This project, “Live, Love, Refugee,” examines the mental state of Syrian refugees in Lebanon, asking how relations and dreams are affected by conflict and displacement. It is a visual evocation of the pain and desire of Syrians who struggle to survive in their new land. The people I met are in the worst possible conditions, but they have the desire to continue being human. I chose to make complex photographs, employing symbolism and surrealism, in an attempt to approach the psychological situation of my subjects. I wanted to disrupt the audience’s expectations of images of refugees and to present them with questions rather than answers. For me this is the best way to express this horrible experience. It gives viewers the ability to imagine horrific and over-photographed (but under-seen) cases like the Syrian situation, where every related story is a copy of a copy of a copy. I like to surprise the audience without being aggressive, avoiding the low hanging fruit of political reaction and focus instead on a deeper human perspective.
“My wife is blind…I tell her the stories of her favorite TV series and sometimes change the script to create a better atmosphere for her.”
"زوجتي عمياء... أخبرها قصص مسلسلها التلفزيوني المفضّل وأغيّر السيناريو في بعض الأحيان لأخلق لها جوّاً أفضل."
“There was only grass. I couldn't pass it through my throat, but I forced myself to swallow it in front of the children so they would accept it as food.”
"لم يكن هناك سوى العشب. لم يسع حلقي ازدراده، إلا إنني أجبرت نفسي على بلعه أمام أولادي كي يقبلوه طعاماً."
“But at least before we divorced he was useful in keeping harassers away from me and my daughters.”
"قبل أن نتم طلاقنا كان مفيداً على الأقل في إبعاد المتحرشين عني وعن بناتي."
“For a moment, I felt like we were talking to a car technician - not a doctor. We are refugees, but we are still human.”
"لوهلةٍ، أحسست كأنني أتحدث إلى ميكانيكي لا طبيب. نحن لاجئون، لكننا أيضاً بشر."
“I was afraid when it was calm, when they checked to see who had passed away and who was injured. I felt safer in the midst of the shelling. I preferred to sing or listen to music when it was calm.”
"كنت أخاف حين يهدأ كل شيء، حين يتفقدون الموتى من الجرحى. كنت أشعر بالأمان أثناء القصف. كنت أفضّل الغناء أو الاستماع إلى الموسيقى حين تهدأ الأوضاع."
“I wish to become a dragon and to burn the scarves and everything in that tent.”
"وددت لو أصبح تنيناً ينفث لهيبه ليحرق الأوشحة وكل شيء في تلك الخيمة."
“Now that we’re in the camp, she brings home the food. Our testicles are in danger.”
"ها وقد صرنا بالمخيم، تأتي بالطعام إلى المنزل. خصياتنا في خطر."
“In Lebanon, I found myself in narrow places. I start feeling anxious now when I am in an open space.”
"في لبنان وجدت نفسي في الأمكنة الضيقة. أشعر بالقلق الآن كلما كنت في مكان مفتوح."
“In Lebanese society we are outsiders and it doesn’t matter that we are not married. We were not able to have the same privacy in Syria.”
"نحن دخلاء من وجهة نظر المجتمع اللبناني، كوننا عزّاباً لا يغير من الأمر شيئاً. لم يعد لدينا نفس الخصوصية كما في سوريا."
“The gap between me and my memories from Syria is becoming bigger. I’m afraid of the blankness.”
"الفجوة بيني وبين ذكرياتي في سوريا تغدو أكبر. أخشى الخواء."
“Through this project, I was able to rediscover my story through their stories. I’m a Syrian refugee myself, and we are making one team.”
"خلال هذا المشروع، تمكّنت من إعادة اكتشاف قصتي من خلال قصصهم. أنا شخصياً لاجئ سوري، وسوياً نصنع فريقاً واحداً."
Omar Imam is a Beirut-based, Syrian photographer and filmmaker. In his photographic works, Imam uses irony and a conceptual approach to respond to the violent situation in Syria and he often has to publish his work under a pseudonym. After leaving Damascus in late 2012, he began making fictional short films that often focus on the Syrian refugee experience. Individually and with NGOs, he has produced films, photography projects, and workshops for Syrian refugees in Lebanon.
Omar Imam is a Beirut-based, Syrian photographer and filmmaker. In his photographic works, Imam uses irony and a conceptual approach to respond to the violent situation in Syria and he often has to publish his work under a pseudonym. After leaving Damascus in late 2012, he began making fictional short films that often focus on the Syrian refugee experience. Individually and with NGOs, he has produced films, photography projects, and workshops for Syrian refugees in Lebanon.