Moving in

A brief follow up on my previous post. After one night in a hotel, I moved into what will be my home for the next two months. The apartment is very nice. It was built for the owner himself to live in, so the furniture and fittings are very nice. However, after settling in, the apartment reminds me of something Edward Said notes in the book After the Last Sky. Examining photographs of ‘Palestinian interiors’ taken by Jean Mohr, Said suggests that there is always something a little bit off about these spaces. They are always a little too cluttered, and juxtapose elements that don’t go together well, something he traces back to the experience of exile.

In my apartment, things are also a little bit off, but in a slightly different way. The owner has gone to great lengths to furnish the place beautifully, and for the most part the aesthetic works. But – and perhaps this simply says something about the landlord himself  - some smaller details have seemingly been overlooked. There are knives and spoons but no forks in the cutlery draw. There is a lemon juicer but no plates or bowls. A handle is missing from one of the wardrobe doors, even though the wardrobe appears to be brand new. An apparently new sink has a rusted drain cover. There are three bathrooms, two televisions with satellite connections, a sitting room to receive guests, a traditional Arab sitting room (a rug and cushions on the floor) and a balcony, but no dinning table. It almost feels like someone’s idea of a house, without the sense of a house that has actually been lived in… and as I understand it, this is the case.