Farah Alimi
April 2026
MEET THE BOULEVARDIÈRE
Farah Alimi has spent the past several years painting her childhood home of Damascus: her sprawling family, their abundant food, and the warmth of ordinary life. Nostalgia and ancestry have become her material, informing an artistic practice that reads as a devotion to her heritage and to a luminous city the world too often sees through a narrow lens of grief. Her work insists on something more expansive: a vibrant, generous culture, rendered with pride and care.
She landed in Paris after years in New York and Marseille, making the second arrondissement her home, where late nights on Rue Bachaumont and mornings at PARAMAZ have become part of her daily rhythm. Always impeccably turned out with her hair perfectly coifed, a rouge lip, and her mother's gold rings on her fingers, Farah has built a reputation for being exceedingly warm and stylish. When she isn’t wandering Paris, she’s in the studio, returning to Damascus again and again through heavy body acrylics applied to paper, leather, and whatever surface piques her interest. Her paintings invariably hold both cities at once: the warmth of a home she carries inside her alongside the life she has built in another.
In Arabic, Farah means joy. Below, she reflects on art, memory, and the small pleasures that make life feel full of it.
THE MODERN DÉFINITION
Arthur Moss defined a boulevardier in 1927 as “a permanent fun seeker. Their life is a perpetual holiday.” What's your definition?
To me, a modern boulevardier isn’t someone escaping reality in search of amusement. It’s someone who doesn’t look away. Someone who goes back to the same memory, the same street, the same story, even when it aches and paints it again & again.
In my work, I return to Syria constantly. Not because I’m trapped in the past, but because it’s alive in me. I hold the beauty of it, the color, the intimacy, the warmth… alongside the grief of what has changed. Both exist at the same time.
THE SPARK OF THE CITY
Which street corner, café, bar, or park in Paris constantly sparks your creativity?
If I had to choose one place, it would be Rue Bachaumont in the 2nd arrondissement. Six years ago, I was visiting Paris for work and sat on a bench there thinking how beautiful it would be to live in this neighborhood. Now I’ve been in the 2nd for four years, and it feels quietly personal. Walking the same streets every day sharpens my eyes.
PARAMAZ on Rue Saint-Honoré is another place I return to often. It’s a leather atelier with a small café inside. I usually go alone, sometimes with friends. I have my coffee and let my thoughts settle. The smell of leather and the care in the handmade pieces remind me that creation takes time.
What truly activates my creativity is simply walking and observing. The 2nd has become part of my rhythm.
THE ESSENTIAL DEMANDE
The original boulevardiers demanded “wine and a song” to set the scene. What two things (physical or metaphorical) do you “demand” to keep your life feeling like a perpetual holiday?
I don’t demand much, but two things keep me alive in the way a perpetual holiday might: memory and presence.
Memory, because my work is rooted in the past: in Damascus, in the streets, in the people and stories I carry with me. And presence, because every day I try to notice the small details around me like the light, the texture, the different sounds of the city. Those two: remembering and noticing are what I try to let life feel full, fragile, and vivid all at once.
SILENT MUSE
Describe the single, most elegantly designed object at your desk or in your studio that affects your concentration and creative workflow.
This one is easy. My studio is always surrounded by books, objects, and traditional coffee cups from Damascus… things I cherish and look at before I begin to paint. But one object stands out: a handmade tile I brought back from the old city of Damascus after visiting for the first time in twenty years. It comes from the neighborhood where my maternal family is from.
It’s an incredibly small piece, yet it sparks ideas endlessly. I’m constantly amazed at how something so tiny can open up so much space in my mind.
THE SIGNATURE STEP
What is the small, daily ritual that makes you feel instantly well-dressed or put-together and the one thing that completes your look du jour?
For me, it’s small, intentional details. I always make sure my hair is brushed and my trench coat feels effortless. Just the right balance of comfort and presence. The one thing that completes my look du jour is my gold rings, gifted by my mother. I feel off when I forget them. They’re subtle, personal, and somehow make everything feel exactly as it should.
LEISURE & L'INSPO
How do you integrate aimless wandering or quiet observation into your creative process? Which street, in any city, is your favorite for an aimless stroll or flânerie?
Aimless wandering and quiet observation are central to my process. Late at night on Rue Bachaumont, when the street is empty and only low lights touch the bench, I notice the small rhythms and textures that later surface in my work. Music, especially Ziad Rahbani and Jonny Greenwood, travels with me.
L’OBJET DU DÉSIR
What have you had your eye on lately?
Lately, I’ve had my eye on an original painting of Antar and Abla, the legendary love story found in every Damascene home. It carries memory, history, and a quiet presence of the past in the present.
L’ART OF JOY
What is happiness to you? Do you find your truest sense of joie de vivre in your work, your relationships, or your passion projects?
Happiness, for me, starts with safety and health, the simple foundation that makes everything else possible. Growing up in Damascus, my mother taught us to find joy in what we had, even when it wasn’t much. That lesson stayed with me: joy lives in small moments, in generosity, and in presence.
I also find my truest sense of joie de vivre in my work. Painting lets me explore color, texture, and light in a way that feels limitless. But it’s not just the studio, it’s the relationships I have with family and friends, my fun passion projects with other creative people, and the small, everyday moments that often go unnoticed. Without joy, nothing exists. My name, Farah, which means joy in Arabic, is a quiet reminder to seek it wherever I can.
“QUOI DE NEUF ?”
What’s inspiring you lately or something you’re excited about?
Lately, I’ve been drawn to Middle Eastern tiles. Their patterns, colors, and textures are endlessly inspiring, and each one carries a sense of history and memory that quietly informs my work.
LAST CALL
In the spirit of The Boulevardier tradition, leave us with a drink and a song.
A virgin martini with two olives, and ”Bala Wala Chi” by Ziad Rahbani.
As told to Katie Barrie
