The architect Bernard Khoury returned to Beirut in the 1990s full of optimism about the reconstruction of his home town after 15 years of crushing civil war. ‘To me Beirut was the most interesting laboratory in the world, the most dynamic city on earth,’ he explains. But his dream of being part of the promised culturally sensitive regeneration effort was never quite realised. ‘In fact,’ he says, ‘I believe that the disillusion and the outcome of the conflict has been more problematic than the conflict itself.’
The spacious double-height living area features a glass wall – which can slide away – facing an astounding view to the south of Beirut (Photo: Andreas Von Einsiedel)
Khoury, who studied architecture at the Rhode Island School of Design and has a master’s in architectural studies from Harvard, is a co-founder of the Arab Center for Architecture and established his own practice in 1993. He talks wistfully about the planned rebuilding of Beirut and how it was intended to create a sophisticated capital in the Middle East, but through a combination of national politics, impotent public bodies and intermittent violence it has not happened. The private sector took over, architecture competitions ceased and no public debate was held.
Work was hard to come by but Khoury made his name building clubs and restaurants – B018, Yabani, Centrale – which became hotspots. Innumerable defeats and aborted projects were the result of his resistance to the prevailing poor standards, by which only financial viability ruled and lacklustre, inappropriate design was the norm. Beirut was – and still is – being crammed with gloomy, introverted apartment buildings with poorly ventilated interiors and dusty little balconies. Now Khoury has an international profile, driven in part by his ability to create alliances with the growing number of enlightened entrepreneurs in the region and build standout projects.
The double-height living space. The floor above has a glass screen, behind which are the children’s quarters (Photo: Andreas Von Einsiedel)
His own home is the perfect showcase for his aesthetic. Eschewing sea views and facing south, towards the sprawling city, the building sits on a formerly abandoned, very narrow plot beside the infamous Damascus Road, once the line between East and West Beirut. ‘A friend bought it years ago for very little and it appealed to me that it was neither in the East nor the West, and also that it is surrounded by low-level university buildings, cemeteries, churches and the French embassy, so there was no chance of building up close.’
Khoury shares the home – which covers three floors of the nine-storey building – with his wife, Nathalie, who works at Beirut Art Center, and their children, Teymour, 15, and Lilas, 11. The top floor features a pool, a pair of giant light fixtures and a raised outdoor dining area with sweeping views of the city, but Khoury insists ‘it is not a penthouse’.
The bridge across the front entrance enchances the feeling of floating above the city. The cabinets on two sides of the living room are on wheels (Photo: Andreas Von Einsiedel)
One arrives in a lift, straight into the spectacular main living space, where a front-facing glass wall retracts to leave only a balcony walkway with a waist-height glass barrier. Similarly, there is only a glass screen around the pool. A steel mesh ‘bridge’ allows access across the room at mezzanine level. This is not a home for the faint-hearted.
A simple kitchen on the main floor features pale marble worktops, and behind the living space is a cloakroom and master bedroom. A bathroom is set beyond an oak-clad bedhead, which acts as a screen. The children’s rooms and bathrooms are tucked away on the floor above.
The master suite, which is behind the living area, extends the width of the property (Photo: Andreas Von Einsiedel)
Nathalie says that once she got used to the idea of the unconventional shell her husband designed, she told him she was happy to go along with it on one condition: that she could furnish the interior without interference. Her choice of furniture includes contemporary pieces such as a modular sofa by the Italian design polymath Piero Lissoni and vintage mid-century classics by the likes of Hans Wegner. It makes for a stylish mix.
The backdrop Khoury has created was made using traditional materials – wood, steel and plaster – in a modern fashion, and he mentions his pride in Lebanese skills often. ‘All the interior woodwork and some of the furniture here was made by Doumit Tannous, a local carpenter,’ he says. ‘My grandfather was a carpenter and my father was an architect and furniture designer, so there’s a sense of continuing a family tradition.’
Despite subtle nods to the past, the home feels like a dramatic, exciting and forward-looking response to the still-broken city below. As Khoury says, ‘I may not be able to change what’s happening in Beirut now, but this house is my vision of what it could be in the future.’
