An appreciation of Mariam Accad's home in Jumeirah is heightened by the journey I take to get there. Part of the journey includes a broad pathway that runs between two houses overhung with large, old trees, and an entrancing walk up that ends at a terracotta-painted wall with an old door daubed a vibrant Mediterranean blue. It is almost easy to miss the pale blue door on the left, which happens to be the quirky portal to Mariam's home.
"This is my secret enchanted garden," says Mariam shyly, as she points to the vast space in front of the home. This is no quintessential, manicured Dubai offering but a worn jewel of a space that hints at a life of repose.
The effect is instantly calming. Trees and shrubs of every description grow in wild abundance, the smaller ones trailing out of old pots, snaking their way out of interesting looking receptacles or shouldering up against the larger trees.
A giant almond tree commands attention with its majestic, thick set branches under which sits a table that Mariam refers to as her winter dining area. More seating areas make themselves evident as we walk around this magical space.
"I decided to paint the walls to reflect the character of the garden and to make one look inwards as well as to inject a feeling of cosiness. The dark blues along the main garden wall bring to my mind the colour of Arabian myth and magic and the soft mossy greens further away provide depth and continuity. The wall, as you look out of the kitchen, is painted in a terracotta shade and it contrasts beautifully with the vibrant green of my husband's herb garden. I could not afford to put colour inside the house because it is quite a dark space and I wanted to make it as light as possible in order to highlight the colours of my furnishings and paintings."
The entry into the home hints at a love of mid 20th century modernism and this inference is spot on as Mariam almost immediately explains how she is partial to the German Bauhaus style. This is a fresh take on that ethos, fused with rustic handmade references. "I love the individual ‘soul' of things," she says. "The value or age of something has no meaning for me at all. I love old things but they don't have to be antique. The mystery of what they have seen, and the mood and style they project is more than enough. I tend to collect things that ‘speak' to me. Whether hand-made, picked up at Global Village, or from a flea market in Paris, everything has its charm. My motto is reuse, reduce and recycle again."
Mariam and her husband Jonathan Prior met in Paris. When she moved into the villa in the autumn of 2001, she was expecting her son Monty. "I already knew of the villa because one of my mum's best friends had lived here and when she was leaving Dubai, she wanted me to have it. We contacted the landlord and it was signed over to us. We don't own the villa - we rent it and every year, like a lot of people in Dubai, we are not sure whether we will be able to continue living here. What makes it sadder is that if we had to leave, the next tenant would probably just hack down the trees as happens so often here. Most people cannot cope with leaves; perhaps they don't see the correlation between nature and life?"
Mariam is one of Dubai's seasoned veterans and loves the souqs, the abras and any vestige left of busy, quirky streets. "The shopkeepers in the fabric shops know me well now and we exchange conversations over cups of masala chai," she says. "I also love the solitude and soul of the desert. The aspect she is not keen on is the sanitising of the city and the extraction of any individuality. "When will we realise that a little grit is needed in every city along with the swanky places?"
While the joys of life in an older property are plain to see, living here is not without its pitfalls. "How do unearthed electrics sound? Or plumbing where the kitchen floor floods and lots of indoor showers when it rains? Not to mention great lumps of concrete dropping off the roof when the rebar inside has rusted. But the landlord fixed that and I am now hoping that he will sort out the electrical problem as well. You can't be uptight when living in an old villa. Go with the flow... or the flood!"
The garden must have evolved organically though. "The garden decides what works," says Mariam. "There is so much shade that it is a question of trial and error as to what will survive. It is amazing how much cutting back these old trees need. That is always a job for the boys of the house (my husband and son) interspersed with requests for cups of tea. Most of the furniture here was found in abandoned villas or by ‘dumpster diving' as our American friends call it. Great fun and amazing how solid wooden furniture is just chucked out by a consumer-driven society. We restored the chairs and then painted them over. The white sofa in the terrace is from the armee du salut shop in Paris and travelled with us to Brazil before it came here. My husband and son made the tree house from wood that had been thrown away and expertly wove the fencing from palm sticks and natural coir rope. The ladder is from a friend's playhouse that was taken apart and reused."
Mariam wears many hats, one of which is as founder of a brand called Half Pint, a children's clothing line. Mariam says running the business gives her instant gratification as she believes children are much less complicated than women.
"I had a break for a year while contemplating whether to stop the line as shop rents were becoming too high for a small-time, independent designer like myself, plus the trade licence rules are quite rigid. But I have found a wonderful partner and we intend to find boutiques over the Gulf to stock the clothes."
Mariam also helps out at the Organic Store in Dubai as it belongs to her family. Says Mariam, "Organic Foods and Café is a big story because it is the lifeblood of my family. My brother Nils started it and we are all passionately involved in it. My father is a major investor and also the Arab food specialist."
It follows then that Mariam is an organic gardening aficionado and has been experimenting with growing her own vegetables and herbs. In addition to her two cats, the family have a pet rabbit, which on the day of the shoot, was in detention due to some night time marauding activities.
A few goats also lived there but turned out to be wilier than expected. After Mariam's silk curtains and some prized possessions were decimated, it was time for them to rejoin the herd.
Says Mariam, "I could never live in a minimalist house because I love too many things. I feel a strong bond with the various odd bits that I collect and they are a big part of my life."
