It was one of those balmy Beirut summer evenings, the smell of Nargila smoke mingling intoxicatingly with the car fumes along the corniche, I had strolled alone as I almost always do when visiting the dysfunctional Lebanese capital.
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Nothing is Black and White in Beirut
Ambiguous graffiti on the streets of Beirut
Read MoreYasmine Hamdan: Beirut Punk
Sitting with Yasmine Hamdan on the stairs at the entrance to an Istanbul jazz club, it’s a cold winter Sunday and the last rays of sun are slipping through the glass of the door, Yasmine is performing later that evening and her band are sound checking inside, we chat about Beirut and Damascus, cities tied…
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John Wreford Photographer 