Review: Enter Ghost by Isabella Hammad

Enter Ghost–Isabella Hammad’s second novel–centers around a production of Hamlet  in the Occupied West Bank. The main character, a British-Palestinian actress named Sonia Nasir, has just ended a troubled relationship with a director in London and decided to visit her sister in Haifa (in today’s Israel) for the summer.  While there, she reluctantly gets involved with the production of Hamlet, which is being directed by her sister’s friend Mariam. Meanwhile, Mariam’s brother Salim, who is a politician in Israel, has gotten caught in a controversy revolving around “colluding with the enemy” (i.e. Palestinians).  During the course of the summer, the situation in Palestine becomes increasingly tense, with the Israelis blocking Muslims from praying at the Al Aqsa Mosque.

Hammad’s novel has two major aspects.  On one level, it is the story of a theatrical production, focusing on rehearsals and performances. There are tensions among various cast members, something that is relatable to anyone who has ever participated in theater. However, in this particular case, these tensions are heightened because some cast members have Israeli citizenship (and are thus able to travel more freely and have other privileges) while others are residents of the Occupied West Bank and live lives much more circumscribed by the Israeli military presence.  Hammad  is able to bring out the different experiences of Palestinians from the “inside” (citizens of Israel) and residents of the Occupied Territories. While Palestinian citizens of Israel are of course relatively privileged compared to West Bankers, they suffer much discrimination within the larger Israeli society.  As members of the larger Palestinian nation, they are also affected by the suffering of those within the Occupied Territories.

Review: All’s Well by Mona Awad

As a former Dramatic Literature major, I was very much looking forward to Mona Awad’s  recently published novel All’s Well (August 2021), which revolves around Miranda Fitch, a Theater Studies professor at a New England university staging a production of All’s Well That Ends Well, one of Shakespeare’s lesser known plays.  Miranda is a former professional actor whose career was ended by a fall from the stage while playing Lady Macbeth.  After some hip surgeries, she is still dealing with chronic pain and with doctors who don’t take her seriously. Her colleagues also think that she is exaggerating her symptoms. One of her closest friends even tells her that perhaps her illness is in her mind.  As the novel begins, she is also dealing with mutinous students who are upset that she has chosen to produce All’s Well, rather than Macbeth as they had wanted.  The mutiny is led by Miranda’s nemesis, a student named Briana who always gets the leading roles because her parents are major donors to the Theater program.

At a bar one night Miranda meets three men who call themselves “The Weird Brethren” (reminiscent of the three witches in Macbeth). These men tell her that they will give her the ability to transfer her pain to someone else just by touching them.  A few days later, while trying to grab a script from Briana, she touches her on the wrist, leading to Briana becoming very ill with symptoms much like those that Miranda experienced.

While dealing with the serious subject of chronic pain and how doctors are often dismissive of it–especially female pain– Awad’s novel is also extremely funny at times. The scene in the Dean’s office in which Briana accuses (a now suddenly healthy) Miranda of being a witch and using sorcery to make her ill is particularly well done.  The entire novel is told from Miranda’s point of view which leaves it unclear to the reader which of the events are happening in reality and which are distortions of Miranda’s mind. 

Review: Leading Men

Since my undergraduate degree is in Dramatic Literature, I am very familiar with the 20th century American playwright Tennessee Williams, known for such classic plays as The Glass Menagerie, A Streetcar Named Desire, and Cat On A Hot Tin Roof.  However, even I had not heard of Frank Merlo, Williams’ long-term partner who died of lung cancer at the age of forty in 1963.  It was during his partnership with Frank that Williams produced most of his best-known and successful works.

Frank and Tenn’s relationship forms the backbone of Christopher Castellani’s novel Leading Men (Penguin 2019).  The novel is set in Italy during the summer of 1953 and begins at a party thrown by Truman Capote in the resort town of Portofino.  Later scenes take place in Rome and Venice where Tenn is working on the English dialogue for Luchino Visconti’s Senso, a movie which Frank is hoping to get a part in.  Sections of the novel are also set in 1963, in Memorial Hospital in New York City, in the days immediately before Frank’s death as he waits for Tenn to visit him.

Castellani incorporates fictional characters into Frank and Tenn’s lives– most prominently the mother-daughter pair of Bitte and Anja Blomgren.  Anja later departs from Portofino with Frank and Tenn and becomes the successful actress Anja Bloom.  The narrative alternates between chapters focusing on Frank and Tenn and those in which an aging Anja reflects on her past. The novel also includes a (entirely fictional) “lost” play by Tenn entitled Call It Joy,  in which Tenn looks back on his memories of Frank.  This play has ended up in Anja’s possession and one subplot involves her directing a production of it.

A Tribute to Madeeha Gauhar (1956-2018)

Madeeha Gauhar, one of Pakistan’s foremost theater directors and the wife of playwright Shahid Nadeem,  passed away yesterday (April 25, 2018) after a three year battle with cancer. Gauhar and Nadeem were the forces behind Ajoka Theatre, whose  plays I have blogged about here:

Theater and Social Change in Pakistan: The Plays of Shahid Nadeem

Here is DAWN’s announcement of Gauhar’s passing:

Ajoka Theatre’s founder and Artistic Director Madeeha Gauhar has passed away in Lahore after a three-year battle with cancer, according to reports. She was 61.

The actor, director and activist was well known for her commitment to theatre for social change and promoting peace between Pakistan and India. She set up Ajoka theatre in 1984 and regularly collaborated with Indian artists.

Ajoka’s plays have addressed issues related to human rights, especially women’s issues such as female literacy, honour killings, rights of the girl child, health and family planning. Toba Tek Singh, Aik Thi Nani, Bulha, Letters to Uncle Sam, Mera Rang de Basanti Chola, Dara, Kon Hai Yay Ghustakh and Lo Phir Basant Ayee are among Ajoka’s most memorable plays. Ajoka has performed all over the world, including India, Bangladesh, Nepal, Sri Lanka, Oman, Iran, Egypt, Hong Kong, the US, UK and Norway.

She was the first Pakistani to get the prestigious Prince Claus Award for her leadership of Ajoka, which was praised by the organisers of the Dutch prize for “[withstanding] pressures from the political and religious establishment, and [remaining] committed to the cause of theatre for social change.” She was also nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize from Pakistan in 2005.

She is survived by her husband, veteran writer and director Shahid Nadeem and two sons, Sarang and Nirvaan.

 

Another obituary that appeared in The Nation today (April 26):

Born in Karachi in 1965, Madeeha obtained a Master degree in English Literature. Later, she moved to England and got a degree in theater sciences from the University of London.

In 1983, Madeeha and her husband Shahid Nadeem moved to Lahore where they laid the foundation of Ajoka Theatre. She has the credit of directing over three dozen plays performed nationally and internationally in countries like India, Bangladesh, UK, USA, Egypt and Iran.

Madeeha was a tireless activist whose talent and energies were always committed to speaking on behalf of the downtrodden, specifically women and the minorities.

Madeeha was awarded Tamgha-e-Imtiaz by Pakistan Government in recognition of her services and contribution in the field of culture and performing arts. In 2003, she was awarded Fatima Jinnah Award by the Government. She was also a fervent supporter of peace between India and Pakistan. In 2006, Madeeha became the first Pakistani to be honoured with the prestigious Prince Claus Award for her leadership of Ajoka. The award was given to her by Ambassador of Netherlands Willem Andreae.

Talking to The Nation, Shahid Nadeem said, “Madeeha Gauhar was an extraordinary woman of great substance. She lived her life accordance to her principles and was never afraid of any pressure from establishment or even from extremist elements. Her achievements are remarkable in reviving Pakistan theatre and putting it on the global map. She established Ajoka theatre for 34 years without a single day rest and provided Pakistani audience with theatre plays which were entertaining, educational and enriching.”

For the rest of the obit please see: https://nation.com.pk/26-Apr-2018/madeeha-gauhar-passes-away

Gauhar’s passing is a great loss to the entire Pakistani nation and for lovers of performing arts in particular. May God grant her husband,  Shahid Nadeem, and her children the courage to bear this untimely loss.  Madeeha Gauhar has left a legacy that will not be forgotten anytime soon.

 

 

Re-reads: The Merchant Of Venice

In honor of William Shakespeare’s birthday (April 23, 1564), I am cross-posting an essay I wrote about rereading The Merchant of Venice after many years.  This essay was originally posted on The South Asian Idea in August, 2017

In March 2017, a public prosecutor in Lahore, Pakistan, offered to acquit 42 Christian prisoners accused of murder if they converted to Islam. This prodded a re-reading of Shakespeare’s The Merchant of Venice, which also features a forced conversion—that of the Jewish moneylender, Shylock, to Christianity. 

Written between 1596 and 1599, The Merchant of Venice centers around Antonio (the titular character) and his financial dealings with Shylock. Antonio’s friend Bassanio needs money in order to woo Portia, a wealthy noblewoman. In order to raise this amount, Antonio asks Shylock for a loan of 3000 ducats. The moneylender agrees on the condition that if Antonio defaults on the loan, Shylock will be entitled to a pound of his flesh. Antonio accepts these terms, since he has several ships coming in to port soon. However, Antonio’s ships are wrecked and he is forced to default. Shylock then demands his bond. At this point, Portia disguises herself as a man and acts as Antonio’s lawyer. She cleverly uses the terms of the contract against Shylock, since the moneylender is entitled to a pound of flesh but not to a single drop of blood—making fulfilling the bond impossible. Shylock is then charged with attempting to murder a Venetian citizen–as a Jew, he does not count as a Venetian– and his estate is confiscated, with one half going to Antonio and one half to the state. Antonio then offers to renounce his half of the estate, on the condition that Shylock become a Christian. The moneylender has no choice but to accept.

Though the play is classified as a comedy, it is problematic for modern audiences. Post the Holocaust, it is difficult not to feel deeply uncomfortable with the anti-Semitic portrayal of Shylock as greedy and fixated on money. The fact that he is forced to abandon his religion also seems deeply unfair given contemporary global norms. This discomfort with the play has led some to call for its removal from school curricula and for it to be taken off the stage. However, a close examination of the play shows that Shylock is by no means a two-dimensional villain, unlike Barabas in Christopher Marlowe’s Jew of Malta (often thought to have inspired Shakespeare’s play).

Early in the play, when Antonio first asks Shylock for a loan, the moneylender recalls how the merchant has treated him:

You call me misbeliever, cut-throat dog,
And spit upon my Jewish gaberdine,
And all for use of that which is mine own.
Well then, it now appears you need my help:
Go to, then; you come to me, and you say
‘Shylock, we would have moneys:’ you say so;
You, that did void your rheum upon my beard
And foot me as you spurn a stranger cur
Over your threshold: moneys is your suit
What should I say to you? Should I not say
‘Hath a dog money? is it possible
A cur can lend three thousand ducats?’ Or
Shall I bend low and in a bondman’s key,
With bated breath and whispering humbleness, Say this;
‘Fair sir, you spit on me on Wednesday last;
You spurn’d me such a day; another time
You call’d me dog; and for these courtesies
I’ll lend you thus much moneys’? (Act 1, Scene 3)

Antonio routinely abuses Shylock, simply because of his religion. Yet now that he needs him, he has come to politely ask him for a loan. Shylock points out the merchant’s hypocrisy and asks why he should oblige him. Later, when he is asked what good Antonio’s flesh will do him, Shylock responds that it will serve as his revenge. In one of the play’s most famous speeches, he states:

Hath not a Jew eyes? hath not a Jew hands, organs,
dimensions, senses, affections, passions? fed with
the same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject
to the same diseases, healed by the same means,
warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer, as
a Christian is? If you prick us, do we not bleed?
if you tickle us, do we not laugh? if you poison
us, do we not die? and if you wrong us, shall we not
revenge? If we are like you in the rest, we will
resemble you in that. If a Jew wrong a Christian,
what is his humility? Revenge. If a Christian
wrong a Jew, what should his sufferance be by
Christian example? Why, revenge. The villany you
teach me, I will execute, and it shall go hard but I
will better the instruction. (Act 3, Scene 1)

In this speech, Shylock argues that Jews are just as human as Christians and experience all the same sensations and emotions. Just as Christians seek revenge when they are wronged, he will do so as well. By having Shylock make this speech, Shakespeare humanizes him and gives him a motivation for his hatred of Antonio and his relentless pursuit of his bond. Shylock is not pure evil. Rather, he is driven to seek vengeance for the ill-treatment he has received from the majority group.

“A Tryst with Destiny”: Reflections on the Partition of India

This theater review was originally published on The South Asian Idea in May 2012.

As the lights come up at the beginning of “A Tryst with Destiny”, a screen projects news footage of communal riots in India. We see clips from the 2002 carnage in Gujarat, protests in Indian-administered Kashmir, and an interview with Jaswant Singh in which he lays the major responsibility for the Partition of British India on Nehru and the Indian National Congress.  As these news clips fade out, Gandhi and Nehru step on stage and begin discussing their roles in Partition.  From the outset, the play asks the audience to reflect on the question: Was the Partition of India worth the bloodshed that accompanied it? What price did India have to pay for Independence?

“A Tryst with Destiny”, performed at the Shakespeare Theatre Company’s Lansburgh Theatre in Washington DC, was written by Amita Deepak Jha, a locally-based psychiatrist and medical researcher. The play was Jha’s first venture into playwriting as well as direction.  In her “Director’s Note”, Jha notes that her decision to write the play came out of her psychiatric work. She writes: “As a psychiatrist, I help people make sense of their history and how it impacts their present. I deeply believe we as humans carry not only our individual history but also our social, political, cultural, the history of our communities and nationalities in us. It is important that we think and question our biases, prejudices, and deeply righteous beliefs of others and their motives and actions, before we embark on the blame game, creating conflicts and making wars.”  As reflected in this vision, “Tryst” is an ambitious attempt to present a balanced account of more than two decades of negotiations and struggles that led to the freedom of India and the division of the subcontinent.

Partition is a deeply emotional issue for South Asians and different groups will have different interpretations of what led to it and whether it was a positive or negative outcome. “Tryst” does an excellent job of demonstrating that Partition was far from inevitable. On the contrary, there were multiple times over two decades where opportunities for compromise were squandered, sometimes by the Congress and other times by the Muslim League. Chief among these missed opportunities was the Cabinet Mission Plan of 1946, which was perhaps that the last chance for an agreement that would have led to freedom for a united India.

The three central figures in the story of Partition are Jinnah, Nehru and Gandhi.  As the leaders of Congress and the League respectively, Subhojit Sen and Krishna Subrahmanya Murti did justice to the roles of these two towering figures. They powerfully conveyed the two men’s distrust of each other as well as their individual hunger for power. By the end of the play, the audience clearly understood that if Jinnah and Nehru had only been able to get along, perhaps some compromise situation could have been reached.  Sen, in particular, wonderfully conveyed Jinnah’s inner journey that led him from being the “Ambassador of Hindu Muslim Unity” to the “Father of Pakistan”.  His disillusionment and disappointment with Congress were clearly conveyed. Sen also did well in conveying Jinnah’s somewhat less positive personality characteristics, such as his insistence that he, as opposed to the Congress Muslims, was the sole representative of the Muslim minority.  It was evident that Jinnah wanted to be treated as an equal to Nehru and felt insecure that his party was being treated as a secondary, communal organization while Congress claimed to be the sole nationalist organization representing all Indians.  It was perhaps this insecurity that led Jinnah to take such a hard line and to emphasize the “two nation theory”, which 70 years later seems to many to be an extremist and sectarian position.

As the third central figure, Natwar Gandhi, Washington DC’s CFO, did an admirable job of portraying Mahatma Gandhi.  One really felt for Gandhi as he tried to balance the demands of Jinnah and Nehru. At other times, one felt anger as Gandhi tried to solve complex political issues by going on fasts and advocating that everyone sit down at their spinning wheels and spin khaddi cloth.  It was clear that Gandhi abdicated his responsibilities and failed to use his influence on Nehru at times when it may have made a huge difference to the outcome of events.  The final tableau of the play was particularly powerful, with Jinnah and Nehru on either side of the stage, addressing their respective nations, while Gandhi stands between them with his back to the audience, as if to show that he wants no part in Partition.

Indian Ink: Literary Insights into Colonialism and Identity

I originally wrote this essay in May 2009 and it was published on The South Asian Idea. It’s interesting to me how long I have been thinking about some of the same issues.  I have always been fascinated by the Raj.  In fact, in my Directing class as part of my Dramatic Literature major, I directed a scene from “Indian Ink”. This play has been with me throughout much of my life.

Flora: You are an Indian artist, aren’t you? Stick up for yourself. Why do you like everything English?

Das: I do not like everything English.

Flora: Yes, you do. You’re enthralled. Chelsea, Bloomsbury, Oliver Twist, Goldflake cigarettes, Winsor and Newton… even painting in oils, that’s not Indian. You’re trying to paint me from my point of view instead of yours—what you think is my point of view. You deserve the bloody Empire!

(Tom Stoppard, Indian Ink, pg. 43)

Great works of art often reveal insights about history in ways that are more accessible than academic historical accounts.  One work that was especially powerful in doing so for me is Tom Stoppard’s play Indian Ink. Ever since I first read this play some years ago, it has provoked me to think about the colonial experience in India as well as issues of identity and nationalism more generally.

In the tradition of Forster’s A Passage to India and Scott’s The Raj Quartet, Indian Ink examines the colonial experience through focusing on the relationship between one particular couple.   Set in two time periods (1930s India and 1980s England), the play tells the story of Flora Crewe, an English poet visiting India, and Nirad Das, an Indian artist who is painting her portrait.   Over the course of the play, Flora and Nirad’s relationship changes from a formal, distant one to a more intimate one. However, their relationship also reveals major points of tension and of culture clash.  Nirad constantly feels the need to impress Flora with his knowledge of England and of English culture, while Flora wants him to be himself. As the quote that I started this post with shows, she wants him to paint her from his own point of view.  He eventually does so, painting a nude portrait of her in the style of a Rajput miniature. Flora recognizes that he is working in his own tradition and has stopped trying to ape the English.  She tells him “This one is for yourself… I’m pleased. It has rasa” (74).

The play also makes interesting points about the reinterpretation of history, something that is a part of national and ethnic conflicts even today, both in South Asia and in other parts of the world. For example,  in the modern portion of the play, Anish (Nirad’s son) and Mrs. Swan (Flora’s sister) discuss the events of 1857, which Anish refers to as “the first War of Independence” and Mrs. Swan insists on calling the Mutiny (17). History is written by the victors and later reinterpreted by various political groups to suit their own agendas. For example, in modern India, the BJP reinterprets the Mughals as a foreign occupying force, religiously motivated by their negative feelings towards Hinduism. Other historians argue that this perspective is not an appropriate way to view the Mughals, many of whom assimilated and became “Indian.”  History remains a powerful force that can be used for various politically motivated ends. Stoppard’s play forces the audience to question the truth of any of these interpretations.

One of the most interesting aspects of the play is that Stoppard does not take sides. He is not arguing whether Empire was a positive or negative experience for India. Rather, he is using his play to stage a debate between conflicting points of view.  Stoppard himself lived in India for a few years as a child, after his family fled the Nazi invasion of Czechoslovakia. In an interview with The Guardian in 2008, he stated that for him India was “a lost domain of uninterrupted happiness… what meant most to me was the physical India—chapatis cooking over a camel-dung fire. I haven’t ever stopped dreaming about it.” Returning to India in his 40s, Stoppard recalls meeting “elderly Indian people who had regret for the days of the Raj. So I’ve always been very divided about empire being a Bad Thing.”

Theater as a Matter of Life and Death

I am cross-posting an essay I wrote, which was originally published on The South Asian Idea in March 2014.

In the US and in other developed countries, theater is often seen as a leisure activity, engaged in primarily by those with disposable income and enough time to spend two hours watching a play.  However, in many countries around the world, the importance of theater goes beyond entertainment. Rather, theater is a matter of life and death.

As part of its “World Stages” festival, the John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts recently hosted a panel discussion entitled “Recasting Home: Conflict, Refugees, and Theater”. Moderated by Ambassador Cynthia Schneider, a professor at Georgetown University’s School of Foreign Service and the co-founder of the Laboratory for Global Performance and Politics, the panel featured artists from Syria, Pakistan, Palestine, and the US.  All the panelists discussed the ways in which theater was essential to helping individuals cope with extremely difficult situations, including occupation and civil war. As Derek Goldman, a professor of theater and performance studies at Georgetown, commented, “In the US, ‘home’ is seen as a safe space, a haven. In contexts in which home is fraught and chaotic, theater becomes a kind of home.”  Theater provides a platform in which “the unspeakable becomes spoken”.

Nabil Al-Raee, the artistic director of The Freedom Theatre in Jenin, a city in the West Bank, described the role of theater as a means for Palestinians to resist the Israeli Occupation.   The theater is located in Jenin refugee camp, which dates from 1948, soon after the creation of Israel. 17,000 people live in one square kilometer.  The theater draws its inspiration from the work of Arna Mer Khamis, a woman of Jewish origin who devoted her life to campaigning for freedom and human rights, particularly in Palestine.  During the First Intifada, Arna developed a project called “Care and Learning”, which used theater and art to address the fear, depression and post-traumatic stress disorder experienced by children in the refugee camp. In 1993, Arna won the Right Livelihood Award for her work and used the award money to build The Stone Theatre, which was destroyed in 2002 during the Israeli invasion of the refugee camp.   The Freedom Theater was founded in 2006 by Juliano Mer Khamis, Arna’s son, who had returned to Jenin during the Second Intifada to continue his mother’s work.  Juliano was the General Director of the theatre until 2011, when he was assassinated.  The theatre continues to carry forward Juliano’s legacy and aims to promote freedom—not only for Palestinians but for all human beings.

Nabil commented that theater and other performing arts serve as a very important tool to help people understand themselves and to resist their situation in a non-violent manner, through art.  He recounted a remark made by an audience member in Gaza at a performance by the West-Eastern Divan Orchestra, founded by Israeli musician Daniel Barenboim and Palestinian academic Edward Said as a collaboration between Israeli and Arab musicians.  The audience member noted that “People provide us food and shelter but you would do that for animals. By bringing us music, you have treated us like human beings.”

Theater and Social Change in Pakistan: The Plays of Shahid Nadeem

This review originally appeared on The South Asian Idea in July 2012

Art does not exist in a vacuum. The artist lives in a particular social context and his or her work reflects the era in which it was created. Artists have long been concerned with exploitation and injustice. Rather than have their work simply reflect the society around them, many artists wish to use their work to change conditions on the ground. For example, Bertolt Brecht (1898-1956) believed that plays should not cause spectators to identify emotionally with the characters on stage but should rather provoke rational self-reflection and a critical view of the onstage action. Thus, Brecht used techniques that would remind the audience that the play was a reflection of reality and not reality itself. By highlighting the constructed nature of the theatrical event, Brecht hoped to communicate to the audience that their reality was equally constructed, and thus changeable.

Two of Brecht’s most famous plays are The Threepenny Opera and The Good Person of Szechwan. Both these works reflect Brecht’s concerns with the exploitative nature of capitalism.  The Threepenny Opera dramatizes the question: “Who is the greater criminal: he who robs a bank or he who founds one?” The Good Person of Szechwan is about a prostitute, Shen Te, who struggles to lead a life that is “good” without allowing herself to be trod upon and used by those who would accept and abuse her goodness. Her neighbors and friends prove so brutal in the filling of their bellies that Shen Te is forced to invent a male alter ego to protect herself, a cousin named Shui Ta, who becomes a cold and stern protector of Shen Te’s interests. Shen Te’s altruism conflicts with Shui Ta’s capitalist ethos of exploitation. The play implies that economic systems determine a society’s morality.

In modern Pakistan, a group that is producing work similar to Brecht’s is Ajoka. Led by director Madeeha Gauhar and playwright Shahid Nadeem, the group was founded in 1983 when Zia ul Haq’s martial law was at its peak. Since then, Ajoka has been producing plays focused on human rights, the plight of women and the increasing Islamization of Pakistani society. A representative selection of Nadeem’s plays have been translated into English and published as Selected Plays of Shahid Nadeem.