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Between Two Nations

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My father was a Marxist. My brother is a Marxist. And I am fascinated by Marxism and its influence on eastern society and culture. I grew up hearing stories of political hysteria. My family left their home to escape and survive it. Many Afghans did not. Afghanistan has been through countless wars. The country has not been able to independently stand on its own since 1978 when Communism took hold of the nation. It’s important for me to explore my history as an Afghan in order to understand myself. To understand my attachment to Afghan traditions and customs, I must understand the country’s story.

A profile series of DD’s emerging playwrights sharing their experiences with writing and their participation in the DD mentorship program. Title of work: Watan
Mentor: Evalyn Parry, Buddies in Bad Times Theatre

I want the play to cause audiences to investigate their attitudes towards nationalism and culture. Personally, I am still exploring my attitude towards nationalism. I am first generation. I have a deep affection and love for Afghanistan through my upbringing but I am also a proud Canadian citizen. I live and write in Canada but I am still searching for a home. I am in between two powerful nations. One in peace and the other in war. Devotion to one’s country is a strange phrase to me. If the country cannot provide universal rights and cannot fully support its population, what level of loyalty can be expected and shared by its people? This question can be posed for both nations.

My most memorable experience(s) of theatre as an audience member: Schützen, by acclaimed performance artist Cecilie Ullerup Schmidt (Denmark/Germany), seen at SummerWorks 2013.

Venus Rising

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As an emerging playwright, the dramaturgical program is crucial to my growth and development. Embarking on my first full-length play Venus’ Daughter has been a beautifully illuminating and relentless challenge over the last four years. I have been lucky to receive support from playwright development units at Nightwood and Obsidian Theatres. However, I am now at the point where my focus is clarity of story, structure and emotional character arc. I finally have a draft strong enough to stand up against rigorous dissection. I believe that the dramaturgy program will allow me the time and space to continue to hone my skills as a playwright—for which I am so grateful.

My first play Who the Hell is Eleanora? was based on the life of Billie Holiday. I gravitate towards stories of black women who were not able to overcome their tragic circumstances in their lifetime because I’m desperate to squeeze out some sort of cautionary tale. Both Sara Bartmaan and Billie are infamous for their tragic ends, so much so that they are mythologized. Both women spent much of their lives coping with trauma; Billie with sexual and physical abuse that manifested in substance abuse that ended her life; Sara similarly with sexual and physical abuse, displacement and exoticisation (just to name a few). There is definitely a sense of poetic justice throughout my work.

A profile series of DD’s emerging playwrights sharing their experiences with writing and their participation in the DD mentorship program. Title of work: Venus’ Daughter
Mentor: Mel Hague, Obsidian Theatre Company

In my play Venus’ Daughter, there is also an element of biomyth. What does Sara‘s story mean to me, and daughters of a diaspora today? My mother is Jamaican and every time I’ve visited Jamaica, it has always been for funerals. Death has a way of bringing people together and is central to African Caribbean rituals and traditions around death/burial. It became imperative to connect Sara’s legacy within a contemporary context.

While developing this play through playwright units (the first was as a participant in Nightwood’s Write from the Hip program, led by Anna Chatterton and Audrey Dwyer), there was almost an element of group dramaturgy which became part of my process. After completing my first draft, I knew I needed more focus and time to really understand the impact Sara’s life has on me today. Her story is so epic that I had to sift through all my research and then put it down and decide on the story I want to tell.

I have been working on Venus with Mel Hague through Obsidian’s Playwrights Unit for the past 2 years. I just completed their 2013/2014 Development Series. Mel understands my process (even when I don’t) and we have set up a work plan that includes several check-in points and a detailed list of monthly goals to carry us through the year.

So far, the most significant turning point in the writing of Venus was when I started working with Mel. She encouraged me to dig deep and asked essential questions which forced me to reinvestigate the story I had thought I wanted to tell: “What is your connection to Sara’s story? What do you want to say about her story? Why now? ” These are just a few of the questions that rolled around in my brain and still do. Through finding answers to those questions I realized that I needed to allow myself to show up in the play. This was the most challenging part because looking back I can see where I grew into the draft I have now. I took a big risk and tried to relate Venus to my life—and that is when something in me cracked open.

My most memorable experience(s) of theatre as an audience member: Andrew Lloyd Webber’s Sunset Boulevard starring Diahann Caroll, at the Ford Centre. As a reader: Harlem Duet by Djanet Sears.

The Final Phase Is Action

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Beyond the obvious benefits of working with a dramaturge—structure, guidance, support—this dramaturgy program gives me the opportunity to engage in the process of decolonial aesthetics; a structure to move in and beyond the borders of what theatre can be.

In my work, I explore the five stages of decolonization proposed by Hawaiian sovereignty activist Hayden Burgess (indigenous name: Poka Laenui). These stages are Recovery, Mourning, Dreaming, Commitment, and Action. Recovery involves a reconnection to our indigenous selves. Mourning is a time to lament what has been “lost.” Laenui believes that Dreaming is the most crucial phase, in which “the full panorama of possibilities is expressed, considered through debate, consultation and building dreams on further dreams.” The fourth phase is making a Commitment. The final phase is Action.

A profile series of DD’s emerging playwrights sharing their experiences with writing and their participation in the DD mentorship program. Title of work: Hilot Means Healer
Mentor: Marjorie Chan, Cahoots Theatre Company

I participated in the Carlos Bulosan Theatre’s (CBT) Play Creation Unit for three years and enjoyed the dramaturgical process. The experience taught me how to write collaboratively, develop a personal writing practice and intercultural stories rooted in my Filipino-Canadian identity.

Marjorie Chan and I engage in rigorous play creation open to interdisciplinary exploration. I share, ask questions and listen to Marjorie who is a wisdom keeper. Then I go for a walk in a park and write; book space at Cahoots and sort out writing on the studio floor; or play with plants and electronic sensors. Thinking about other things allows me to process ideas for my play.

A significant turning point during my writing of Hilot Means Healer involved a character that is a vampire-like mythical monster in Filipino folklore called an Aswang. I originally wrote her to be an evil creature, as I’ve been taught through the stories passed on to me. However, over the past two years I have travelled to the Philippines and California to attend conferences exploring indigeneity. Scholars are considering the possibility of the Aswang as actually being Babaylan—community leaders who were healers and conduits to the spirit world and cruelly maligned during over 300 years of Spanish colonization. I am fascinated with this point of view and in the process of rewriting the Aswang character to reflect a more complex storyline.

Hilot is a biomyth story. My Ninang (godmother) taught me that those who reside in the spirit world are present when we include them in the telling. So for me, writing a biomyth play means travelling through space and time to other worlds. Argentine philosopher and feminist scholar, María Lugones writes about this as: “The shift from being one person to being another person is what I call travel . . . Those of us who are “world” travelers have the distinct experience of being different in different “worlds” . . . The attitude that carries us through is playful . . . We are not worried about competence. We are not wedded to a particular way of doing things. We are there creatively.”

Part of my development as an interdisciplinary artist of dual Filipino and Canadian heritage came through a journey I made in 2012 to the Philippines with a group of Filipino-Canadian artists, critical thinkers, and healers to participate in the KAPWA-3 Conference: “Indigenous Knowledge in the Academe.” Upon our return to Toronto, we formed the Kapwa Collective. We work towards bridging narratives between the Indigenous and the Diasporic, and the Filipino and the Canadian. Kapwa means seeing “the self in the other” (Tagalog). It is connected to the concepts of Ubuntu—I am because we are (Bantu), Kadua (Ilokano), and Kola, which means friend in Lakota (Sioux).

My most memorable experience of theatre as an audience member: Everything Under the Moon, Harbourfront Theatre (2012).

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