Without Darkness, a Star Cannot Shine. Lughass Interview

by Alexandra Mansilla

Without Darkness, a Star Cannot Shine. Interview With Lughass

1 Mar 2024

Once, Ghassan Luqman, also known as Lughass, posted a photo from Sole DXB and instantly gained recognition as a well-known photographer. However, what lies behind the photos, fashion clothes, and creativity? A challenging journey, even to this day. We had a conversation with Lughass to delve deeper into his life.

— So, Lughass, let's start from the beginning. You were born in Jeddah, Saudi Arabia, right?

— Okay! So, I was born in Jeddah, lived there for five years, then moved to Riyadh and lived there for another five years. Then we moved to Dubai, and I stayed in Dubai until 2015 when I was sent to study in the UK. I spent a total of three years there and then came back at the end of 2018. And I have been in Dubai ever since. So that is the brief story of my life.

Actually, it is hard to answer the question of where I am from. Originally, I am Yemeni, but I have never been there and do not know much about it. If I were to visit, it would be obvious that I am not from there due to the different ways of life and certain aspects of the culture I am unfamiliar with.

In Dubai, nobody has any idea that I am not local. I went to school here and studied with Emirati children; I know everything about them. I also lived in Saudi Arabia for the first 10 years of my life, so I know how the people speak, think, and act there.

As a child, I was taught to hide my Yemeni heritage. This was because, after the Communist war in Yemen, many Yemenis fled and sought refuge in Saudi Arabia. Unfortunately, they weren’t always seen to be equal to other backgrounds. I couldn’t understand why it was happening. Why that Lebanese person doesn’t have to hide their origin? Egyptian — the same. Algerian — too. Some people whose native language isn’t English can easily speak English with an accent. It is not a problem. Why are we a problem? I asked my mum about this once. She could not provide a clear answer.

People of Yemeni descent were considered inferior, uneducated, and incapable of doing certain jobs. This attitude made it difficult for me, as a Yemeni, to be accepted and integrated into society without hiding my heritage.

I do want to go somewhere new. I don't want to go to Southeast Asia for the eighth time. I don't want to shoot the rice fields in Bali again. I want to shoot the Eiffel Tower. I want to shoot the Duomo in Milan. I want to go to Amalfi Coast. I want to see The Netherlands and Amsterdam. I want to see London again from a different perspective than when I was a student. But I depend on papers. The biggest challenge in this situation is staying motivated and driven even though it feels like all doors are closed in your face.

It is rather complicated, and even close friends can’t understand it. They just never come over. What is a Visa? What do you mean? Is it for free? No, it is not that simple, brother. It takes numerous pieces of paper. Don’t forget to add 5,000 AED to it — and there won’t be a guarantee that I will get a visa.

— You moved from country to country when you were a child. What difficulties did you face?

— It is not easy having fun when you grow up moving from one place to another. You don't get to know your neighbours or the kids in your neighbourhood that well because you keep moving every few years. Secondly, moving so frequently can be quite challenging, especially when moving to a new country where you must adapt. I experienced this when I first moved to Saudi Arabia. I was the only non-Saudi kid in my class, along with one other Syrian kid. Our names would be highlighted in yellow on the class register to show we were foreigners. One day, when the other foreign kid was absent, the teacher asked: “Where's the other foreigner? Who's not here? Okay, I only have one today.” At that time, I was only seven years old. So, you always have to have a coping mechanism. You have to have a defence mechanism. And to deal with the feeling of not belonging.

You couldn't play sports or join the football team because you were not from there, and nobody wanted to hang out with you after school. Nobody wanted you to be a part of their team. Even if you were good at something, you would still face backlash. I was very good at sports and played at a high level, but I still faced backlash. These were the main challenges of moving around - you never really felt like you belonged.

However, I am grateful to the UAE government for allowing us to call this beautiful place our home and giving us all the opportunities we have. But there was still a question of where to go when our visa ends. Losing a job was not just about losing a source of income for my family; it was losing a place to be. Everything rested on that.

Photo: Nikita Berezhnoy

— And here we are at the point of asking you a question: what is your family like?

— I have an older brother and two younger sisters. My family was very disciplined and systematic. My parents worked really hard, and Dad often travelled for work. My Mum would be the general commander in the house. We had to wake up at a specific time, eat, and sleep at a specific. We had to wear what we were given, cut our hair in a specific way, study at a specific time, and stop studying at a specified time. If we didn’t like the dinner, we didn’t have dinner and went hungry. That is how it was. “I don't want to do it” was not a choice.

I don't know if I can speak for the whole culture, but in my family, there has always been a clear boundary between children and parents. We were prohibited from being sarcastic or making jokes at our parents' expense. While our parents could make jokes with us, we couldn't reciprocate. I couldn't even joke around by calling my parents by their first names. There was a strict hierarchy of respect that we had to adhere to. Even now, at 27, my household still has an element of formality. When we enter the house, we have to greet our parents by kissing them on the forehead and right hand before we can say anything to them. It is just how things work, like in the military, where you have to salute your commander. It is interesting because not everyone has this dynamic. There are also many differences in beliefs and interests between my parents and us as children, so we had to be careful and cautious not to cross any lines or offend anyone.

I wouldn't say it is good or bad. In that scenario, certain patterns can be instilled in kids through fear, caution or memorising without actually understanding why they need to do certain things. An important part of parenting is explaining the reason behind the actions to the child. My dad sometimes did that, but not my mum. She would just tell us to eat our vegetables without explaining why they are good for our bodies or how they provide essential nutrients. It was a non-negotiable rule without any explanation.

— And how is your relationship with your mum now?

— I love my mom with all my heart. If you were to ask anyone in the industry about me today, they would tell you that whenever I attend PR events and receive gifts, I always take something for my mom. I hope that whatever they offer me, they can put her initials on it because, in Arabic culture, you should always hold a special place in your heart for your parents.

If they had not treated me the way they did, I would not be the person I am today. I am grateful for the person I have become and for the opportunity to share my story with others.

— Thanks for sharing. I often encounter talented people without higher education. And you are the same. Why?

— My grandfather was the editor-in-chief of the first three English-speaking magazines in Saudi Arabia: Malayalam News, Arab News, and Gulf News. He graduated from Colombia University in New York with top honours across all majors and degrees. He interviewed famous personalities like Mahatma Gandhi, the Last Emperor of China, and John F Kennedy. He did it for 59 years. He was a very academic man. He read over 12,000 books and published three; his main focus was education. He made sure all five of his children got a degree.

My dad is a finance man who has worked in the field for almost 30 years. Education is vital to our family; my grandfather instilled that in us. When it came to picking my IGCSE subjects, my dad chose them for me. Again, I came from a household where you do what your parents tell you to do. You should do chemistry. You should do the math. You should do business and economics. Why? Because that is how you will be well-rounded. “But I don't want to do chemistry!” “Nope, you should”. “But I don't need it!” “Yes, you do.” “What should I study at University? Can I do film?” “Absolutely not. You're gonna do economics.” And then they sell you an idea. I even did a four-month internship at Roland Berger, one of the biggest consulting firms in the world.

When I got to the UK, I did an economics degree for two years. Unfortunately, I failed an exam that was deemed to be critical. The university had a policy that allowed students to take the exam only once, and those who failed were removed from the course. Later, I discovered that the dean of students was involved in a scandal where he was selling exam papers to wealthy students. As a result of the scandal, I was allowed to re-enroll in a different degree program.

Three of my five uncles and aunts are lawyers. My father was also a lawyer and had an operating law firm at the time. It would have been foolish not to choose to work there since it would have been a great opportunity. But we didn't. I knew that my uncle was working as a freelance lawyer while my aunt was a professor of law with a PhD. However, she was not practising law.

I attended a degree course where, during a lecture on European Union law, my professor made a statement that stood out to me. In lecture seven, he blatantly told the class that the first and foremost requirement to become a barrister or solicitor under European Union law is to either be born a UK citizen or a European Union citizen.

So, I am just sitting in class, thinking, “Well, that's me out.” Just because of paperwork, they have already eliminated 60 per cent of the potential jobs in the industry. And mind you, we have yet to reach the point where they consider my credentials, grades, or qualifications. This is just non-negotiable. All right, what is left in the other 40 per cent? Legal consultant? Great, but what is the acceptance rate for jobs like that? A mere 3 per cent. And how many more years of education would I have to endure? Minimum five, maximum seven. Quick maths: I will be 36–37 before I receive my first-ever salary. No, it is impossible for me.

We have to be realistic. I lost all interest, you know, I didn't care. I just didn't. I didn't see a point, and I am the type of person you cannot convince me to do something if I don't want to do it. So, I decided not to go on with that education. I had no pressure. I had no anxiety. I did not care to disappoint anybody because I knew I was on my way out. So, I looked the professor in the eye and told him: “In lecture seven, you said the first and foremost requirement is XYZ. I am not even capable of going to Europe for a weekend getaway with my classmates and dorm mates. Why would I do that?” He stopped, looked at me and said: “Mr. Luqman, I have nothing to say to you. You're free to go.” And I never went back.

Photo: Nikita Berezhnoy

— Once, you mentioned experiencing chronic depression. Do you have any thoughts on why it happened?

— I believe I understand the reasons. I grew up in a household where my parents' opinion was the be-all and end-all. Their opinion, approval, and consent were the number one priority, first and foremost. The target you needed to achieve was always the satisfaction of your parents. And I didn’t tell them that I quit my education. Living with the burden of such a secret that I couldn't disclose to anybody took a toll on me. It ate me, and I didn't know this. It reached a point of lack of sleep and weight fluctuation. My weight would go up. There were times I'd train aggressively and gain seven or eight kilos, only to drop back down to almost an anorexic state.

— Your body reacted.

— It definitely reacted. In several interviews, I have been asked about the biggest challenge of doing what I do. My response has always been that pursuing what you love is difficult, knowing that your two biggest heroes despise your work. I would often sit in meetings with my manager or clients, and they would criticise my work. I didn't care much about their opinion. But if my parents said something negative about my work, it would break me for weeks.

— You mentioned that you spoke to someone who told you that you were unwell during that time. Who was that?

— Yeah, I had no idea that I was sick. I just thought that those things in my head were just who I was. But I am blessed to have friends who care.

— And I suppose it was considered a shame for you to even think about psychologists? Because it wasn't acceptable in your culture.

— And because of the boundary that I had with my parents. I didn't even know my own mum was going for treatment. But for me, it was a shame to go to such specialists. It was not something I could discuss with anybody.

— So, that post “Without darkness, a star cannot shine” is about your background and all the difficulties you have to cope with.

— Yes. Any difficulty in life is necessary. You need to go down to go up. You need to experience sickness to appreciate the value of health. And you need to be poor to know the value of being rich. Life is a series of ups and downs, and accepting this is important. Once we accept that life is full of challenges and blessings, we can find peace and contentment.

— You mentioned that everyone needs a “room to breathe”. What is this “room” for you?

— Skateboarding was a big outlet for me for many years, not just because I enjoyed the activity but also because of the community around it. It was so different from anything else I had experienced in my life. Nobody cared about your background or what clothes you wore. Nobody cared if you didn't speak English very well. It was all about coming together and sharing a common love for skating. We had beginners and experts, young and old, and everyone was treated equally. We would all sit down together and enjoy tea and sandwiches, and it was a great time. There was no discrimination, and everyone helped each other out. It was a safe space where I felt like I could be myself without any judgment. When I was on my board, time would stand still, and everything else would fade away. It was a great way to forget my life's stresses or worries. As we got older, some of us started getting into filming and photography, trying to capture the best shots we could. But at the end of the day, it was all about having fun and enjoying the moment.

— Why didn't you show your face on Instagram earlier?

— At that time, you were talking about me doing something against my family's will. I didn't want anyone to know who I was. I didn't want anything to tie me back to my restrictions, my family, or anything like that. I didn't want them to be able to know what I was doing. I didn’t want anyone to know my nationality. I didn't want people to know my name or my age.

— Also, you have photos of “invisible” people. They wear clothes but don’t have a body. Could you please explain this?

— It is a technique that I learned from somebody who was mentoring me. It really resonated with me because it allowed me to be a character without being the character. It gave me presence while still being absent. I could wear anything, be anywhere or do whatever it was that I wanted to be and do. Because I tried to hide who I was, it was like a metaphor for what I was doing. I wanted people to know or see what I could do, not who I am. My nationality, age, and name were irrelevant. I didn't want people to know anything except that this guy was a talented and experienced photographer.

While it is challenging to stand out in today's world, where content is surface-level and frequent, I hope that one day, people will be able to appreciate the complexity and depth of my work. I put a lot of effort into incorporating messages into my work that most people do not easily pick up. It can be difficult to grab people's attention on social media, where most people's attention spans are short, but I have faith that my work will be recognised one day, even if it is not in my lifetime. I draw inspiration from artists like Bhaskia, who was initially not understood but later recognised for his art's depth and complexity.

Instagram: @lughass

— What do you enjoy in photography the most?

— The ability to capture a moment in time that will never repeat itself and hold on to it forever. It is a superpower of photography.

— Did photography teach you something?

— Photography has taught me many things. It has shown me that you can make the vision in your head a reality with enough effort. It has also taught me that nothing is impossible. Through photography, I have met and sat with people I would have never met otherwise. If I had followed a conventional path, I would have been just another lawyer in a financial district. However, photography has allowed me to be on the other side of the equation, to be an equal to those I admire. I have learned that the people we idolise are not necessarily extraordinary. Some are just hard workers, others are lucky, and some are talented or well-positioned. Photography has humanised everyone to me and has shown me that anything in life is attainable.

What makes me different from any other photographer? Am I the most informed lighting specialist or the most qualified photographer in the world? Absolutely not. I just truly believe in myself and my work. If I do not believe in myself? This principle applies to any aspect of life. If someone does not believe in what they say, it shows.

— A now, a stupid question for a photographer. How many cameras do you have?

— Five!

— Which is your favourite one?

— Probably my Polaroid. I love it; it gives you a tangible memory that you can hold onto. And you can't really mess with the settings. Whatever you get in the moment is what you get.

— Are there any projects you would like to announce?

— I am currently working on my first independent exhibition, which is scheduled to take place in March. We are still finalising the details with the venue and the host establishment. Once everything is finalised, I plan to announce it soon.

Also, my goal is to travel this year. So, if everything goes as planned, I would love to visit Europe and explore some beautiful places.

— Could you tell me a bit more about your exhibition? What will be there?

— I am planning to showcase five pieces of work that are related to Emirati culture. These pieces will revolve around certain themes, and my ultimate goal is to sell them and donate as much of the proceeds as possible to charity. I believe that using my work to make an impact is the least I can do.

— You also have a YouTube channel with a few videos.

— So, speaking of regrets, one thing I do regret in my life is stopping YouTube. I was 12 years old at the time and had to balance finishing school and playing professional football. I finished school at 3.00 pm and had to be at the club by 3.30 pm to train until 8.30 pm. It was a tough schedule, but looking back, I realise hindsight is beautiful. Everything seems so simple in hindsight.

There was no way I could have foreseen the potential value or the progression that YouTube could have taken. I couldn't have possibly envisioned that YouTube would become as successful as it did.

— Are you going to relaunch it?

— You know, there is a current algorithm. You have to post at least three times a week with videos lasting at least 20 minutes. Additionally, you need to edit videos since YouTube channels require a lot of post-production work. I just don't have the time for all that.

It has always been my dream to share, talk, and take people through my day to show them what goes into doing what I do. I could even pave the way for the next Yemeni or Arab-origin creative photographer who is inspired by my work and can take it to the next level. They can do well for themselves and present us, our community, in a positive light. Inshallah, that is something I would like to do.

by Alexandra Mansilla

Without Darkness, a Star Cannot Shine. Interview With Lughass

1 Mar 2024

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