Share"It really started when cassette shops in Kuwait were shutting down,” recalls Fares Al-Muhanna, describing the moment he began collecting memorabilia of Lebanese music legend Fairuz and embarked on his journey into the world of Fairuziat. Within a few months, he had amassed around 150 cassettes produced in Greece and Lebanon. “If I didn’t already have it, I’d buy it,” he said. His passion soon extended to rare and scarcely available vinyl records from Lebanon, Ukraine, the US and eBay, with a focus on original pressings by Greece-based labels or Sawt Al-Sharq.
“One vinyl in good condition can go for $250 or more — and limited or rare ones I found were priced around $600 to $1,000,” he said. After the Beirut explosion in 2020, it became harder to find records, as many well-preserved vinyls were destroyed.
Fares’ collection also includes posters and concert brochures, many of which were gifted by fellow Fairuz enthusiasts — Othman from Bahrain and Muath from Kuwait. “Othman has attended her concerts since 1978 and used to record them. He had such rare material that Fairuz herself once contacted him to retrieve a recording,” Fares shared.
Among the most cherished items in his collection are original posters from her 2001 concert in Kuwait — her last performance in the country — and her iconic 1994 concert in Beirut, marking her return to Lebanon after the civil war.
His collection also includes the original Safar Barlik film catalog from 1967, and a magazine from her US tour in the 1980s, in which American senators and governors praised her, offering “a beautiful record of her impact abroad”.
Beyond collecting, Fares runs a Fairuz fan account on Instagram: @fairuziat. “It’s where I share rare music clips, record details, concert footage and little-known stories or facts,” he said, adding that his goal is to archive Fairuz’s legacy in a way that feels alive and accessible for younger generations who may be discovering her for the first time.
Fares even visited her house in Lebanon. “A friend took me there without telling me — we just stopped in front of it. I didn’t knock or disturb anything; I just stood quietly and took it in. Now, every time I visit Lebanon, I make sure to pass by. It’s become a small ritual.”
Among his favorite songs is “Indi Thika Feek” from her 1994 London concert. “I believe it was the first time she ever performed it live — maybe even before it was released. She sang it slowly, with so much calm. It was the perfect version of the song — it showed a more relaxed, personal side of her.” Other favorites include Ya Rayt Mennon, Tareq Alnahal and La Wallah (La Bamba).
“And then there’s Li Beirut,” he added. “It’s a song I sometimes avoid because of how emotionally heavy it is — but it always comes back to me. It was released in 1994, but it somehow feels like it reflects every moment of Lebanon’s struggles — in the 2000s, 2010s, even 2020.”
One of Fares’ fondest memories is when his friend Othman let him hear Fairuz sing Aysha Wahda Balak, an unreleased, private recording of one of his favorite Ziad Rahbani songs. “It’s not available online, and hearing it in her voice was unforgettable. What most people don’t know is that she has a disabled son, and even at 90, she still takes care of him herself. She doesn’t have grandchildren. She rarely appears in public — yet she’s everywhere,” he noted.
For Fares, Fairuz isn’t just a legendary artist — she’s woven into the fabric of Arab daily life. “Every year, she sang publicly for Good Friday and Easter, and her voice became a spiritual presence for many people. You hear her voice in every Lebanese restaurant, every Syrian TV show, every morning radio broadcast,” he said, adding that in Lebanon, her songs are taught in schools. “That’s not just fame — that’s cultural immortality.”
