What follows is the result of an idea to connect the field of philosophy and thought with the world of drama. Let us choose sentences to ponder from the statements of the members of the philosophical group, which are archived in the “Chistiha Blog” (http://chistiha.blogfa.com); and after manipulating the concepts of those statements, and doing a brief exercise and editing, let us create a dramatic idea that will continue to form another dialogue, another concept, and another thought.
In the principles of drama writing, “ideation” and “drafting” have a specific method; but we tried to be one step before the idea and the plot. At the same stage of mental spark or, in our own words, the “study” stage, where the writer’s hand is open to writing down any image, concept, or point. Here, we have not limited ourselves to not mentioning the technical instructions, performance arrangements, dialogue, staging, and other matters, and left them for more detailed plans; on the contrary, we have completely written down whatever came to mind at the moment.
During our group meetings, we came to the conclusion that it was not necessary to obtain refined and precise plans from our conversations. It was only necessary to immediately edit and record everything that came to mind in an instant as a “study.”
And now we share the same with you. May these exercises and sketches be the beginning of a path to step on a bridge between philosophy and drama.
Ideas on the Bridge from Philosophy to Drama: Etude One Hundred and Seventeen
Note: These sketches have been registered with the Islamic Culture and Guidance Department. And the intellectual property belongs to the author.
These sketches are only allowed to be republished on the “Chistiha” site.
Etude Ninety-Six
Solo show (inspired by the form of the show “The Bald Singer” by Mehdi Koushki)
A young woman (painter) and a white canvas and a few brushes and a couple of thin metal palettes and a tin for fuel, and a glass of water
(On the opposite wall are several abstract canvases. One of the paintings has a blue circle on top.)
The woman (Sahra) first places the canvas on the easel. A 110×110 square canvas
She sits in front of it and looks at it carefully. Perhaps she carefully examines its details with a lighter. Sahra believes with all her heart that her canvas hears her. She starts talking to the canvas very seriously:
“… I want to finish you by morning. I’ll take you to the exhibition first thing in the morning. Tomorrow at 10 am the opening. Everyone comes with bouquets of flowers. You should be in a special place. That’s it. Alone…”
She continues: “… I want to talk about myself. That means you be myself. Talk. No. No. Make no mistake. You’re not figurative. No. Not at all. Completely abstract. What have I always done?… Well, you know. But you’re different. Tomorrow is a special day…”
Then he says about the gallery owner: “… When you have my signature on yours, he’s sure to sell it at auction for whatever he wants… What does the price of a painting matter anyway? What does the last painting of a painter matter? A painting that hasn’t touched a brush in three years. Three years, three months, and ten days. Three years, and a hundred days. But tonight is an exception. I need to consult with you. Tell me what you should say to your audience? What do you want to say? What does your heart want?
You know I’m not an aunt. I never was. I never will be. Because there’s no sister at all. But I am a niece. As long as you like it. Tonight I’ll tell you the story of my aunts. See which one you like; I’ll draw that one. I have so many aunts. Each one has a story. Which one should I start with that you like? Ha… aha. Aunt Farideh.
Aunt Farideh has a lot to say. Her words are all written in words. Their home is in the south. She is used to the sultry weather. She doesn’t care about the weather, she is just in her own world. When she picks up the pen, the world is over for her. She writes, writes, writes. Until her story is finished. One of Belqis Sulaymaniyah’s friends. Yes. Do you know her? She also writes in the same vein. They are just like each other.
What about Aunt Aaliyah? Aaliyah lived with Ghada Al-Salman in Beirut for years. They were friends. Close friends. God knows how many books she has published. In that book, A Woman in Love between Ghada Al-Salman’s two wives, they sat side by side and provided each other with intellectual support. Aunt Aaliyah knows almost the entire Arab world like the back of her hand. The contemporary Arab woman.
Let me leave that aside; let me mention Aunt Afaq. Aunt Afaq has always opposed everything. All the old customs. Customs that bound the women of that region. They are Syrian. You’re right, wall to wall, eating colitis.
Didn’t you read Colit Khoury’s “Days with Him”? You should read it. You’ll see her memories with Nizar Qabbani. Yes, Aunt Afagh there, just like Colit Khoury, fought against all the previous rules. Cumbersome rules.
I also had an aunt who got lost in the snow. The snows of Soviet Russia. Vera. She was Lev’s friend. Lev, the son of Anna Akhmatova. Every time Lev was thrown into prison, Aunt Vera would go to Anna Akhmatova and comfort her. She would give her strength. Anna Akhmatova would also read her a poem and take her to the world of words and sounds, words and images, words and meanings. Together they would fly and soar in meanings. In the transcendence of acmeism. Aunt Vera, however, had a weak heart. She was not like Anna Akhmatova. Her heart stopped. Her heart stopped working in the middle of the snow. Maybe she wanted it that way. Her crystal legs froze. She always wore a skirt under her coat. Always. She believed so much in a higher world that I don’t think she could imagine herself without those legs now. I don’t know. Anyway, she was a very strange woman.
I have an aunt who you wouldn’t believe was my aunt. But she is. Aunt Glyn. You can usually find her at rehearsals. Glyn is always on stage. From one theater to another. Always at the side of Jacinna Mahlop. Yes; Jacinna Elsie Mahlop. The same South African actress who is also a poet. She’s versatile, really. Both a writer and a director and a poet. Glyn is not like us. It’s as if she’s used to everything. She’s been fighting for everything for as long as she can remember. For food and agriculture, for education and health, for safe shelter. All the bare minimum. Things that are painful to think about. I don’t know. It’s so hard for me to think about these things. But Aunt Glyn has always been the one to shout at the air on stage. Even for a shameful matter. But she is there. This barbaric custom is still in place for their daughters. Enough.
I want to talk about another aunt tonight. Aunt Zohra… It will continue in this way. We will have twenty or thirty other aunts in this play.
Each of the desert aunts is accompanied by one of the female poets or writers. And at the end, all the aunts’ names are repeated in a sentence or two, and then we feel that this companionship was not actually physical, but a spirit close to them. Or a spirit that can be understood through their stories and poems. And basically the spirit of all women.
Note: Despite the characteristics of romantic subjectivism that it has, this play should absolutely not go towards romanticism. Preferably, its realism aspects should be strengthened. The more realism it adds, the more tangible it becomes and the closer it gets to its purpose. We are also not going to go into feminism. Feminist movements have no place in this play. Most of the common spiritual aspects among enlightened women are considered and a historical review.
In the cases that we have just mentioned here, each of these cases (Aaliyah, Afaq, Gelin, etc.) should be expanded.
And in the end, Sahra has not touched a brush. She has put aside the palette, colors, and brushes, and wants to put aside the canvas. She is tired of not being able to create any work. No ideas or mindsets have come to her, and she is even more confused. Suddenly, her hand falls on the palette knife and her wrist vein opens. She wants to wipe the blood with a handkerchief, but at the same time, she thinks of using the same palette knife to make a signature on the palette.
Now the palette has taken on the role of her signature. A big role, and it is time for her to put only this signature on the canvas with a pen. Perhaps as a symbol of the suffering of all these women whose stories have been told on this canvas so far, and whose colorful and red stories have been written on this canvas.
She gives her interpretation of this blood and signature and no longer thinks about the exhibition. It is morning. The stage light changes and before the canvas is painted with palette and ink, the show is over. That’s it.
Notes: To make this show better, it is suggested that a historical timeline of the lives of women (poets, writers, and artists) be considered. That is, in order of year and century. Fragments of the works of these poets and writers should also be mentioned. What is important are the conversations of these people and their events, which are all performed by the same actor.
In the performance, perhaps with video projection, we will see still images of the aunts and the writers. In this case, the aunts will be the same actor in different faces. The number three years and a hundred days that we wrote here is not a specific number. It could be any other number.
It doesn’t even matter why this woman came and stayed here in this room. It doesn’t matter who she was or what her background was. Similarly, in the film Taste of Cherry, the audience has no question as to why this man wants to commit suicide. What matters is the form of the performance and this repetition of other people’s stories. That’s it. Simple, one-sided stories.
Author: B. Khosravani
It is recalled that any copying and extraction of these ideas, from an ethical and legal perspective, is only possible by mentioning the address, and use for performance will only be possible if the author’s written consent is obtained.