How does New York City champion the Lebanese creative diaspora? We found an answer with Maria Sakr, who recalled a conversation from her Kitāb Club, the monthly Arab-literature book club she started in NYC: the minute you land in NYC, you tune into your identity more, not less. The recollection set the tone for our conversation in the common area of her Brooklyn apartment, the Manhattan skyline set behind her.
(Credit: Self-portrait by Maria Sakr)
What drew you to NYC?
The plan was always the U.S. When I was deciding where to go for undergrad, I leaned toward LA — UCLA, USC, the big film schools. But I was sixteen, and my parents were nervous about sending me that far with no family nearby. So I went to film school in Lebanon instead.
After graduation, the U.S. was still in the back of my head, but LA felt built for film, and NYC had space for my other creative outlets: writing, music, art. I found a program at The New School, applied, got in, and have been in NYC seven years now, already nostalgic for certain blocks.
How do you navigate nostalgia for Lebanon?
I was last back in March. Every time I go, there’s something new, not always dramatic. I’m a very nostalgic person, so I try not to fall too hard into it; change is inevitable, and nothing’s going to feel like 2019 again or the decade before that. But of course it’s changed. Some people have left, the well-being has shifted, but there’s always joy through it all.
I nurture my nostalgia in NYC in different ways by walking down 6th Avenue to 14th Street, passing the door of my first apartment, or thinking back to 2022, seeing one of my favorite bands, Porcupine Tree, at Radio City Music Hall
Tell us about watching Lana Daher’s Do You Love Me at the Metrograph theater in the Lower East Side.
If I could make a film, it would look like that. She captured the real essence of Lebanon, sadness, danger, death, life, happiness, hate, folded into 75 minutes. I cried through it, not even joking.
How did you become a photographer?
I started taking photos in Lebanon as a side hobby, experimenting with music events, family, and street photography. When I moved to NYC and started needing to make a living, I put myself on an app called Thumbtack, like a dating profile for freelancers, and that’s how I landed my first City Hall wedding. From there it was a lot of DMing and emailing; in the beginning, I was turned down more often than not. I remind myself there are a lot of talented photographers here in NYC, so I take that as an opportunity to look at others for inspiration while refining my craft.
(Credit: NYC Wedding Photographs by Maria Sakr)
How have you been able to connect to the Arab community in NYC?
There are a lot of MENA-centered events in NYC. Being a part of them was natural. I’d find events I was interested in and attend, or reach out to organizers, sometimes offering to bring a camera along. That’s how I built most of my connections like Kareem Rahma, Bassem Youssef, Brooklyn Maqam.
(Left Credit: Kareem Rahma and Karina Muslimova’s, Right Image: Event at Brooklyn Maqam, both by Maria Sakr)
Tell me about the Rolling Stone MENA shoot.
Highlight of 2025. The editor and I were Instagram friends for years before he pitched me the cover. The creative director was incredible, the shoot flowed, ending on her rooftop in Crown Heights, the cover shot. Crazy enough, I’d found her music on NPR Tiny Desk, a while before the shoot. It was a beautiful full circle moment.
(Credit: Alsarah & The Nubatones for Rolling Stone MENA, by Maria Sakr)
What is your relationship with music?
I come from a musical family. My mom sang, my dad DJ’d in college, my uncle is a professional drummer. My dad had closets of cassette tapes: ABBA, Metallica, Fairuz, Najwa Karam, Édith Piaf, the list goes on. As kids, my uncle would put noise-blocking headphones on me and my cousin to protect our ears while he drummed along to hard rock; we had no choice but to lean into music. That admiration for music has continued with me in NYC. I love photographing Brooklyn Maqam, a collective of incredible musicians who create an amazing homage to our culture with every performance.
(Event at Brooklyn Maqam by Maria Sakr)
If you could play any instrument, what would it be?
Bass. Either upright or guitar.
What are some Lebanese traditions you’ve maintained in NYC?
Food, and language.
My husband and I do one-parent-one-language: I’m the Arabic parent, so I speak it exclusively to our daughter. She already says halo for “beautiful,” and maya instead of mai. Teaching her the dialects I grew up with.
For home cooking, I go to Edy’s Grocer, run by Edy Massih, who’s created a beautiful store full of nostalgia. Otherwise, ilili in NoMad, and in Brooklyn, Nabila’s or Huda.
What’s next for you?
Work on some of my New Year’s resolutions. Writing is one, maybe a photo essay, maybe fiction; nothing intimidates me more than a blank page.
For photography, the wedding gigs have become consistent, and I’m looking forward to other commissioned work while engaging with the MENA scene in NYC.
