Zicco House is much more than just the poetry readings and concerts at the Samra Bar: it’s a launch-pad for the country’s most prominent movements, and has become a hub for thinkers and dissidents who dream of change. Mustafa Zicco relates.
You’re mostly known for Zicco House, on Spears…
Well yes. Zicco House is not just a project, Zicco House is a way of life that manifested in a building. I live here. I like to live in a specific way and my house became a place for like-minded individuals. This was even more apparent in the war. We were one of the first places that were able to counter-attack, in a sense. We helped as much as possible and I emphasize the ‘we’. I built the place but then the people did work. This is important to remember; civil initiative can change the country.
And you initially did what, charity?
No, my initial efforts were always educational and cultural. But at the same time, I’m part of all these committees that deal with the environment, democracy and charities.
So how does it all work?
The organizations that were seeded here are well known now, on their own accord. They’ve succeeded, and some of them have political representation now. You have to believe that you can do something and you have to realize that in order to make people fight for their country, you have to give them a lifestyle they love and want to protect. You have to give them a place to love.
What’s your favorite place in then?
All of Beirut is my favorite place. All the times in Beirut are my favorite times.
I know you’ve specialized in education, correct?
The idea 15 years ago was that education should be policy, in other words we wanted to set educational policies and create educational movements. We wanted to find the weaknesses in education and create entities to take care of them, and these beliefs are why Beirut has been able to develop educationally – no small feat considering what we’ve been through. We’re on par with the top internationals: our films are in the best festivals, our arts in the finest galleries. Beirut remains attractive internationally and competitive, despite the negative side of Beirut. And we try to keep the balance.
What balance is that?
For instance when Virgin launched, we tried to help CD Thèque. I mean, it’s great that international franchises are attracted to the country but local companies should always come first. It’s about finding the danger spots that others have forgotten and helping with them. CD Thèque is here and ours. I don’t have to even like it but I should want to preserve it. When the theaters were shut down we started a project called Al Mawsam and we opened a theater. Other theaters observed, got excited and pushed to open their own doors. Then we worked on another theater and then another. If you lose this, you lose on education. Imagine a place without theaters. No theaters means no productions, and hey, you’ve effectively killed an art form. Change is like a virus, you throw it somewhere and it spreads without a lot of effort on your part. But you have to start it. It has to start somewhere.
So you don’t really want to be an institution yourself…
We seed institutions. We work together and create something, and then when the members get more active they take off, take their CV with them and start strong. It’s like releasing balloons into the world. Green Line, the Committee for Democratic Votes, Helem [the only gay rights movement in the Arab world] were all born and/or nurtured in Zicco House. These movements are important. Helem for instance is trying to get the country to acknowledge the existence of gay people. I mean, what do you want to do with them? Are you going to execute them? Well since this isn’t a dictatorship and you can’t ignore them forever you might as well acknowledge their existence.
Zicco House is an unassuming building right off Spears Street, one you’ll find without any trouble if you ask around. It’s a place for artistic and cultural events, and the perfect spot to start something. But even if you’re not in the mood to change the world, stop by the House’s Samra Bar and have a cheap, un-watered-down drink for support. Written for Time Out Beirut
I'm Karl, and I'm an acquired taste.
I've been an editor for 4 years, a writer for 5 more, and a geek ever since I wrote Pong on my first Atari. I'm married to the perfect woman and we live in the desert. 
Reading the interview kept on projecting this house I visited four years ago in Lebanon. Could it be that I was in Zicco House? There was some kind of art exhibition going on and I went with my cousin who is a photographer.
It is very possible that I was somewhere else but for some reason, I have this house appearing in my mind.
I remember really appreciating how old Lebanese houses were being turned into contemporary artistic zones.
And now that I am remembering, a funny thing happened that night!
My cousin then took me to another “house transformed into a pub” and I sat on a couch while this guy sat before me with what seemed to be his mom and her sister. A few moments later, he approached me and asked “excusez moi mais, n’étiez-vous pas dans l’avion Air France qui venait de Paris?”
It turned out this guy and his mom and aunt came from Bordeaux in the very same plane I took after visiting my sister. I took it with amusement. He took it as a sign that we were to get married and have plenty of babies and live happily ever after.