ELIE KHOURI THE AD MAN 78 ART PATRON I n the top floor office of a six-storey building in Dubai Media City sits a CEO known in some circles as one of the region’s godfathers of media. Across a 10-metre wall in the building’s basement is the commissioned graffiti work of British street artists. At 50, and in his trademark dark- rimmed glasses, Elie Khouri beams a boyish grin when humbled or asked a difficult question. The gesture is telling for the man who runs the Middle East and North Africa’s Omnicom Media Group (OMG), a global advertising, marketing and corporate communications holding company. Even more telling is what Khouri chooses to surround himself with: pieces from his 200-strong collection of Contemporary art. Not to mention design objects too. Within his minimalist white-lacquered workspace are burnt-brown leather chairs and sofas, whose artistry he is quick to point out, indicating that craftsmanship is a penchant of his. These Italian goods sit amongst sculptures and installations by Arne Quinze, Velasco Vitali, Diederick Kraaijeveld, David Buckingham and Peter Klasen. However, these artworks – some 50 of which belong to OMG thanks to a scheme initiated by Khouri three years ago – are only a handful of a collection that hangs in the hallways, foyers, landings and offices on each floor (Zakaria Ramhani, Olaf Breuning and Cedric Bouteiller, for example, accompanied by complete wall captions). “My job is to offer 250 employees a happy atmosphere filled with beautiful artworks; we are a creative environment after all,” he says matter-of-factly. This from a media man who refers to people as “brands”. It’s an advertising thing: “Art helps us articulate our brand better; it allows individuals to share their personality with others better to facilitate understanding, connections and interactions; personally, I seek artists who are brands behind their work,” says Khouri. “Craftsmanship” is another favourite word and he chuckles when he realises that he’s said it too often. He is the kind of enthusiast who gazes at the light radiating through a slab of Carrara marble in a hotel lobby; the kind of collector who regularly rotates Myrna Ayad meets Elie Khouri, a regional media mogul whose entry into the world of Contemporary art was, in his own words, “a state of mind”. Five years later, the Lebanese collector is still keen on surrounding himself, and others, with art. 79 Opening spread: Elie Khouri at the OMG offices in Dubai with (on his right) Arnaud Rivieren’s Blue Network. 2011. Electrical wires. 85 x 85 x 8 cm and (on his left) David Buckingham’s Gun . 2013. Hand-cut and welded found metal. Variable dimensions. Photography by Marvin Caibal. Image courtesy Capital D Studio, Dubai. This page: Fernando and Humberto Campana. Brass Sushi Buffet 2011. Brass, carpet, rubber, EVA and fabric and estela handcrafted in partially covered sushi rolls. 66 x 200 x 40 cm. Facing page: Shepard Fairey. Duality Of Humanity 2. 2008. Mixed media on paper. 110 x 151 cm. artworks at work and at home; the kind of boss who encourages success amongst his staff. “This company’s culture is based on people disseminating success; this is not just about being successful, but to ensure that others are successful too,” asserts Khouri. THE ART PERSONA It was a fondness for craftsmanship and an ame- nability to aesthetics that attracted him to Nadim Karam’s elephant sculptures about five years ago over lunch at a friend’s home in Beirut. Three play- ful steel pachyderms later, Khouri owns several of the Lebanese architect-cum-artist’s paintings, drawings and sculptures. However, it would not be entirely fair to attribute Khouri’s foray into the Contemporary art (and design) arena to Karam’s iconic elephants. He says “there were many firsts” and insists that the passion for “beautiful things” was innate, yet dormant, until in 2010, after years of exhausting 15-hour-work-days, he arrived not at a particular situation, but rather, at “a state of mind”. It was at this climax that the proverbial piñata exploded and with it, a voracious appetite for art was let loose. “I guess I realised that there’s more to life than work and that you need hob- bies,” he recalls. And off he marched, to design fairs in Italy, Frieze in London, Art Basel Miami Beach, Art Dubai, Design Days Dubai, Abu Dhabi “I am impulsive. I don’t take time to make a decision.” 80 Art and galleries the world over. “I am impulsive,” admits Khouri, who claims to be a “fair” negotia- tor. “I don’t take time to make a decision.” This is another advertising thing: impulse, and with it, the urge to follow through, bring to pass, sign off. Auctions are a perfect feeding ground here and he enjoys them tremendously. Art, Khouri says “is a constant” in his globetrot- ting life. So is Emirates Airline. He concedes that he can act like “a spoilt kid” when he doesn’t get an artwork (or objet ) that he wants: “It’s ridiculous to be on a waitlist!” and “I have sleepless nights when I don’t get it!” and “I’ll pay more!” But his humility constantly comes to the fore: “I do ac- cept it after being disappointed, but I always tell myself ‘Elie, you will always see beautiful things’,” he says. In the CEO’s office is a pensive Albert Einstein rendered on a 200 x 180 cm canvas by Spanish artist Lita Cabellut. “Even this genius looks mistaken,” laughs Khouri. It is a candid hint to his art-orientation. He enjoys the witty and the hu- morous on the one hand, and the symbolic and the meaningful on the other. Case in (former) point are Buckingham’s Gun , the artist’s take on the history and present relationship that America has with weapons; and Shepard Fairey’s Duality Of Humanity 2 , which addresses the fight between good and evil, exemplified in the flower on a child soldier’s beret and the Kalashnikov that he holds. Interestingly, Khouri owns other ‘guns’ – Justine Smith’s Instruments Of State – Myanmar , from the Weapons series of banknote-wrapped guns and grenades that tackle money as an agent of pow- er; and Breuning’s gun drawn on paper, whose “It [the Lebanese Civil War] is why I am here. It was tough, but then you need tough things in life.” 81 ART PATRON projectile reads ‘I Hate Violence’. They are not violent works, but they most definitely address a small, but crucial faction of Khouri’s collection and facet of his personality: the Lebanese Civil War. “It’s why I am here,” he says. “It was tough, but then you need tough things in life.” THE ART OF RESOLUTION He was the kid who lived in Ashrafieh, a Beirut district then overrun by political blocs, members of whom Khouri befriended and naively thought would safeguard the neighbourhood, only to find out later that casualties of war are not just about bodies, but values too. “I took it as a learning curve, but imagine being a young witness to pure ugliness, walking home and trying to figure out if the sound of that bomb is coming or going and seeing corpses hooked up to and then dragged by a pick-up truck,” says Khouri. It was during this time that his entrepreneurial streak first flickered, when he sold fireworks and canned foods. Speaking of food, he believes it is perhaps his earliest exposure to the arts and is owed to his father, who was a chef at the Casino du Liban. Khouri stood by his old man, watching textures thicken, colours transform and aromas diffuse. “There is art in food,” he insists. He was then the teen who dodged sniper bullets fired from Burj El-Murr, an abandoned 36-storey tower, which was operated by militias, guerrilla forces and occupying armies due to its strategic loca- This page: Left: Lonnke Gordijn and Ralph Nauta. Fragile Future 3.10. 2010. Dandelion seed heads, bronze, LEDs and Perspex. 117 x 33 x 33 cm. Right: Nadim Karam. Flower Elephant . 2011. Stainless steel sculpture with super shiny finish. 70 x 92 x 10 cm. Facing page: Elie Khouri with (on the wall) Diederick Kraaijeveld’s Yellow Ferrari. 2008. Coloured vintage wood. 120 x 86 cm and (on the floor) Peter Klasen. NGK Table . 2013. Mixed media, Plexiglas and glass. 35 x 101 x 125 cm. Photography by Marvin Caibal. Image courtesy Capital D Studio, Dubai. 82 ART PATRON “They say that today’s lead- ers have to have vision. But I think they need a mix of vision and intuition.” tion in downtown Beirut. For all Lebanese who survived the war, it remains a permanent phan- tom, an emblem of terror. But decades after this gore, and thanks to his resolve, Khouri holds no grudges and it is these experiences that may help explain his philanthropy – he is known to bid gen- erously at charity auctions. After all this time and all this carnage, he is delighted to see Burj El-Murr, that fortress of doom, rendered against a bright floral pattern, recontextualised by Lebanese artist Ayman Baalbaki in what seems to Khouri at least, as a reconciliation with a bygone era. That work is among the ones that got away, but Ossama Baalbaki’s 2009 acrylic on canvas of a scorched Mercedes – another phantom of the war – is one which didn’t. It certainly preserves and recalls a memory in much the same way that Joana Had- jithomas and Khalil Joreige’s burned negative of Beirut in its heyday does. “I’m glad I got that one,” he says of the duo’s Wonder Beirut series. A Bachelor’s and Master’s from the American University of Beirut later, Khouri found himself enjoying the silence on his Nicosia balcony in 1988, embarking on what were his early days as an ad man. After brief stints in Paris and Manama, he settled in Dubai in 1991, where he has been based since. “Advertising and art are about com- municating ideas beautifully so that when the consumer gets that idea, there’s magic,” he says with a snap of his fingers. THE CONTENT TRAVELLER Like all advertising men, Khouri likes a good story 83 ART PATRON This page: David LaChapelle. Burning Down The House . 1996. Photograph. 180 x 246 cm. Edition three of three. Facing page: Nabil Nahas. So Happy To See You. 2002. Acrylic on canvas. 84 x 72 cm. All images courtesy Elie Khouri, unless otherwise specified. and with his collecting hobby, this can sometimes take the form of a blockbuster (for example, Keith Haring, Andy Warhol and George Condo) or a good read. It is those of the latter, which Khouri and collectors alike take risks with, that ‘next best thing’. For him, however, the green light on specu- lation is intuition. “They say that today’s leaders have to have vision,” he explains. “But I think they need a mix of vision and intuition.” Either way, Khouri is a businessman who likes to make a good investment. He also likes big artworks. “Maybe it’s a masculine thing,” he laughs, but insists on art pos- sessing “presence and impact”. Ironically, for a man whose professional man- tra is concerned with strategy, Khouri’s collection was not conceived with any long-term objec- tives. It was and always will be, pure, utter joy. It was an Excel sheet that contains thumbnails and information about his various acquisitions that told him he was a collector. More specifically, it was the column titled ‘price’. As far as numbers are concerned, Khouri would be happy knowing that by the time he bequeaths his collection to his family, its value would have amplified. Before an inheritance, however, he’d like to see more government support in a local art scene that “feels a little scattered” and is keen on educat- ing people about the arts. Khouri has gone so far as to imagine setting up a non-profit exhibition space to showcase his collection, but that idea hasn’t teethed yet. And besides, he wants to sell a few pieces that he has outgrown because his taste has evolved. “I’m still seeking perfection,” explains Khouri. “I’m still looking for the best, for the thing I like most.” That’s another advertising thing: the next best campaign.