"The Lebanese people, most regrettably, has not yet reached the rank of maturity in the arts... Art in Lebanon is still crawling. Here a man takes art as a luxury, not as a necessity, as is the case in the civilized, awakened countries; and Lebanon cannot be counted civilized and complete in culture until art becomes in it a pressing necessity, like air and water and light — not
a luxury it can do without..."
With these words the artist Omar Onsi opened, once we had settled ourselves in his splendid gallery-hall, where over its expanses and corners, in its recesses and angles, were spread magnificent artistic canvases, oils
and watercolors, expressive and speaking, telling a thousand and one tales and evoking a thousand and one scenes, in whose symbols the splendor and magic of nature shine forth, their colors and lines proclaiming the greatness of man and bearing witness to the wonder of his invention and the beauty of his creation...
And after all... is not man a creator... he created, and created marvelously...
I roamed about the hall, passing from one atmosphere to another and from one canvas to the next... Here is an idea that kept haunting Mr. Omar's imagination for five whole years, back in the days when he was in Amman, where he spent five years, leaving it afterwards with a thousand and one ideas in his mind and the lines of a thousand and one pictures in his imagination; and that idea did not come out into the domain of splendid, enduring canvases until France, where the artist spent two full years studying
art and visiting the exhibitions... These are seven canvases, all representing a single scene of the pines — the lilies of the everlasting mountain — at dusk and just before dawn, at sunrise, at forenoon, at noon, at mid-afternoon, at sunset, and in the tempest... What marvels the colors are, what beauty in
their magic play... what power in the shadow and the light and the colors, and their wondrous work in carrying you, quicker than the twinkling of an eye, from one atmosphere to another... A canvas stopped me which at first glance I fancied resembled what they call "abstract art," so I went on to ask him whether this kind
This is the northern corner of Onsi's studio; it is his place of rest and of the midday nap, and serves at the same time as the library, where Onsi keeps a respectable number of books, collections, and magazines of art. Miss Attar is seen recording the artist's words and his answers.