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Basel Zaraa
Any personal Palestinian story is linked to History, whether one thinks, for example, of the Balfour Declaration (1917) or the Nakba (1948).
However, these are events that are disembodied and objectified in the name of historical science, which everyone becomes acquainted with from their couch, in front of their television, within their own home.
"Dear Leila" reminds the viewer that it is indeed about them, about their own history.
The intimacy of the home serves as a reminder that war is everywhere, and that while it may be political at first, it inexorably penetrates the interiors of homes.
Thus, the viewer is introduced into a home that they discover.
A home that could be theirs. A home that becomes theirs. Indeed, in this immersive 15-minute experience lived in solitude, the viewer becomes Laila, the five-year-old daughter of the artist.
Rejuvenated, they cannot remember their family history. Basel assists them: the child-viewer is confronted with the miniature reconstruction of the artist-father's house, originally from the Syrian Yarmouk camp, from which the family was forced to flee. While, like any child, the viewer questions their family history, clues are gradually offered to them through a multiplicity of media.
This is reminiscent of the process of identity quest: the past is sometimes stubborn, does not necessarily leave traces: one must therefore grasp onto any source that is offered.
Therefore, it is about investigating while relying on audio, a model, or even photos brought back by the artist's father, the only family member to have returned to the scene.
These sources are personified, it is the story of one family among others, at the same time as the story of all families. In other words, it is about engaging one's senses to approach a theme that is otherwise devoid of them.
Temporalities overlap in this recreated space yet outside of time: the immediacy of the experience is associated with the past, as it is told to the viewer-child, who discovers the childhood home of their father, sharing memories with him.
The model of the house, sometimes built with the child, also precedes the immersive experience. The future is also invoked, because exile will not stop as long as the destruction of homes destroyed by wars continues.
Each will thus leave this office with salt. The artist's grandmother used to put salt on his head to protect him from harm. Each will thus be able to protect the members of the household we inhabit more, and that we call « humanity ».
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