softer side shines through many of his songs. Who can find a more haunting and poetic piece than his over six-minute-long, slow-paced ballad Wahdon (On Their Own, 1979)? Performed by Fairuz, this meditation on solitude, memory, and loss, uses piano as protagonist, playing at the backdrop of a delicate fusion of Arabic music and jazz-influenced harmonic progressions. Is there anything more tender than Bala Wala Chi, an anthem of unconditional love so profoundly heartfelt in tone? Written with vulnerability and a quiet kind of longing, its music blends soft piano, jazz, and a minimal arrangement, to highlight the emotional weight. The song comes from Rahbani's iconic Houdou Nisbi (1985), an album that also features Khalas (It's Over), a soft adieu to love, wrapped in a ballad that drifts on soft airs of thoughtful jazz and Latin rhythms — his hallmark palette. Then there is Kifak Inta (How Are You, 1991), another emotionally charged classic among Fairuz's staple hits. While it may sound like a simple nostalgic air, many interpret its lyrics as an expression of Fairuz's pain over her son's departure. Who better than Rahbani to capture those feelings with such emotional subtlety and carefully measured lyricism? But the deeply melancholic face was just one of many facets of this profound artist. Rahbani was known for navigating the political turmoil, becoming the voice of resistance. Through the 1970s and 1980s his radio programmes were hugely influential in Lebanese culture, resonating with listeners trapped in Civil War, as he provided sharp commentary and reflection. Along parallel lines, many of Rahbani's compositions — particularly musical theatre, a form he wholly inhabited as playwright, composer, and lyricist — endure as profound reflections of his deeply rooted socio-political convictions. His reliance on Lebanese dialect was groundbreaking in making his work accessible and politically charged. In his Brechtian musical theatre, Rahbani made his voice unmistakably heard through works such as Sahriyya (An Evening's Celebration, 1973), Nuzl El-Surour (Happiness Hotel, 1974), and Bennesbeh Labokra Chou? (As for Tomorrow, What?, 1978) — the latter including eponymous music that joins jazz with Arabic and bossa rhythms. All those works were created before he had even seen his 22nd spring, and they earned him recognition, especially among his peers, a generation deeply affected by the unrest and violence of war. Far more than artistic expressions, Lebanon heard the voice of a young man full of hope, fighting for change, shedding light on the war, sectarianism, the devastation caused by conflict, political corruption, authoritarian regimes, but also the evils of capitalism, hypocrisy, neglect of the marginalised, and class disparity. His alternative, socially grounded theatre turned into a powerful critique of Lebanese civil society. In doing so, Rahbani transformed music and theatre, as he experimented with genres and forms. He courted sarcasm and a deep sense of irony intertwined with absurdism, factors that gave birth to the Rahbani style of theatre. One of that performance genre's poignant examples is Film Ameriki Tawil (A Long American Film), a play that premiered at Beirut's iconic Piccadilly Theatre in 1980. Set in a psychiatric institution in West Beirut, the play is filled with paradoxical dialogues echoing Beckett and Ionesco, with the characters trapped in the country's chaos. Two addicts, a disillusioned leftist intellectual, a nationalist, a war-time maniac militiaman, a man obsessed with uncovering 'foreign conspiracies', another fearing sectarian divisions, are among the characters who mirror Lebanon's fractured and dysfunctional post-war society. 'The events depicted in this play take place in October 1980 or October 1979 or October 1978, given that the overall political situation has generally remained unchanged.' So Rahbani commented on Film Ameriki Tawil years after its premiere. How prophetic this statement becomes when we realise that, in many ways, it is still valid nearly half a century later. The revolutionary or rather humane Rahbani continued to use his talent, in music and playwriting, to voice his views. The years to come were to see Shi Fashil (Failure, 1983) together with several changes including severe personal turmoil that only compelled Rahbani into detachment. He returned with Bikhsous Al-Karameh Wal-Shaab Al-Aaneed (On Dignity and Stubborn People, 1993), and Loula Fis'het Al-Amal (Little Hope, 1994). It was a time of a more nuanced exploration of alienation, existential doubt and the human cost of enduring conflict. The sarcasm and theatrical absurdity that once defined his plays could no longer be seen as artistic exaggerations; they had become accurate, even understated, reflections on the absurdity of the human systems he opposed. It was a time when the volatile years of a young man influenced by Marxism, his alignment with the Lebanese Communist Party (LCP), began slowly shifting towards disillusionment as he became increasingly critical of the ideological dogmatism that characterised the Lebanese and Arab left. As time passed, themes of existential introspection and isolation began to permeate his creative work. His musical journey also greatly benefitted from this personal development. If it was not for this journey, we would not have had Ila Assi (For Assi), released in 1995, an album which Ziad Rahbani created as a tribute to his father, the renowned Lebanese composer Assi Rahbani. In it, Ziad breathes new life into 18 classic songs composed by the Rahbani brothers, many performed by Fairuz. Undeniably, this work is among the greatest testimonies to the artistic legacies and personal lives of his father, who passed away in 1986 (after a 1972 stroke that marred the rest of his life), and to the whole family. Ila Assi is also one of the clear bridges that Ziad created between the golden era of his parents' generation and contemporary Lebanese music and social commentary, and one of his countless musical collaborations with his mother. Equally, Fairuz's albums Wahdon (On Their Own, 1979) and Maarifti Feek (1987) are among the greatest examples of the mother-son duo, where the Lebanese icon is artistically revitalised by her son's innovative vision, always marking a transformative chapter in both their journeys. The year of Ila Assi, another album, Bema Enno (Given That) was released, marking a continuation of Rahbani's partnership with Joseph Sakr, which began in the early 1970s through various theatrical productions and musical projects. The 14-track Bema Enno stands as a testament to their creative synergy, blending traditional Arabic rhythms and Lebanese folklore with contemporary sounds. It is yet another work that addresses struggles of identity, belonging and existential reflection, embedded in a mix of irony, melancholy and resilience. In his career, Rahbani embarked on several collaborations, with one of the most interesting being that with Lebanese vocalist Salma Al-Mosfi — resulting in Monodose, a 2001 album he produced. While the album marked a significant moment in Al-Mosfi's career, Rahbani poured his many influences into it. The 11-track work draws inspiration from French chanson and classic bossa nova, set within a mix of jazz and Arabic influences. Un verre chez nous (A Drink at Our Place), and Mish Bass Talfinly (It's Not Enough to Just Call Me) are undeniably the album's highlights, with the first being a French chanson toying with relaxed groove, the latter embedded in bossa nova. He paid another powerful tribute to his mother with Eh Fi Amal (Yes, There Is Hope, 2010), Fairuz's 99th studio album. Receiving both critical acclaim and commercial success, the album became especially important for both artists. With this work, the Lebanese icon reaffirmed her status as a musical legend, while for Rahbani, it highlighted the significance of his collaboration with his mother. It is a work that echoes themes of family, memory and personal history, beautifully capturing their intertwined lives. Though in recent years Rahbani stepped out of the public spotlight for the most part, whenever he reappeared at occasional performances on regional stages, curated jazz sessions and festivals (including in Egypt), he always mesmerised his listeners. Ziad Rahbani was a man wholly consumed by his passion for art. His sharp satire often made audiences laugh, his music soothed listeners while awakening their souls. To him laughter was a form of survival, but never an escape. His music was an extension of his being human. Whether navigating writing, composing, arrangements or theatre, there was one thing at his core: He lived through creation. Maybe like Beckett's Vladimir and Estragon, Rahbani quietly hoped for Godot to arrive, for the meaning, and while doing so, he left behind a legacy of profound awareness translated into art. Rahbani's influence runs deep through the work of countless Arab artists who both honour and expand his legacy. From Lebanese musicians like Mashrou' Leila, Yasmine Hamdan, Tania Saleh and Zeid Hamdan, to theatre-makers such as Rabih Mroué — whose work grapples with war, media, and memory — and the politically engaged Zoukak Theatre Company, Rahbani's spirit of artistic defiance and innovation lives on. Equally, it moves beyond Lebanon and enters the souls of artists from Egypt and other Arab countries. As Tania Saleh commented to the media, 'I believe it started with him, because he was already independent — of his family, of the Lebanese music scene, and even of the larger Arab world. His influences came from everywhere. He was a true first.' Rahbani's legacy transcends generations, echoing through today's traditional Arab works, the indie scene, underground hip-hop and theatrical experiments. His music is still performed, his lyrics memorised by heart, his sharp wit and emotional honesty inspiring artists across disciplines. For many, Rahbani remains a blueprint: blending Arabic music and folklore with jazz, political critique with poetic intimacy, and theatre with activism. His body of work is not only culturally essential, it is an open-ended legacy: uncannily relevant and unsettling as well as urgently alive. * A version of this article appears in print in the 6 August, 2025 edition of Al-Ahram Weekly Follow us on: Facebook Instagram Whatsapp Short link:

Lebanon, and Fairuz, bid iconic composer Ziad Rahbani farewell
Lebanon, and Fairuz, bid iconic composer Ziad Rahbani farewell

Al-Ahram Weekly

time29-07-2025

  • Al-Ahram Weekly

Lebanon, and Fairuz, bid iconic composer Ziad Rahbani farewell

Hundreds of people in Lebanon paid tribute Monday to iconic composer, pianist and playwright Ziad Rahbani, who died over the weekend. His mother, Fairuz, one of the Arab world's most esteemed singers, made a rare public appearance. Rahbani, also known as a political provocateur, died Saturday at age 69. The cause of death was not immediately known. His passing shocked much of the Arab world, which appreciated his satire, unapologetic political critique and avante-garde, jazz-inspired compositions that mirrored the chaos and contradictions of Lebanon throughout its civil war from 1975 until 1990. He also composed some of his mother's most famous songs. فيروز في وداع ابنها زياد Fayrouz bids farewell to her son Ziad — Annahar النهار (@Annahar) July 28, 2025 The Rahbani family was a cornerstone in Lebanon's golden era of music theater that today is steeped in idealism and nostalgia in a troubled country. Top Lebanese political officials and artists paid tribute after the death was announced. Rahbani, a leftist Greek Orthodox, often mocked Lebanon's sectarian divisions in his work. Hundreds of people holding roses and photos gathered by Khoury Hospital near Beirut's busy Hamra district, solemnly singing some of his most famous songs and applauding as a vehicle carrying his body left its garage. Reem Haidar, who grew up during the civil war, said Rahbani's songs and their messages were what she and others associated with at a time when there was 'no nation to belong to.' The vehicle made its way to a church in the mountainous town of Bikfaya before burial in the family cemetery. Fairuz, 90, had spent many years away from the public eye. Wearing black sunglasses and a black veil, she greeted visitors who came to pay respects. She had not been seen publicly since photos surfaced of her meeting with French President Emmanuel Macron, who visited her residence in 2020 to award her France's highest medal of honor. In recent years, Rahbani also appeared less in the public eye, yet his influence never waned. Younger generations rediscovered his plays online and sampled his music in protest movements. He continued to compose and write, speaking often of his frustration with Lebanon's political stagnation and decaying public life. Rahbani is survived by his mother and his sister Reema and brother Hali. Follow us on: Facebook Instagram Whatsapp Short link:

Lebanon bids iconic composer Ziad Rahbani farewell
Lebanon bids iconic composer Ziad Rahbani farewell

Al-Ahram Weekly

time29-07-2025

  • Al-Ahram Weekly

Lebanon bids iconic composer Ziad Rahbani farewell

Hundreds of people in Lebanon paid tribute Monday to iconic composer, pianist and playwright Ziad Rahbani, who died over the weekend. His mother, Fairuz, one of the Arab world's most esteemed singers, made a rare public appearance. Rahbani, also known as a political provocateur, died Saturday at age 69. The cause of death was not immediately known. His passing shocked much of the Arab world, which appreciated his satire, unapologetic political critique and avante-garde, jazz-inspired compositions that mirrored the chaos and contradictions of Lebanon throughout its civil war from 1975 until 1990. He also composed some of his mother's most famous songs. The Rahbani family was a cornerstone in Lebanon's golden era of music theater that today is steeped in idealism and nostalgia in a troubled country. Top Lebanese political officials and artists paid tribute after the death was announced. Rahbani, a leftist Greek Orthodox, often mocked Lebanon's sectarian divisions in his work. Hundreds of people holding roses and photos gathered by Khoury Hospital near Beirut's busy Hamra district, solemnly singing some of his most famous songs and applauding as a vehicle carrying his body left its garage. Reem Haidar, who grew up during the civil war, said Rahbani's songs and their messages were what she and others associated with at a time when there was 'no nation to belong to.' The vehicle made its way to a church in the mountainous town of Bikfaya before burial in the family cemetery. Fairuz, 90, had spent many years away from the public eye. Wearing black sunglasses and a black veil, she greeted visitors who came to pay respects. She had not been seen publicly since photos surfaced of her meeting with French President Emmanuel Macron, who visited her residence in 2020 to award her France's highest medal of honor. In recent years, Rahbani also appeared less in the public eye, yet his influence never waned. Younger generations rediscovered his plays online and sampled his music in protest movements. He continued to compose and write, speaking often of his frustration with Lebanon's political stagnation and decaying public life. Rahbani is survived by his mother and his sister Reema and brother Hali. Follow us on: Facebook Instagram Whatsapp Short link:

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