Moving frames: Elie Domit's work

As I watch Elie Domit talk - moving hands and brooding gaze offset by his distinct ruminative intonation - stereotypes and clichés rub against each other in imagery and language.

He is dressed in slacks paired with loafers. On his hands are six silver rings. His rakish five o'clock shadow completes the typical sketch of an arty person.

He sinks deeper into his chair, placed in front of a floor-to-ceiling window in his preferred space - The Empty Quarter Fine Art Photography gallery at the Dubai International Financial Centre (DIFC). The morning rays pierce through the vitreous frame, forming a lit-up portrait of a man with an unreadable visage. Unreadable because his words convey spontaneous tales of a life lived on his own terms, yet his expression shows restraint.

Inspired by his own precipitant whims, Lebanon-born Domit lived in Venezuela, headed to the US to study biomedical engineering, stumbled into music and advertising, and now co-owns a photography gallery in Dubai.

The gallery, founded with photographer Reem Al Faisal and businesswoman Safa Al Hamed, recently collaborated with the international, award-winning photography magazine Eyemazing.

The gallery also hosts exhibitions and regularly participates in international art fairs. It is currently showcasing work of celebrated artists Abelardo Morell, Marc Riboud, Cedric Delsaux and Martin Becka among others.

Domit is the creative director of the gallery. Thus far, his journey has been a concatenation of his desires. For an outsider, the map of his life seems to be plotted haphazardly with several hairpin bends and slow-down zones. For him though these detours are merely outcomes of curiosity and experimentation, and an indicator of his nomadic lifestyle.

Before his current stop, he was in the music business in America, working behind the scenes, promoting bands and licensing for them, touring and doing radio shows. Then he worked in video distribution, leading him to cinema and an attempt at two independent films. "They [the films] never saw the light of day. I came back to the US from Ireland where I was filming," he says.

Taking risks and following his heart has provoked mixed highs and lows. Once Domit found himself with only $20.

"I was almost broke and I couldn't pay my debts. I knew a guy in a camera store. He offered me a job [selling cameras]. I sold, but I also began to take photos. The art [photography] took me to places like Ethiopia, Jamaica and the Amazon - all for personal enrichment. Some experiences were good, some not so. I took up various jobs and activities because I enjoyed them. I've always been a nomad… travelling, seeing new places and meeting new people," says Domit.

And along the way, he has been witness to changes. "I was there when there was no cable or the concept of a music video. I met people who started these [concepts]. I was there when all we had were college radio stations or college circuits that supported [then] small bands like REM. I was there when people starting using airwaves to show cinema, the precursors of what we call cable TV today. I was also a groupie to punk bands like Siouxsie and the Banshees, The Stranglers and Mission of Burma."

He has also picked up several awards, including a nomination for the Prix Pictet award, the world's first prize dedicated to photography and sustainability. And there is more to him...

I, ME, MYSELF

I want to create something memorable. There are two kinds of people: ones who watch a movie and the ones who make it. You can watch Avatar and be dazzled by it or you can be James Cameron who took 15 years to make the film, writing his script in 1994. I would like to be part of the second kind and be involved in creating something that will be memorable.

My gallery represents photography as a medium of communication. We have published a fantastic book titled Dubai, Transmutations by French photographer Martin Becka who used 19th-century photography techniques to capture modern Dubai. In my opinion, there aren't many who care about finished architecture. I hope such a visual documentation will become part of a museum installation where people can see the changes as they happened, not the finished product.

I believe that images can credit reality as well as discredit it. There was an article in The New Yorker about a guy, the Van Gogh of contemporary art if you may call him that, who is commissioned by celebrities to make sure that every photo is airbrushed before it is published. He is the person who changes and beautifies. We see his images - in magazines and tabloids - as our reality. None of these are real.

I live to be with my family and to see my son George grow. He is eight. I also live by simple principles, hoping to leave something for the next generation. We can be a selfish society that doesn't care what comes next. It would be a shame if my son or the generation after finds nothing but destruction.

I know what I do not know, and I'm willing to learn. I know I am always searching, always curious to find new aspects of life. I compare knowledge to physical hunger.

In the same manner that I eat to satiate, but not to overfill, I seek knowledge in a way that I have place for new learning. I believe knowledge is power; yet I don't seek to be more powerful. Rather I believe knowledge beats ignorance.

I have never regretted anything, but sometimes I think I would've been smarter had I listened to those guys in New York when they were talking about HD (High Definition) television as the next best thing. That was 20 years ago.

Or perhaps if I had listened to the guy talking about Midem which has become the world's largest music industry trade fair. Or the time I shared booths with little bands like an American hip-hop group named Run DMC and then later an Irish band named U2.

I also remember a man holding a photocopy printed with ‘MTV music television 24 hours'. Nobody took him seriously. That was almost 30 years ago.

I still ask the fundamental philosophical question, "Who am I?" One of my favourite films is F For Fake by Orson Welles. It's a fantastic story of a man recounting his career as a professional art forger. He could make you a Picasso in five minutes or a Monet in six. He could imitate any great artist. He could sell fake Picassos to galleries. Then, at one point, the artist asks himself, "If I can imitate the greatest artists in history, who am I?"

I, ME, MYSELF

Me and my reality

I am going to contradict myself, but my reality is based on my dreams. I am a bit of a dreamer and my dreams have kept me going.

My wife, Rita, is a pragmatist. She focuses on getting a stronghold on reality. Me? If I didn't dream, if I had preconceptions and outcomes embedded into my psyche, I wouldn't be where I am.

Me and my aspirations

I'm happy with my life. I don't seek unreachable goals. I am thankful every morning and night. I value loyalty and commitment. I apply these values to everything, including my family. I am not saying I'm perfect or that I'm the most honest person, but I am loyal to people in my life.

I admire those who have been able to transcend human limitations. We are not even a grain of dust if we compare ourselves to someone like Mother Teresa. She dedicated her life to serve humanity. As a race, we must aspire to control our greed and learn not to splurge.

Me and art

We aren't shocked that easily any more. French-American artist Marcel Duchamp with his Fountain or Damien Hirst with his encrusted skull are artists making their own statement. Today, it is about the hype. There will always be people who subscribe to it (the hype) and others who genuinely understand it.

Then there is art understood only in context. I recall the experiment conducted about three years ago by The Washington Post in which American Grammy Award-winning violinist Joshua Bell was asked to be a busker at the L'Enfant Plaza metro station in Washington. The experiment was to find out if beauty could transcend a banal setting at an inconvenient time. Bell played classical pieces on the famed violin that was handcrafted in 1713 by Antonio Stradivari. Only a few passers-by stopped to watch and listen. Three days prior, he had filled Boston's stately Symphony Hall, selling for $100 (about Dh367) per seat…

I, ME, MYSELF

Remember the report about Indian sitar virtuoso Ravi Shankar's performance at Madison Square Garden 1971? At the first pause, the audience broke into applause. Shankar cleared his throat and said, "Thank you. If you appreciate the tuning so much, I hope you will enjoy the playing more." This anecdote brings to mind how cultural perceptions play a role in the understanding of a medium. Will there ever be a universal interpretation of photography?

That would be the ultimate dream of a photographer. Generally speaking, we are a visual culture; we're sensitised and desensitised by visuals.

Still I don't think photography should be limited to symbolic images of sunrises and sunsets. As a medium, it should be able to dig a little deeper to show you what isn't immediately obvious. Take photojournalism where you see embedded images which aren't a representation of reality. Remember how Hungarian photographer Robert Capa staged the ‘Falling Soldier' photo during the Spanish Civil War? I don't want that.

I want photography to be a voice that represents reality. I don't want to see the photos of people marching in a rally from the photographer's point of view. Rather I want to see photos of people marching in a rally from their point of view. Does that make sense?

We are being fed and force-fed ideas of perfection from airbrushed images to surgically or cosmetically enhanced physical features. So when we are faced with imperfection - natural, real - we are actually shocked and startled. Your thoughts?

Of course, reality shocks. Which is why most of the time we chose to live in virtual reality. Think about it. When internet chatrooms were launched, many people chose to interact through this form of alternate reality.

To me, a perfect example of alternate reality is when you visit an air-conditioned mall. The word ‘conditioned' itself is telling us that we are conditioned to experience it in the way someone has designed it. Or experience it in the way it is configured (layout and mazes).