64 C ut off mid- sentence, a stern look washes over Nohad Machnouk’s face as he answers his incessantly ringing phone. “Yes?” he asks hurriedly, eyebrows furrowed. His wife Layla whispers to me, “Watch his face when the call ends”. The tense facial expression immediately recedes and Machnouk returns to the jovial, light- hearted art enthusiast he was just a moment ago. Over the course of our four-hour interview, NARRATIVES AND NATIONALISM The Beirut-based couple takes pride in a deep sense of Arab nationalism, which also extends to their collection. Myrna Ayad meets Nohad and Layla Machnouk in Beirut and discusses art, identity and politics. the dichotomy between his zeal for art and his profession as a politician becomes crystal clear. “I know,” he smiles in acknowledgement, “My whole mood changes; I mean, compare a meeting with a Prime Minister with a discussion on art, wouldn’t your mood differ?” he asks. Nohad has done much to fuse the realms of art and politics: during his tenure as Senior Political and Media Advisor for former Prime Minister Rafic Hariri’s government, he commissioned celebrated Lebanese artist Amine El-Bacha to create the logos for the Lebanese Parliamentary Elections as well as for Hariri’s Solidere, the real estate firm responsible for Beirut’s planning and redevelopment. In addition, he secured the acquisition of artworks by some of Lebanon’s preeminent artists for display at the Ottoman- style Grand Serail governmental palace. Nohad, – along with Hariri's art advisor, the late Rima Takieddine – has also ensured that heads of state NOHAD AND LAYLA MACHNOUK 65 ART PATRON “I am an Arab nationalist and this belief extends to my collection.” Nohad Machnouk and dignitaries are gifted artworks by Lebanese masters during state visits. “Politicians sometimes find my passion for art bizarre, questioning what my conversations with artists entail,” he laughs. “As a politician, you need to listen and analyse; as an art lover, you need to do the same.” GROUND WORK Interestingly, his fervour for Arab art began over three decades ago at the start of his career as a journalist specialising in the Arab- Israeli conflict. While in the line of duty, Nohad frequented some of the region’s most politically heated capitals – Cairo, Damascus and Baghdad to name a few – and always made the time to visit exhibitions and meet with each country’s cultural intelligentsia. “Iraq had an incredibly vibrant art scene at the time,” recalls Nohad. “I was a firsthand witness to these environments. I knew the cultural ‘coteries’ of each country and I’d accompany them to shows to hear their comments and later debate ideas.” He went so far as to visit artists in their studios and acquire works by the likes of Iraq’s Mohammed Ghani Hikmat, Layla Al-Attar and Qutaiba Al-Sheikh Nouri, Egypt’s Adam Henein and Syria’s Mustafa Ali, among many others. Indeed, the couple’s collection boasts pieces by some of the Arab This page: Two works by Samir Sayegh. (Left) Hiya and (right) Huwa . 2003. Ink on carboard. 60 x 60 cm each. Facing page: Nohad and Layla Machnouk in their Beirut home with works by (on the wall) Mohammad El-Rawas. Souk Al-Afranj. 1974. Oil on canvas. 159 x 129 cm; (on the chimney, left) Ismail Fattah. Ishq . 1986. Bronze. 36 x 21 x 9 cm; (on the chimney, right) two works by Mohammad Ghani Hikmat. Untitled. 1993–94. 12 x 8 cm each. Photography by Mansour Dib. 66 “I’m a politician. I don’t understand the nature of investments and what they entail, but with time, I came to realise that art is a great investment.” Nohad Machnouk world’s most renowned Modern artists and reads like a visual history of the Middle East. “I am an Arab nationalist,” he asserts. “And this belief extends to my collection.” Unsurprisingly, the theme of politics features in some of the works, not solely due to the region’s tumultuous reality but also in terms of an extension of Nohad’s profession as a Member of Parliament. “Look at these paintings by Louay Kayyali,” he says, motioning to a wall where four works from the 1970s by the Syrian master hang. “He drew the poorer class and in doing so, inadvertently criticised the regime.” Near the Kayyali quartet is Al- Mulatham , a 2007 acrylic painting of a martyr by Lebanese artist Ayman Baalbaki, one of the first Contemporary artworks that the couple bought. Nohad roars with laughter when I tell him that Baalbaki is currently working on a series of portraits of the Vendetta Group inspired by the infamous Guy Fawkes mask used in protests against tyranny. “The martyr is a very important symbol,” explains Nohad. “I knew the fidayeen (Arab commandos or guerrillas) personally when I was a journalist and this work is the only one I believe Baalbaki made that features a Kalashnikov.” Layla laughs: “Nohad had it hung in his office at first and I told him to bring it home; at work, it can have different interpretations, while at home, it’s art as it should be.” THE ART OF DIVERSITY Though he frequents exhibitions in Beirut and elsewhere, Nohad maintains that the nature of his ART PATRON 67 This page: Nohad and Layla Machnouk in their living room with a 19th century Barbarian gun box and (on the cabinet) a collection of Ottoman and Persian derwish tarbouches and kashkouls ; and a 500-year-old Holy Qu'ran. Photography by Mansour Dib. Facing page: Adam Henein. Sheikh El- Balad. 1974. Bronze. 57 x 25 x 15 cm. job vis-à-vis the region’s political atmosphere over the last few years has not afforded him the time to visit as many shows as he would like. This leaves Layla with the task of “reporting back” after visiting fairs, biennials and gallery exhibitions. “After every auction of Middle Eastern art, you’ll find us up late at night studying artworks and hammer prices,” she says. The couple seldom buy at auction, preferring instead to acquire artworks from galleries or artists directly. The decision-making process is sometimes aided by “advisors who have become close friends” says Nohad, citing Beirut-based Agial Gallery’s Saleh Barakat and Ghiath Machnouk of Damascus’s Art House. Hanging artworks, however, is a painstaking practice in the Machnouk home, which, says Layla, involves a lot of “trial and error” and thematic consideration. From the start, Nohad’s collecting habits were inspired by a pure appreciation for art and were never influenced by asset value, though he is amazed by the figures attained for Middle Eastern works and is wary of the “commercial aspect” of the art arena. “I’m a politician,” he says. “I don’t understand the nature of investments and what they entail, but with time, I came to realise that art is a great investment.” Nohad’s buying approach is instant and he says Layla, who also paints, is more cautious and contemplative as she takes into account shipping and space for their two Lebanese residences and Nohad’s office. The mother of one with a background in the television industry and a passion for Modern art credits her husband for infusing in her a deep passion for Arab art for which she has taken courses in the genre. The couple’s collection, however, is not limited to Modern and Contemporary Arab art but also extends to Persian carpets and Islamic art and artefacts from all over the world, lending their Beirut duplex an eclectic mix of different eras. “It’s funny,” muses Nohad. “Collecting 68 ART PATRON 69 becomes a memoire, a travel journal.” In the salon hangs a 1974 oil painting by Lebanese artist Mohammad El-Rawas above a 19th century marble chimney bought in Buenos Aires; in the adjacent space is a room filled with Islamic manuscripts, calligraphic works, textiles and Ottoman headwear. “I never saw one like it again” – a favourite Nohad statement – is reiterated each time he walks to an artwork or object and excitedly narrates its history as well as the colourful circumstances surrounding its purchase. “Every single piece has a story,” adds Layla. The couple actively seek art and culture on trips abroad and often acquire objects that are aesthetically beautiful, “but which we always find a function for” says Nohad, pointing to an ornamental box from Seoul which he has transformed into a humidor. “His overseas official meetings are short and packed with appointments,” adds Layla, who sometimes attends such trips, “but you should see the accompanying cultural schedule that is equally packed!” CULTURAL AGENDA Architecture is another passion of Nohad’s, and one which, in 1994, led him and a friend to acquire an Ottoman-style house built in 1820 in Beirut. The mansion features four-metre-high ceilings adorned with Iznik This spread: Four paintings by Louay Kayyali. (From left to right) The Argileh Smoker . 1971. Oil on canvas. 80 x 100 cm; Cotton Collectors . 1976. Oil on canvas. 120 x 90 cm; The Fisherman . 1974. Oil on canvas. 75 x 95 cm; Boy Selling Sweets 1974. Oil on canvas. 60 x 76 cm. Photography by Mansour Dib. ART PATRON 70 ART PATRON “Beirut should be a stronger centre of art in the region. What the Gulf States have done to promote art and culture is commendable.” Layla Machnouk 71 ART PATRON This page: A view of the Machnouk home with (left) Ayman Baalbaki's Al-Mulatham . 2007. Acrylic on canvas. 148 x 198 cm; and (right) an untitled work by Ismail Fattah. 2000. Oil on canvas. 147 x 198 cm. Facing page: Above: Aref Rayess. Untitled. 1974. Oil on canvas. 120 x 120 cm. Below: Adel El-Siwi. Blue Eyes . 2008. Oil on canvas. 100 x 140 cm. Photography by Albert Saikaly unless otherwise specified. tiles, an elaborate 18th century wooden door from Egypt and an antique Turkish chimney. Now refurbished and rented out, Nohad has considered placing his collection in the house one day and opening it up to the public, much in the same vein that the couple loans artworks, particularly those from the Modern Arab strand of their collection, to major exhibitions. “Lebanon has all the raw material – history, tradition, nature, culture and language,” he says. “But it needs time and better political circumstances in order to flourish.” Aside from a calmer political climate, Nohad emphasises the role that Lebanese corporations ought to play as patrons of the arts, and goes on to praise the recently established Rose and Shaheen Saleeby Museum at the American University of Beirut. The gallery’s inaugural show featured a collection of works by Khalil Saleeby, donated by his descendant Dr Samir Saleeby and for which the Machnouks lent a painting by the founding father of Lebanese Modernism. “I am really so proud of our culture,” insists Nohad. “But I do feel that some Arab artists have not been given the recognition that they deserve.” The couple cite the improvement of the annual Beirut Art Fair over the years, noting the benefits of cultural exchange through the varied participating galleries. “Beirut should be a stronger centre of art in the region,” says Layla. “What the Gulf States have done to promote art and culture is commendable.” In the background, Nohad’s phone keeps ringing, only this time, it’s an urgent call. The same facial expressions appear and disappear. “Politics doesn’t let your mind rest,” he says flatly. “I do get tired, but right now, especially after this discussion, I feel we need a proper Ministry of Culture and a museum of Contemporary Lebanese art. I have ideas and I want to implement them.”