From ruins to rhythm, Stereo Kawalis in Mina, once a crumbling cinema, now pulses with sound and memory. This collage traces its transformation: from dusty reels and forgotten gears to a vibrant venue where archival fragments meet a living stage. (Photo credits: Rayane Tawil/L'Orient Today)
Two years ago, the floor was the archive.I remember stepping into this same room when it was still in the thick of renovation dust in the air, cracked tiles underfoot and piles of brittle documents scattered across the floor like fallen leaves. Everything felt paused, in limbo. The cinema was asleep, but dreaming.Now, the scene has shifted.Those same materials — film reels, ink-stained stamps, folded programs, and old beer bottles still bearing the grime of past screenings — are no longer waiting to be found. They’ve been gently lifted, arranged, and made legible. They sit on marble tables like offerings. The red velvet walls are lit with hand-printed posters, voices printed in color.A few people move slowly across the space, heads tilted, fingertips hovering just above the paper.I stood still for a moment, taking it all in. It feels...
Two years ago, the floor was the archive.I remember stepping into this same room when it was still in the thick of renovation dust in the air, cracked tiles underfoot and piles of brittle documents scattered across the floor like fallen leaves. Everything felt paused, in limbo. The cinema was asleep, but dreaming.Now, the scene has shifted.Those same materials — film reels, ink-stained stamps, folded programs, and old beer bottles still bearing the grime of past screenings — are no longer waiting to be found. They’ve been gently lifted, arranged, and made legible. They sit on marble tables like offerings. The red velvet walls are lit with hand-printed posters, voices printed in color.A few people move slowly across the space, heads tilted, fingertips hovering just above the paper.I stood still for a moment, taking it all in. It...