Khambay's Words, Words, Words

Birthdays: A Brief History

Everyone knows what birthdays are – they are the anniversary of someone’s birth. A birthday comes around once a year, ie, September 10^th, a birthdate, is the complete date, ie, September 10^th 1999. Nowadays birthdays are heavily celebrated with cake, with some birthdays carrying more weight and importance than others. But where did these traditions come from? And why do we eat cake?

Going back to ancient Egypt, the Pharoah’s did not celebrate the anniversary of their birth, but the anniversary of their ascension to the throne, which was seen as their ascension into godhood. Greek Historian Herodotus noted in his works that Persians took great pleasure in celebrating their birthdays, and that the rich treated themselves to baked cow, horse or camel. The Romans however did not initially celebrate people, but institutions. So perhaps the anniversary of the founding of a temple, or a university was celebrated. Over time, the Gods associated with the place in question became more directly celebrated, for example, March 1^st is known to be the birthday of the God Mars.

As does most things, this changed overtime, as ordinary people began celebrating the anniversary of their birth. Romans believed that every individual had divine nature, and that this aspect of their being needed to be worshipped and respected. For men, this spirit was called the Genius, and for women, Juno. So, on the day of their birth, the Romans would make offerings in the lararium, or the household shrine. This expanded, and birthday parties began to enter the picture.

Birthday parties solidified alliances, familial bonds and friendships, and were seen as great social occasions. In 1973, Robin Birley discovered the Vindolanda tablets, the oldest surviving documents in Britain that dated back to Roman times. Transcribed was an invitation to a birthday party. Books were also popular gifts. If a high profile member of society died, their birthday would be celebrated in the following years, which is something that is a popular tradition across the world. Sikh people celebrate the birthdays of the ten Gurus, known as Gurpurb, Hindus also celebrate Ganesha Chaturthi which marks the birthday of Ganesha.

Saint’s days have historically been celebrated, typically on the day of the named saints’ death or martyrdom. During in the Middle Ages, the majority of the population celebrated their saint’s days, which was the saint they were named after. In Roman Catholic and Eastern Orthodox countries, Saint’s Days were known as name days. The festivities resembled that of a birthday and were celebrated on the day of a saint with the same Christian name as the birthday person. In ‘War and Peace,’ Pierre visits Natasha on her name day at the start of the novel.

During the Middle Ages, it was the nobility that celebrated the anniversary of their own birth, and whilst early Christians regarded birthdays as pagan rituals, nowadays Christians are quite open to the idea. Jehovah’s Witnesses are still sceptical however, citing Christianity’s previous condemnation of birthdays and their potential links to superstitions and magic. Sikhs also do not encourage the celebrations of birthdays, viewing them as superficial festivities. Sikhs instead view the day as an opportunity for spiritual reflection.

The tradition of eating cake dates back to ancient Greece, where offerings of round, moon-shaped cakes with candles were made to honour the goddess Artemis. In Germany, during the 18^th century, this tradition continued with Kinderfest, where candles were used to ward off evil spirits who would attempt to steal the children’s souls. It is from here that many of the birthday traditions that we see today originated, and it is estimated that in-between 50 to 100 million birthday cakes are eaten every day!

Some birthdays hold more significance than others, particularly 18 and 21. As you may have guessed, these are the ages where you are legally seen as an adult, also known as ‘coming of age.’

The well known ‘Happy Birthday’ song was written by American sisters Patty and Mildred J Hill, and first appeared in print in 1912. The melody was originally composed with the aim of helping children to learn, with the phrase ‘Good Morning to All’ originally being used.

Happy Birthday everyone!

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‘Make Me Feel’ at the Bush Theatre Review: A fun and enjoyable look at the highs, lows and politics of friendship

I was back at the Bush Theatre this week for the world premiere of ‘Make Me Feel.’ Written by Bush Writers’ Group alumni Will Jackson for the 18-25 Bush Young Company, the play follows Jamie (Joshua Aketse-Entsie) and Ruby (Dejuan Desiree) as they plan their nuptials. Also, along for the ride is their seventeen friends, who all go through their own highs and lows in the run up to the big day. It is accurately described as a cross between ‘Love Actually’ and ‘Normal People,’ and does offer a heartwarming and fun look into the politics of the 18-25 age bracket. Although, inevitably, several characters and plot points do fall by the wayside, the overall experience is a highly enjoyable one.

As a start, the Bush Theatre should be commended for its endeavours to educate and empower a new generation of diverse theatre talent. It is clear that the cast, and the creative team, are all ones to watch. The set is immediately striking, and the space is used well to communicate a multitude of places, including clubs, pubs and the wedding venue itself. The lighting is well used to communicate changes in mood and location, and a particularly immersive, albeit slightly irrelevant, protest scene is made more immersive through the use of smoke effects.

The show soars when focussing on the wider dynamics of the friendship group, and often makes for a humorous and relatable piece of theatre. A particular standout is a scene depicting the Hens’ and Stags’ Whatsapp group chats as they plan their respective Hen and Stag nights, which drew laughter from the audience. It was during these moments that the audience was most engaged.

However, balancing many characters and plot threads does not always work. Scenes that particularly feel out of place are a speed awareness course, and a pro-Palestinian protest. The latter is particularly ripe for criticism, as it seems that, without reference to it throughout the rest of the play, a political message is included for the sake of including a political message. Although I have seen other reviewers focus in on these gripes, if you sit back and enjoy the ride, the show is guaranteed to take you on an interesting journey, much like life itself.

4/5

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Don’t miss the last shows today!

Tickets: https://www.bushtheatre.co.uk/event/make-me-feel/?gad_source=1&gad_campaignid=7179390604&gbraid=0AAAAADniBzdAvrN4574a0SHQLcg0TEsK_&gclid=Cj0KCQjwqqDFBhDhARIsAIHTlkt7nlCzFu7Ydb5iiz77lXxdffkvvjv6tg-8i9sCNGhtzdnd5tFH_gcaAjFmEALw_wcB#book

Photography by Harry Elletson

The Partition of India: A Brief History

The 14^th and the 15^th of August is the anniversary of the Partition of India, an event that occurred in 1947 and refers to the splitting of British India into India and Pakistan. As well as affecting India’s borders, the seminal event is often cited as the cause of certain religious and cultural divides.

India and Britain have a complicated history, dating back to the East India Company which was established under Elizabeth I in 1600. It was not until the death of Emperor Aurangzeb and the fall of the Mughal Empire in 1707 that Britain gained a stronger foothold in India, and used their naval fleet to transport more British men over to secure that hold. The foundations of the British Empire are attributed to Warren Hastings, who was appointed the head of the Supreme Council of Bengal in 1772, and Robert Clive, a military man who led a decisive victory over the Nawab of Bengal at the Battle of Palashi (anglicised as Plassey) in 1757. Under Hastings’ rule Calcutta was redeveloped and became the capital of British India.

The East India Company fell after the Indian Rebellion of 1857, and India found itself under the control of the crown. It was in 1877 that Queen Victoria added ‘Empress of India’ to her title, and it was during this time that Britain introduced several new modes of transport to the country. India was longing for independence, and this reached its head in the 1900s.

The roots of partition can be traced back to 1905, and the Partition of Bengal. Viceroy of India, Lord Curzon, divided Bengal into Western Bengal and Assam, and Bengal. Curzon did this as he believed the large province of Bengal was too large to govern as one. This decision was heavily based on religion, with Muslims dominating Western Bengal and Assam, and Hindus occupying Bengal. This divide, based on religion set precedents for how boundaries would be drawn going forward, and encouraged a nationalist movement in India.

However, decisions-based on religion were rarely based on established, reliable facts, and instead encouraged religious hostility. India itself is a large melting pot of many different cultures and religions, and so drawing borders based on generalisations is viewed today as extremely reductive. At the time though, it took hold, and the two-nation theory began to gain traction, formalised in the creation of the India National Congress Party and the All India Muslim League.

The India National Congress Party was formed in 1885, and the All India Muslim League was formed in 1906, both vying for Indian independence. The All India Muslim League however argued that due to their differing religions, Hindus and Muslims had distinct cultural differences, and therefore, could not coexist in one nation. The All India Muslim League believed that a united India would be majority Hindu, and would therefore overlook the needs of the Muslim population.

In an attempt to try and appease both parties, Britain allowed the people of India to vote in the 1909 local elections, but, they gave Muslim people a separate electorate. This created two separate power structures in the same geographical area, only fuelling the All India Muslim League’s belief that Muslims needed their own independent state. The two-nation theory was something that Muhammed Ali Jinnah continued to champion when he became head of the All India Muslim League in 1913. Under Mahatma Gandhi, the India National Congress Party won the 1937 Indian election, something that only fuelled the All India Muslim League’s initial concerns.

During the Second World War, Churchill worked with Jinnah, who cooperated with the war effort during the Second World War. In return, an agreement was made that the All India Muslim League could secede from an independent India, should the occasion arise. Following World War II, it became obvious to many Britons, bar Winston Churchill, that Indian Independence was inevitable.

Clement Attlee was sworn in as Britain’s Prime Minister in 1945, and was sympathetic towards Indian Independence. In the 1946 elections, the prospect of an independent Pakistan became more of a reality as the All India Muslim League won 87% of Muslim seats, and the Indian National Congress Party won 90% of non-Muslim seats. Jinnah also announced a Direct Action Day, which erupted into violence now known as the 1946 Calcutta riots, beginning on 16^th August 1946. With this announcement, Jinnah aimed to encourage strikes and economic shut downs to protest for an independent Muslim state. This violence continued into the next year, and Britain essentially lost control of the situation.

Lord Mountbatten, the Viceroy of India at the time also wanted an independent, but united India, one that would hopefully become a strong ally in future. These bubbling tensions, fuelled by beliefs about the two-nation state continued, and led to the eventual decision to split India into India and West and East Pakistan, a name formed of several different areas:

P = Panjab

A = Afghania

K = Kashmir

I = Indus

S = Sindh

TAN = Balochistan

It was up to the British to adjust the actual borders, with most areas in India opting to either join India or Pakistan. However, the districts of Bengal and Panjab were to be divided based on the density of religious populations, a tactic used to Partition Bengal in 1905. The new map, drawn by Sir Cyril Radcliffe, who had never been to India, was released two days after India and Pakistan became independent, on the 17^th of August. This is what prompted mass migration, as some families, quite literally, found themselves on the wrong side of the border. It was this mass migration, an estimated 10 to 12 million people, that prompted religious violence and bloodshed. Although at the time the borders seemed absolute, East Pakistan became Bangladesh in 1971.

The Radcliffe Line dividing India and Pakistan

Partition explains why some important Sikh locations are now based in modern day Pakistan, such as Guru Nanak’s birthplace. It also explains why the Panjabi language has variations, as there is a version of the language influenced by India, and one by Pakistan.

The event has had a significant impact on popular culture, and is referenced in literature, film and television, including Salman Rushdie’s ‘Midnight’s Children’ and even a Series 11 episode of ‘Doctor Who.’ The ramifications of the widespread suffering caused by the divide are still felt today, and explain certain religious and cultural conflicts within India.

Partition also explains the ongoing Kashmir conflict. Initially, Kashmir was left to decide it’s own future, and at the time, their ruler, Hari Singh decided to bring Kashmir under India’s rule. Singh needed India’s military backing against Pakistani tribal invaders. This led to the Indo-Pakistani War of 1947, a conflict that resulted in the drawing of another border, the Line of Control. The Indian Pakistan conflict over Kashmir has peaked and troughed for decades.

It is clear from this alone that Partition still inspires complex debates about religion, culture and identity, communicating that its effects are still keenly felt today.

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‘Sing Street’ at the Lyric Hammersmith Review: An immersive blast of 80s rock, rage and youthful hope

I was back at the Lyric Hammersmith last week for the opening of ‘Sing Street’! Based on John Carney’s 2016 film of the same name, the musical follows schoolboy Conor (Sheridan Townsley) who claims to be in a boy band to impress his mysterious crush, Raphina (Grace Collender). Set in 1980s Dublin, the show is a real blast of 80s rock, rage and youthful hope. Although the second half is weaker than the first, the musical’s biggest selling point is its talented company and its homage to the culture and music of the 80s.

The show is unique in its style. Using high quality projections, and a camera with a live link to the back of the stage, the show is wonderfully immersive, and gives it an authentic feel that is reminiscent of 80s television. Although the story of the first act is simple, make the band to get the girl, the momentum is strong and there is plenty of humour in it. Conor’s motley band, and their 80s costumes, provide plenty of laughs, even though there are too many members to truly get to know any of them. The way that Raphina is introduced, gliding onto the stage in a phone box, is suitably fun and ethereal.

Grace Collender as Raphina and Sheridan Townsley as Conor

The first act builds to a crowd-pleasing crescendo, with Conor successfully wooing Raphina, both of which have a touching, and believable chemistry. The performances all round are incredibly strong, and this multi-talented group of young actors is certainly one to watch.

However, it is the second act that falters, as the premise of the show is complete – Raphina is won. The songs still inspire and impress, but in-between there is a bit of a plot vacuum. The show never quite manages to capitalise on the dramatic themes that it touches on, including poverty, incest and bullying. We keep being told that Dublin is ‘dead end,’ but we never actually know why. Conor’s parents also split up in a scene that feels slightly underwhelming.

This act preoccupies itself with defeating Lloyd Hutchinson’s Brother Baxter, who, up until this point, has had a relatively small role. Although the boys do triumph, staging a concert at their school despite Baxter’s protests, the thread is not as strong as Conor’s pursuit of Raphina. At the end, Raphina and Conor decide to go to London to try and make it in the music industry.

Although I’m slightly concerned as to whether Raphina and Conor will survive the crossing in Conor’s grandads’ boat, this hopeful energy is consistent throughout the musical, and the performances of the core cast make it easy to get behind them in their endeavours. It is when the cast flex their musical muscles on stage that the production truly soars, and the show is worth seeing for that, as well as its blast of 80s nostalgia.

3/5

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‘Sing Street’ is playing at the Lyric Hammersmith until August 23^rd!

Tickets: https://lyric.co.uk/shows/sing-street/#performances

Photography by Manuel Harlan

‘Flat 2’ at the Wandsworth Arts Fringe Review: An acute and nuanced study of the awkwardness and humour of the grief experience

‘Flat 2’ asks a wonderfully morbid and unique question – if two couples move in together, and after forty-eight hours one half of each couple dies, what do you do? Lucy Foley’s debut play premiered in London last year, and then moved to Edinburgh Fringe. I caught the show at the Wandsworth Arts Fringe Festival, and was especially impressed with how the show’s ability to examine the awkwardness, and trauma, of grief through a darkly comic lens.

Although the venue that I saw the show in was not its permanent one, it was in Wandsworth was for two days, it was well utilized. An underground arch with a leak is as ‘student housing’ as you can get, and the intimate nature of the space served the story, as, when you are the one grieving, all eyes are on you.

Tom Ashen as Freddie and Lucy Foley as Ava

From the off, the play manages to reflect the reality of grief, as it fields the age-old question of ‘what do we do now?’ The play accepts that grief has no guidebook, especially when you are in your twenties. Ava (Lucy Foley) and Freddie (Tom Ashen) are left debating what an appropriate mourning food is, and whether ordering a Deliveroo would be offensive. This is not only witty, but painfully relatable. I, after losing a loved one, questioned whether watching TV was an acceptable activity. While there is a slowness to this opening, as the characters process their immediate situation, it works, as at the shows core are two eminently watchable and sophisticated performers.

Foley and Ashen both capture the subtle nuances of their characters’ grief experiences. Foley looks longing into the distance, Ashen turns his back to the audience and quietly sobs. Both performers make these two very different grief experiences palpably real, and relatable. From the off, both have a delicious chemistry even though we know as an audience, they really shouldn’t.

The play has an uncanny ability, as mentioned, to go from darkness to dark comedy. A good example of one of these early switches is the appearance of Freddie hyping up a bunch of imaginary five-year-olds dressed as The Stig for Tyler’s fifth birthday party. Foley and Ashen’s dynamic, as well as the early appearance of our fake Stig all contributed to the air of unpredictability that surrounds the piece, and I’ll admit, the directions it took surprised me for the better.

I know we shouldn’t have preconceptions or assumptions, but based on the press released I believed that we would be with these characters for the early days of their grief. Instead, we get a smart montage of the days after the deaths of Stefan and Billie. Ava and Freddie repeat the same day, over and over and prove the inevitable fact that after death, life stops for no one. The play follows these two characters for several months, allowing for a proper, nuanced examination of grief.

Every plot point has time to properly breathe, be addressed, and as a result, we end the show with a pair of fully rounded characters. The show elicited laughs and tears provided a nuanced interrogation of grief and managed to be light hearted at the same time. To accomplish this, in such a short amount of time, is impressive.

Shine bright like a diamond.

5/5

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‘Miss Myrtle’s Garden’ at the Bush Theatre Review: A moving piece of theatre that takes time to examine love, loss and memory

I was lucky enough to be back at the Bush Theatre this week to see their latest offering ‘Miss Myrtle’s Garden.’ Written by Danny James King and directed by Taio Lawson, the show follows the eponymous Miss Myrtle as she, and the characters around her tend to her garden, and contend with the past. The play is more of an experience than a linear story, much like life itself, and makes for a moving, relatable, piece of theatre that takes time to examine the human conditions of love, loss and memory.

What is immediately striking is Joshua Gadsby’s lighting. Not only does it reflect the feelings of the characters, but simply works to show the passing of time, a core theme within the play. The lighting also lets the audience in, when it wants to, and at times blacks out, when Miss Myrtle herself does not want to remember something, or does not want to let us in. Khadija Raza’s titular garden is charming, and blooms and evolves as the characters do.

The slow burn first half introduces all characters with humour and depth, but as you may suspect, the main star is Diveen Henry’s Miss Myrtle. Acid tongued and quick witted, Henry crafts a character that subtly evolves over the course of the show, and one who is instantly relatable. We all know someone like Miss Myrtle, that older, female relative who speaks their mind when they want to, and turns you away when they do not want to look back. She claims: ‘I don’t visit the past. The past visits me.’ Initially, this comes in the form of her deceased husband ‘Melrose,’ played by Mensah Bediako. Despite his lack of dialogue, his presence, mainly due to his chemistry with Henry, makes for some incredibly moving moments between the two as Miss Myrtle remembers her husband. Her take on the past becomes more complex in the second half, as the audience learns that she has dementia, so whilst she claims the past visits her, it is also evaporating before her very eyes.

This puts her slightly at odds with grandson Rudy, (Michael Ahomka-Lindsay), who is keen to learn more about his father, and his past. As the child of an immigrant, there is a desire to learn about their life before, as it helps piece together where you came from, but those who made that journey are not always keen to retread that path, as Miss Myrtle proves.

Michael Ahomka-Lindsay as Rudy and Elander Moore as Jason

Whilst grappling with this aspect of his identity, Rudy also struggles with his queerness and introduces secret boyfriend Jason (Elander Moore) as his friend… although Gary Lilburn’s Irish neighbour Eddie sees right through that. Rudy and Jason both present their queerness in different ways, but that does not detract from their validity, chemistry and the strength of their relationship. Their struggles to be themselves, and accept themselves, make for a highly relatable story about queer identity and self-acceptance. Nothing is too sensationalised, or grandiose, and the issue is treated with nuance and reverence, again reflecting life itself. Not everything is loud like soap opera.

I would say the play is like a snapshot. Like someone has rolled out Miss Myrtle’s timeline, taken a piece of it and placed it on stage. It works as a window into the changing lives of one family, and definitely deserves a second watch. It’s honest portrayal of an evolving family means that, for everyone watching, it is accessible, and there is something there that everyone can relate to.

4/5

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‘Miss Myrtle’s Garden’ is playing at the Bush theatre until July 12^th!

Tickets: https://www.bushtheatre.co.uk/event/miss-myrtles-garden/#book

Photos by Camilla Greenwell

‘Come Fall in Love – The DDLJ Musical’ at the Manchester Opera House Review: A colourful, joyous adaptation of the Bollywood classic that is easy to fall in love with

East meets west in ‘Come Fall in Love – the DDLJ Musical’ which is playing at the Manchester Opera House. Based on Aditya Chopra’s 1995 classic ‘Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge’ the story follows British Indian born Simran (Jena Pandya) and Roger (formerly Raj, played by Ashley Day) as they embark on a trip around Europe and an unexpected whirlwind romance. However, these lovers have a thorn in their side – Simran is promised Kuljit (Kinshuk Sen) in Panjab, India. It captures the heart and spirit of the original, and boasts an extremely talented cast, colourful costumes and impressive choreography that draws from a range of genres. Although, the show could do with a little bit more depth when dealing with the nuances of Indian culture at times, the show asks you to come and fall in love, and overall, it is pretty difficult not to.

Irvine Iqbal as Baldev and Jena Pandya as Simran

Early on we are introduced to Simran, who has just graduated from Oxford. Although her cleverness sometimes could lean into know it all, Pandya does an excellent job of making her likeable and relatable, whilst communicating her internal struggles particularly in her song ‘Twice as Good.’ Simran recalls how her father Baldev (Irvine Iqbal) told her in her youth that to gain the same opportunities as her Caucasian peers, she must be just that. Twice as good. It is an obstacle that many ethnic minorities face.

Unlike the film, Simran already has her tickets to Europe, her trip has been agreed, and the audience does not learn about her impending arranged marriage until the latter half of Act One. In the film, Simran uses this marriage as leverage to gain her father’s permission to go on the trip, leading to a heartfelt conversation between father and daughter about love, family and culture, which communicates the depth, and love, of their relationship. This might have helped the audience empathise with Baldev and his struggles more, and not just see him as the man forcing his daughter into marriage, which is how Roger’s family see him. With the omission of this conversation, the audience may not fully understand the cultural implications of arranged marriage, and to be honest, Roger does not either, as Simran never really explains them to him. This is an example of where the east half of the show needs to be bolstered a touch. The famous scene of Simran running on the train with Roger’s help drew cheers from the audience, as did all callbacks to the original film, be them dialogue or instrumental.

Jena Pandya as Simran and Ashley Day as Roger

Simran and Roger’s trip boasts some impressive staging and set design, which continually reflects the country the two are in, setting the scene for one of the longer, and more memorable dance numbers, ‘Come Fall in Love.’ Pandya has a difficult job keeping up with Day’s boundless energy, who risks drawing the audience in more with his money and partying ways, whilst Simran geeks out over Voltaire in the corner. However, their scenes in Switzerland put them on more equal footing, and Simran’s drunk state that spawns the song ‘Better Get Right’ allows Pandya to add some comedic flair to the beloved heroine. The first act does feel a tad slower than the second, but serves as important build up for the long awaited jump to the mustard fields of Panjab.

Act Two opened with quite a magical moment. The Mool Mantar, a Sikh prayer, is played into the auditorium, over the image of the Golden Temple which is projected onto the stage. It was quite breathtaking, having been to Amritsar myself, but I worry that without proper reference to the importance of this to Simran and her family, it may not have had quite as big an impact on the whole audience as it did me.

The vibrant second half picked up the pace and exposed the audience to a multitude of dances, like Bhangra and Giddha, and it was joyous, and comedic, to see Roger fully embrace Simran’s culture. What I am more mixed on though, is Roger’s mother Minky’s (Kara Lane) burlesque-esque number and romance with Kuljit, something that I felt detracted from the main love story unnecessarily. The inclusion of ‘Mehndi Laga Ke Rakhna’ from the original film also felt like a massive cultural moment, one that was enjoyed by all.

As the second half dances to a close, Roger proves that he has taken the time to learn about Indian culture, and recounts to Simran that seva, an idea that was mentioned throughout the show, is the Sikh concept of selfless love and charity. It is moments like this where the east meets west formula really works, putting both sides of the globe on equal footing, and showing the meeting of two different cultures. I will admit, seeing one of the scariest fathers in Bollywood history sing and dance was something to get used to, but Baldev’s cry of ‘jao Simran jao’ still feels as visceral and impactful as the first time I saw it on film. The productions’ closing number ‘Holi Hai’ was brilliantly energetic and is the best thing to take as a lasting impression.

Overall, my cultural criticisms do not detract from the joy of what we are seeing in front of us – the meeting of two cultures, and ultimately a celebration of love. Especially given the current racial climate a show that celebrates the coming together of an Indian woman and Caucasian man is the kind of equality and understanding that we should all be championing. The joy felt in the auditorium was palpable, and it is rare to see so many people of colour in the theatre… you could definitely hear them! Myself included! If an audience can be so delighted by a show that showcases Indian culture, then surely, by and large, this is truly something to fall in love with.

Jao Simran Jao!

4/5

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‘Come Fall in Love – The DDLJ Musical’ is playing at the Manchester Opera House until the 21^st of June!

Tickets are available from: https://www.atgtickets.com/shows/come-fall-in-love/opera-house-manchester/

‘Permission’ at the Tara Theatre Review: A nuanced and thought-provoking take on the Muslim woman’s fight for liberation

The Tara Theatre in Earlsfield is known for crafting compelling work that explores the world through a South Asian lens. It’s latest production, ‘Permission,’ written Hunia Chawla and directed by Neetu Singh, follows the friendship of Hanna and Minza, two young women from Karachi whose lives take them in different directions. Anisa Butt’s Hanna travels to attend university in the UK, while Rea Malhotra Mukhtyar’s Minza stays in Karachi. The show touches on a multitude of prevalent issues such as freedom, protest, liberation and of course, permission. The play provides so much food for thought that I worry it almost buckles under its own weight, running at a short seventy minutes.

Anisa Butt as Hanna and Rea Malhotra Mukhtyar as Minza

Hanna’s and Minza’s friendship is the heart of the show, and their chemistry and humour make them highly watchable. We open with Hanna trying to keep her boyfriend secret from her parents, and it is clear that in Karachi, women do not always have full autonomy. Hanna suppresses her sexuality, cannot leave the house alone, and her and Minza both dream of liberation. But how to achieve it is the question. Hanna believes that she will find this liberation when moving to the UK for university, and it is here that the play really engages with the uniqueness of the immigrant experience.

Traditionally, the Muslim woman is portrayed as oppressed, and saved by the liberating attitudes of the West, but Chawla’s writing is far too smart and nuanced for that. Yes, Hanna finds freedom to a degree, she can walk in the street unchaperoned, but ultimately is a fish out of water. Her world comes to a stop when compromising photos of her are released online, and sent to her family. She is ashamed, and the audience probably think that her traditional parents will disown her. Minza disbelieves this, but Hanna’s fear, and exposure to perceived westernised values by flatmate Anushe, also played by Mukhtyar, makes Hanna question whether owes her parents anything at all. These are two very different ends of the spectrum, and Anushe’s assertions directly conflict the traditional relationship between Asian child and parent. Parental approval is important to Hana, and Asian culture, and Anushe’s liberal thinking is shocking to Hanna’s traditional family values. This is just one of the many examples of nuance within the production.

Ultimately, the West is not the ideal that Hanna envisaged, as when attending a protest, she is caught, her visa is revoked, and she is sent back to Karachi. In the UK, she does not have the same level of autonomy as Anushe does, because she is on a student visa. Hanna’s father also welcomes her home, showing her compassion, not disdain. Stereotypes do not seem to exist in this space. Minza has grown more confident in her fight for liberation, maintaining that, action is action. Whilst sometimes it cannot be radical, they can only do what they can do, based on their surroundings. Hanna initially dismisses Minza’s Aurat Marches, prompting Minza to remind her that, in the context of Karachi, a group of women marching to demand liberation is just as powerful as a bunch of students taking over the students’ union in the UK. Both are pushing the boundaries as much as their surroundings allow. It depends on the context, and depends on the person.

So, it is not necessarily the happy ending audiences might have hoped for, it does not provide any answers, but then again, most things in life do not operate as most shows do, with a distinct beginning, middle and end. And most things are not black and white. The play is a realistic snapshot of an important time in these women’s lives. It is pessimistically realistic, but also hopeful.

With such a short runtime, I wonder if the play could have benefited from a greater length to unpack its many themes. I am also divided on its stylistic choices. The two women do interact with men, in the form of several voiceovers. It is not something that I have experienced before, and while it does work to keep the focus on the two women as the centre of their own story, it is hard not to shake the idea that they are both just talking to thin air. I am also unsure whether the audience interaction works, as it takes you out of Hanna’s world, particularly at a point where she is supposed to feel isolated and lost. It does provide comedy to lighten the scene, but so does Hanna’s interaction with Anushe.

Maybe to conclude we should look back at the show’s title. Do we ever have permission to fully do anything? To live freely? To fight for liberation? If so, at what cost? Like life itself, the play offers enough food for thought to keep you full for weeks, but just like Hanna and Minza’s fight for liberation, it could all benefit from having a little more time.

4/5

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‘Permission’ is playing at the Tara Theatre until the 7^th of June!

Photography by Adam Razvi

‘The Great Gatsby’ at the London Coliseum Review: A star-studded spectacle that infuses the American classic with a newfound vitality

The West End’s latest offering, ‘The Great Gatsby,’ officially launched last Thursday with what has been described as the press night to end all press nights. I was lucky enough to attend and can safely say that this statement is pretty bang on. Based on the successful Broadway show, which itself is based on F. Scott Fitzgerald’s 1925 novel, the story details the class divides, greed and materialism of America in the 1920s. Specifically, the story revolves around the enigmatic and extravagant Jay Gatsby, as told to the audience through the eyes of narrator Nick Carraway. Although I feel the musical could have done with fleshing out some of its characters a little more, ultimately it succeeds in breathing new life into the classic novel and puts forward a star-studded spectacle which is more than worthy of a spot on London’s famed West End.

Visually the production is faultless. Linda Cho’s opulent costumes reflect the style of 1920s America and there are probably hundreds – the wardrobe department deserve a pat on the back and perhaps a lie down after this run has finished. Dominique Kelley’s choreography is incredibly impressive, particularly the extended tap dance sequence. Paul Tate dePoo III’s scenic and projection design was particularly innovative, blending physical sets with computer-generated imagery. When I entered the theatre to take my seat, I was very early, and the theatre was empty. The image of the bay was projected onto front of the stage, the infamous green light glinting, the sounds of the sea lapping on the shore could be heard. This immediate calm, especially after the buzz of the red carpet, gave me goosebumps. Normally in the West End there may be music, but usually we just sit waiting in front of a blank curtain or empty stage. The addition of the CGI made the whole show incredibly immersive, and gave the production a much bigger scale, mirroring that of Gatsby’s infamous parties.

The show capitalises on the vibrant, vitality of 1920’s America that the novel promises and takes the opportunity to inject new life into its story and characters. I am sure we would all like to frequent one of Gatsby’s famous parties, and having the novel splashed all over the West End stage in London’s biggest theatre is surely the best, and only, way to do it. Being, quite literally, bathed in the famed green light was also an exhilarating moment and is a fine example of Cory Pattak’s atmospheric work. The music was catchy too, and allowed for a greater exploration of Scott Fitzgerald’s iconic characters.

Speaking of them, they are famous for being rather unlikeable. Gatsby’s undying hope warrants some sympathy, but others, like Daisy Buchanan, whom her own cousin describes as ‘careless’ seem beyond redemption. My studying of literature leaves no doubt in my mind that the novel acts as an important social commentary on 1920s America, but not one that I have ever personally enjoyed. This is where the musical does the novel a favour – it makes the characters more relatable, and therefore more accessible to a broader audience.

Frances Mayli McCann as Daisy Buchanan and Jamie Muscato as Jay Gatsby

The addition of musical numbers soliloquizes each character’s thoughts and feelings, making for more intimate characterisation, something which was notably missing from Baz Luhrmann’s 2013 film, and perhaps the novel, as primarily we only get Nick’s point of view. Let’s take Daisy for example. It is clear in the novel that she is shallow, and materialistic. She has some affection for Gatsby but not enough to leave her horrid husband Tom and trade in her lavish lifestyle. The musical adds greater depth to their romance through some pretty impressive power ballads. Daisy is given several, both sprung directly from her quotations in the novel about roses and girls being fools, the latter of which makes her more sympathetic. She is restricted by her sex and social convention – all of which is discussed in Scott Fitzgerald’s original work. This particular song takes place after Gatsby’s funeral. In the novel, following Gatsby’s death, Daisy and Tom flee with no word. This song, and preceding conversation with Nick acts almost as an epilogue. Daisy’s song with Gatsby at the close of the first act, ‘Save Me Too,’ also makes their desire for each other believable, especially given Jamie Muscato and Frances Mayli McCann’s strong vocals.

What is interesting about this it that some critics have stated that the musical’s softening of Daisy misses the entire point of the novel. While this is true in some ways, Daisy is famously careless, I would argue that, for a West End show, this characterisation might not make for the most emotionally satisfying experience. This switch veers the iteration of the story into tragedy territory, Gatsby meets a tragic end, which I found to be much more moving, and emotionally involving, than the original.

Amber Davies and Corbin Bleu as Jordan Baker and Nick Carraway respectively

Many characters really benefit from the inclusion of musical numbers, especially Corbin Bleu’s Nick Carraway. In Scott Fitzgerald’s novel he is a subdued observer, but his musical numbers in the show give him an extra warmth and humour. His song ‘The Met’ in which he is horrified by Tom’s hedonistic behaviour and wishes he had been taken to the Metropolitan Museum of Art as promised, drew laughs from the audience. Bleu portrays Nick as a sweetly naïve everyman, a much more relatable, and likeable, audience surrogate than his written counterpart.

Another character that benefits from the musical numbers is Jordan Baker, played to sardonic and comic perfection by Amber Davies. Her characterisation mirrors that of the novel, she is cool and sharp, and quick to criticise social convention. She is the archetypal ‘new woman’ of the ‘20s, and provides a good foil for Daisy. A standout performance in my opinion, Davies’ sass coupled with Bleu’s bumbling charm make for a sweet pairing, that is strong enough to rival that of the show’s title couple. Her song ‘New Money’ is my personal favourite, and I bet that the wide-legged pants that Davies sports in it will be a sellout this summer.

Myrtle Wilson’s three musical numbers add multiple dimensions to her character. In the novel and Baz Luhrmann’s film Myrtle barely gets a look in, but in Rachel Tucker’s capable hands her presence and demise drew visceral reactions from the audience.

However, I do have some characterisation critiques. Gatsby’s past, which Luhrmann goes into through a flashback sequence, does not feel like it is given enough exploration in this adaptation. It is very explicit that ‘it is all for’ Daisy, but his rising through the ranks is not quite as fleshed out. Also, although John Owen-Jones’ has some catchy tunes as Meyer Wolfsheim, he is not quite there long enough to compete with the impressions made by the other characters.

I would like to take a second to talk about the diverse cast. Both Bleu and Mayli McCann hail from ethnic minority backgrounds, which should be celebrated. Their presence suggests that wealth and beauty do not just have one Caucasian form, and as a young Asian creative, a definite minority in this industry, their presence does not go unnoticed.

Despite some minor characterisation quibbles, ‘The Great Gatsby’ does exactly what a West End show should, it presents dazzling spectacle, some of the best musical talent out there and delivers a toe tapping soundtrack that will stay with you for hours afterwards. While it might not satisfy some of the literary purists out there, I have no doubt that it will satisfy London theatregoers this summer, which, especially in this format, is the point. It is the West End after all, old sports!

4/5

Thanks for reading!

‘The Great Gatsby’ is playing at the London Coliseum until the 7^th of September!

Photography by Johan Persson

‘Ghosts’ at the Lyric Hammersmith Review – a gripping reimagining that digs deeper into the heart of Ibsen’s scandalous classic

Countless students have pored over Henrik Ibsen’s stories and characters, myself included. Whilst his works were shocking and scandalous at the time of publication, ‘Ghosts’ was first performed in 1882, restaging Ibsen’s plays today runs the risk of losing the original shock factor. This is where Gary Owen and Rachel O’Riordan’s reimagining of the source material succeeds, it retains the scandal and adds to it. Whilst using the framework of Ibsen’s original piece, this production uses a contemporary lens to add greater dimensions to its characters, ensuring that they all, particularly the women, are explored in greater depth and have a piercing agency that previous adaptations missed.

The drama opens with Victoria Smurfit’s Helena Alving preparing to set up a charitable foundation in the name of her late husband Carl, but revelations about his past behaviour and the arrival of her son Oz threaten to unbury some dark family secrets. Although physically absent, Merle Hansel’s minimalist staging ensures that Carl is forever present, images of the back of a man’s head adorn the left and right walls of the set, presumably representative of the Alving patriarch that the family can never truly escape. The back glass wall is an innovative addition, the fog behind it constantly rolling forward – a fantastic reference to the slow unravelling of family secrets and a direct reference to the Nordic fjord in which the play is originally set. Due to Helena’s pure white athleisure outfit, it is her that is most clearly reflected in the glass, an image reading as if she is almost talking to herself… or her personal ghosts in the fog.

Smurfit’s Helena is the powerhouse that anchors and drives the play. Smurfit showcases a deft versatility in portraying Helena’s many faces, as the victim, the controller, the dominating mother but also the vulnerable woman, sometimes in the same stroke. Whilst, like the original, Helena scrambles to keep her husband’s past indiscretions a secret from her son, Helena is gifted a life of her own, notably a past in which she did wield power, and in the present, without her husband she is emboldened. She constantly delights in doing things her late husband would have ‘hated.’ We learn more about her past through her relationship with Rhashan Stone’s lawyer Andersen, this productions’ response to the hypocritical Pastor Manders. Her flirtatious hold over him is far more subtle in Ibsen’s text, but works here to make Helena a fully developed human being, and ramps up the sexual tension early on in the piece. Ibsen’s Helen would be clutching her pearls.

In a quick chat, director Gary Owen described to me that the choice to make Helena more rounded just ‘made sense,’ as otherwise the audience might struggle to relate to and understand her. He’s bang on, and her humorous snipes make her instantly likeable and attention-grabbing, her later vulnerability elicits immediate sympathy. It is here that the contemporary lens really elevates the character, as in the original text, Helena is more of a passive narrator in her own story – here she is imbued with greater agency and character which is strengthened by the backstory Owen has crafted for her.

Callum Scott Howells’ comically self-absorbed Oz is an actor in this version, not a painter, and joyously undercuts some of the shows more serious moments with a dangerous humour, whilst poking fun at the acting elite in the process. His connection with Patricia Allison’s Reggie seems much more a meeting of equal minds than in the original. Simisola Majekodunmi’s lighting follows Oz’s various bursts of enlightenment, a stylistic note seemingly lifted from the original text – Ibsen always took care to mention stoves and candles in his stage directions. Oz and Reggie proceed to sleep together, again, marking another explicit update to Ibsen’s original, in which the incest is only hinted at, never coming to physical fruition. This addition serves to heighten the stakes and keep the audience gripped, as affirmed by their gasps, as they anticipated a scandalous fallout.

While Ibsen’s original piece emphasises that it is the sins of the father that threaten the family, physically represented by Oz’s syphilis, this production jettisons the references to venereal disease and points the finger at Helena. The sin is not just paternal, but also maternal building to the overarching theme that it is inter-generational sin and trauma that threatens the Alving line, not an inherited disease. Ideas around inherited trauma will certainly resonate with viewers today.

The play also goes into depth about Helena’s trauma in a moving monologue, with Andersen describing Helena’s treatment by Carl as coercive control. Such a concept did not exist in the minds of Victorian theatregoers, but this exploration reflects society’s developments in recognising such toxic relationships and aftercare for its victims, as highlighted by the #MeToo movement. It is moments like this that the contemporary lens of the show really pays off.

Patricia Allison, Victoria Smurfit and Callum Scott Howells as Reggie, Helena and Oz respectively

The first act ends with Helena revealing to Oz and Reggie that they are half siblings, the plot point that ends Ibsen’s original play. Owen’s choice to place it here allows for a greater exploration of the fallout of this revelation in the slower, second act, and finally gives Reggie the chance to have her say, in a commanding turn by Allison. Ibsen does not give his Regina this opportunity, as in his work, at the realisation that Oz is her half-brother, she bolts out the door, and out of the play, never to be seen again. The play boils down to a confronting conversation about the blurred lines of consent, enabler, victim and controller between mother and son, as they thrash out whether they can ever survive this inherited trauma and be free of it. Smurfit and Scott Howells anchor these big ideas whilst O’ Riordan’s direction ensures that these closing discussions are gripping and affecting, and it is here that Scott Howells’ Oz really shines, his characters journey gathers speed as he swaps the comedy for tragedy.

By going for more explicit discussions of sex, coercive control and trauma, this production adds greater layers and depths to Ibsen’s classic story and characters, digging deeper into the heart of ‘Ghosts’ and laying it bare for all the audience to see, whilst raising pertinent questions about human nature along the way.

5/5

Thanks for reading!

‘Ghosts’ is playing at the Lyric Hammersmith until 10^th May!

Photography by Helen Murray