How Many SWANA Performance Artists Can We Talk About in One Episode?

Nabra Nelson: Salam Alaikum! Welcome to Kunafa and Shay, a podcast produced for HowlRound Theatre Commons, a free and open platform for theatremakers worldwide. Kunafa and Shay discusses and analyzes contemporary and historical Middle Eastern and North African, or MENA, and Southwest Asian and North African, or SWANA, theatre from across the region.

Marina Johnson: I’m Marina.

Nabra Nelson: And I’m Nabra.

Marina Johnson: And we’re your hosts.

Nabra Nelson: Our name, Kunafa and Shay, invites you into the discussion in the best way we know how, with complex and delicious sweets like kunafa and perfectly warm tea or in Arabic, shay.

Marina Johnson: Kunafa and Shay is a place to share experiences, ideas, and sometimes to engage with our differences. In each country in the MENA or SWANA world, you’ll find kunafa made differently. In that way, we also lean into the diversity, complexity and robust flavors of MENA and SWANA theatre. We bring our own perspectives, research and special guests in order to start a dialogue and encourage further learning and discussion.

Nabra Nelson: Welcome to the fifth season of Kunafa and Shay, where we delve into the dynamic world of performance art across the region. We’re highlighting the creative, innovative, and artistic disruption of performance artists exploring how their art serves as a powerful medium for expression and social change. This season features interviews with performance artists who challenged norms and use their craft to further conversations about topics like identity, diaspora, homeland, and futurity.

Marina Johnson: In this episode, we reflect on the conversations we had with performance artists this season and also go on a rapid-fire through other performance artists whose work we think it is amazing, even though we didn’t get to chat with them on this season. All right, so I am calling this episode “How Many Other SWANA Performance Artists Can We Talk About in One Episode?” We’re about to find out.

Before we begin though, I wanted to mention something that kept happening this season, and if any of my performance studies people are listening, they are going to note it to me, so I want to be clear here. Nabra would often in episodes say, “We’re expanding what performance art means.” And I was like, “Yes,” but also in my mind, the season, which was technically performance art, was just about performance. And performance, as we know, covers everything from the way we perform our own gender and selves through literally anything.

I mean, we have an episode about narrative podcasts, so we’re really expanding what performance means, but that’s because performance is a capacious term. So yes, I was just thinking about all of my theatre and performance studies PhD coursework, and I knew everyone was going to talk to me about that at some point. So yes, we understand “performance” is a capacious term. Technically this podcast is theatre, and so we always want to preface whenever we’re taking some leaps, which we took and we’re excited that you came with us.

Nabra Nelson: Yeah, and if you’re just here for the pure theatre on a stage, then you know what, this is going to really push your boundaries this season. But I think that most of our listeners are kind of interested in MENA/SWANA art as a whole, and there are just so many artists who are doing really interesting things and we were like, “Okay, this was our season to talk to all of them regardless of what their medium is or how they define themselves.” So it’s an exciting season. I hope you came along for the ride.

 So this first half will be kind of like a recap-ish and some reflections on the episodes of this season. So this will be familiar to folks who are totally caught up with this season; and for folks who aren’t, it might spark you to want to dive into one or more of them a little bit deeper and go back to previous episodes. And then the second half we’re going to be talking about brand new folks and it’ll be really exciting. So hold on to your seats.

Marina Johnson: Yes. Also, we should note though that this podcast, all of it was recorded during the ongoing genocide in Gaza, and then as you recorded the last episodes, the same thing was happening in Lebanon. So we talked with most artists about this, but it’s not noted anywhere on HowlRound because it’s something we just talk about in all of our episodes. So there’s been a heaviness to this season and also a gratitude that we have towards the artists who are willing to talk about their arts and pressing forward as we stand in solidarity with our Palestinian and Lebanese and Iranian and other siblings who are affected by the ongoing genocide.

So I’m currently in Palestine and this season we had a lot of Palestinians on the podcast. Riham Isaac, who I had the pleasure of meeting the summer for the first time is one of those people. In the episode with Riham, we explore her approach to site-specific arts and her work on themes like gender, politics and resistance. Isaac shared insight into some of her notable pieces, including Stone on Road and Another Lover’s Discourse, which was a performance exploring personal and cultural ideas of love. She also discussed The Alternativity, which is a Nativity place staged in front of the Apartheid wall in Bethlehem, which she co-directed with Danny Boyle and it was in collaboration with Banksy, which blended political commentary with the local Palestinian talent. The documentary and then the performance that happened in the documentary are both available on YouTube, so definitely check them out. Isaac’s work constantly bridges personal narrative and activism, questioning how performance can engage with land and social justice, especially during times of crisis.

Nabra Nelson: Another incredible Palestinian artist we talked to is Mama Ganuush, who discussed her artistic journey, describing how their drag performance is rooted in Palestinian futurism, blending traditional Palestinian folk music and dance with modern and diasporic influences, including Egyptian belly dancing. His performances challenge the often victimizing portrayal of Palestinians by presenting them as heroes, envisioning a future where Palestine is free from colonization. This approach is also reflected in his costume designs, which incorporate Palestinian motifs and symbols in a futuristic way, and futurism has also been coming up a lot this season. A significant part of our conversation with Mama Ganuush focused on the role of activism in San Francisco’s drag scene where political movements and radical expressions are celebrated. However, on the other hand, Mama Ganuush highlights the challenges of being an anti-Zionist artist in the Bay Area, particularly when it comes to finding funding as many grants are tied to pro-Israeli organizations. Despite these obstacles, they have created alternative platforms for artists through initiatives like the Hala Collective, which provide spaces for performers who support Palestinian liberation.

The episode also delves into the personal impact of the ongoing genocide in Gaza on Mama Ganuush’s life, work and family. She lost numerous family members, and they emphasized the importance of using their art to process trauma, raise awareness, and inspire hope for the future. They also discussed the challenges of balancing the heavy emotional toll of activism with the need to create art that is both impactful and accessible to audiences, which is, again, another theme we’ve seen throughout this season.

Then we sat down with two Palestinian American poets Fargo Nissim Tbakhi and George Abraham. And that episode focused on the intersection of poetry, performance art, and activism, highlighting how both artists use their craft to express identity, diaspora and revolution. Fargo Tbakhi is a queer performance artist and writer whose work has been showcased across festivals and magazines, while George Abraham is a poet whose debut collection, Birthright, won significant literary awards. Both poets discuss their approach to art as interdisciplinary, blending poetry, performance, and other media. Their discussion explores how performance art, especially poetry and performance, serves as a tool for expressing deeply personal and political themes such as resistance and loss within the Palestinian struggle.

One key focus of the episode is their collaborative work on the play EVE, which they describe as a deconstruction of John Milton’s Paradise Lost through a Palestinian lens. The play delves into themes of failure, anti-imperial revolution, and the emotional toll of resisting oppressive forces. Tbakhi and Abraham explain how EVE evolves from their obsession with Paradise Lost, which we talk about why they’re obsessed with Paradise Lost and how it grew into a multidisciplinary project that involved poetry, performance, and historical text. There were challenges, traditional forms incorporating everything from puppetry to movement, emphasizing the importance of breaking away from rigid artistic structures.

This episode really focused on collective creation, that importance of collaboration and how art can function within moments of catastrophe, particularly again in light of this ongoing genocide. We had the pleasure of seeing them both present work at the MENATMA Convening in Dearborn in 2022. And then I also had the opportunity to see them perform at the Association of Writers and Writing Programs—the AWP—Conference in Seattle in 2023 and then virtually at the hybrid Mizna/RAWI Fest in 2023 in a session entitled “Palestine as a Craft Question.” So we’re both big fans and have seen their work and they collectively create work a lot together. So this was a really exciting episode about collaboration and a “play” (with big quotation marks next to it) that really breaks form and leans into this performance art umbrella.

Marina Johnson: Yes, we also talked to Leyya Mona Tawil, a Syrian Palestinian American artist known for her work in Arab experimentalism and Arab futurism. Tawil, also known by her performance moniker Lime Rickey International, explores a unique blend of sound, dance, and performance art that challenges traditional boundaries and addresses themes of identity, migration and culture. Tawil began by describing herself as a hybrid artist, emerging various practices such as sound art, choreography and performance. She told us about Lime Rickey International, which is this persona that she created in 2016 to represent a future oriented diasporic character. Lime Rickey is “shipwrecked from the future” and performs fictional folk songs and dances from a homeland that does not yet exist.

Tawil uses Arabic and English lyrics, sound distortion and movement in performances that challenge the audience’s understanding of narrative and identity. Her work embodies Arab futurism, where art reflects diasporic experiences and offers visions of an imagined future. Tawil also discussed the relationship between experimentalism and futurism, framing her creative process as a form of resistance against existing structures. She emphasized that experimentalism allows artists to explore the unknown, creating new territories of expression that push against the limitations of the past. Through this approach, Tawil uses improvisation and hybridized forms to generate new symbols, sounds and actions. We also talked briefly about her curatorial work, particularly her platform Arab AMP, which supports experimental art from the diaspora.

Nabra Nelson: Rima Najdi is one of those artists we interviewed whose work I feel maybe looks closest to what we think of when we think of performance art with its blend of visual arts, soundscapes, and performances with really strong political messages. We discussed how her work is shaped by her personal experiences and the political environment, particularly in relation to ongoing conflicts in the Middle East. For Najdi, performance art is about being present in the moment and the current political climate challenges her ability to project or imagine the future. One of her significant works Think Much Cry Much examines border systems and how they are portrayed through media and political structures. Developed over several years of research, the performance challenges the audience’s perception of borders, refugees and safety. Najdi reflects on how she avoided directly representing refugee stories instead focusing on the structural systems at play. The piece involves audience participation through headphones and choreographed movements offering an immersive experience that confronts the broader dehumanized narrative around border control.

Another key work we discussed, which I really love as well, is Dress Me How You Like, a feminist performance art piece in which audience members dress Najdi in orientalist garments inspired by Hollywood stereotypes of Arab women. The performance challenges the audience’s preconceived notions about Arab identity and gender making them complicit in the creation of these stereotypes. Najdi describes how the piece evolved over time, incorporating new elements and reflecting her growth and confidence as a performer. Throughout the episode, Najdi emphasizes how her work really seeks to rupture and challenge dominant narratives about Arab women, refugees and borders. Rather than representing stereotypes, she focuses on creating friction between these perceptions and the lived realities of those affected by such issues. Her work is inherently feminist and political, though she resists labeling it as such, believing that these qualities naturally emerge from her identity as an artist.

Marina Johnson: Basma al-Sharif is an experimental filmmaker who we actually both had a personal connection to. One of Nabra’s fellow Dunya Productions company members, Manal, is Basma’s aunt, and my friend Noor is Basma’s cousin. So when we talked about having an episode this season about experimental film, we both thought of Basma. Basma al-Sharif is a contemporary artist and filmmaker whose work explores themes of displacement, identity and the politics of representation often centered on the Palestinian experience. She uses a wide array of media including film, video, photography, and installation to create immersive experiences that challenge conventional narratives of history and geography. Al-Sharif’s work blends documentary and fiction drawing on archival footage, personal memory, and speculative storytelling to highlight the disorienting effects of colonialism and occupation. Her projects often engage with issues of power, borders and the manipulation of historical memory, inviting viewers to critically examine the legacies of conflict and their ongoing impact on both personal and collective identity.

Al-Sharif’s use of visually and orally striking compositions, often punctuated by abstract or dreamlike sequences, creates a layered multisensory experience. Notable works include Ouroboros and Deep Sleep, which reflect her interest in the cyclical nature of violence and the haunting persistence of unresolved histories. In a description of one of her pieces, À L’AFFICHE / ON VIEW, Dazibao Gallery said, “In al-Sharif’s work, the word border multiplies in meaning, delineating physically and geographically, but also across landscapes of affect. Exploring narratives where official history and politics infiltrate personal lives, the artist questions the validity of images and representation, whether they too are construed by imposed technologies.”

Nabra Nelson: One episode this season was about a format we’ve never talked about on this podcast: podcasts! Laila Abdo, producer and writer of the upcoming, brand new podcast series, The Great Pyramid Scheme, talked to us about narrative podcasts, to be differentiated from this podcast, which is of course a non-fiction podcast. It was fascinating to discuss how comedy relates to representation, which is a core part of Laila’s artistic mission. Laughter is a protest for people whose bodies and stories are politicized in such a negative light so much of the time.

So in light of a pretty silly podcast set during the building of the Great Pyramid of Giza, a lot of important conversations about identity, how we are taught history and what US society deems valuable come up as important points. Laila herself is a joyful and multi-talented artist who works as a writer, producer, and actor for film, sketch comedy, stand-up, theatre, and now podcasts. I had the pleasure of being on the writing team for The Great Pyramid Scheme, so we will also be featured on their podcast in a little pod swap moment. There are so many times when we want to highlight upcoming pieces of art within our community, and we’re so excited that the timelines and themes lined up finally to really make this collaboration happen.

Marina Johnson: Immediately after the episode, Laila was like, we kept talking because it was just such a natural conversation, and then she said something about shithole color grading, and I was like, “What?” And of course we’re familiar with the effect of the Middle East, the “Orient,” given a different color than the rest of a film, but I had never heard the phrase before and we really wanted to share it with you as an audience.

Nabra Nelson: You see this color grading in so much film today where western countries are in this cooler tone, and then global south countries, especially the Middle Eastern countries and Central and South America are warm yellow tone and it’s bizarre and kind of washes out the entire space. And it’s especially annoying, I’m just going to say in the Middle East because it makes everything… It’s like they’re very purposefully trying to make everything look like a desert. And yes, we have a good amount of desert, but it is not all desert. And I think it adds to this stereotype and perception of Middle Eastern countries as just being giant deserts with no landscape and no trees and no beautiful rivers that we have and beaches that we have and wildlife and all of the things that are in any location on Earth essentially. So it apparently all started with Traffic, which I did not know. It’s very interesting and kind of relates to a lot of what we’ve talked about throughout Kunafa and Shay.

Marina Johnson: Yeah, so let’s call it out when we see it. Shithole color grading. But also, so I didn’t mention this in the episode, but the conversation went to Nabra and mythology, and I wanted to share this story, which maybe is not funny to anyone else, but because it’s a podcast and I’m amusing myself right now, I will continue. But Nabra and I were at a conference together in New Orleans, and we were walking one night and we saw a shop, and I don’t remember if the shop was called Horus or Ra, but it was named one of them, but had the iconography, the symbol of the other one, and this made Nabra, our Nubian Egyptian friend, very mad. So we’re walking past this shop, I don’t remember what kind of shop it was. It was not a place we were going to go in, but Nabra was like, “Maybe it’s an Egyptian store, although I don’t know what Egyptian store would mistake these two gods.”

Nabra Nelson: I was very hopeful. I don’t know why I thought that there would be an Egyptian store in downtown New Orleans, but you got to try to find community wherever you can.

Marina Johnson: Right. She’s always an optimist. So we go into this place that at best would be a fusion Horus, Ra, I don’t know, something, but at worst it was just this poor guy is working alone at night. I don’t know. I don’t remember what you could actually purchase in the store. It was nothing we wanted to purchase, but Nabra was like, “You know that you could be cursed for this, right? I know this isn’t your store, but you should communicate that this is not making the Gods happy to have this as your store name, and it doesn’t match.”

As is the case with most MENA and SWANA artists, they’re talking about things that are very real and have very real stakes for them and their families and friends.

Nabra Nelson: I especially got… I was messing with him because, he was MENA, I don’t remember where he was from exactly, but I was like, “You should do better. We got to represent properly.” And it does kind of relate to this episode, because there’s a lot of anachronisms in The Great Pyramid Scheme. But we did do our research, and we were very purposeful about where we had anachronisms that are I think extremely clear when it’s not historically accurate, but everything that you’re like, “Is that historically accurate? Is that not? Is that correct mythology?” It all is. We did our research and that is a part of representation.

We talk a lot about modern representation of our current struggles and identities and celebrations, but part of it is also our ancient identities and histories and remembering them properly and bringing them into the canon. And so often ancient Egypt is not included in historical knowledge as robustly as something like ancient Greece or ancient Rome. So even this episode about this very comedic podcast about ancient Egypt, it has a very strong resonance with representation that was so important to all of us on the writing team.

Marina Johnson: Definitely, and I just like to tease Nabra, but I think if we’re going to fight for representation, we fight for it in all places, including this little store in New Orleans.

But I would love to talk next about a major treat for me this season was when we interviewed Khansa, the amazing Lebanese singer, dancer, choreographer, and performance artist. Khansa’s work is rooted in traditional Arabic music and dance. And Khansa seeks to merge those elements with modern influences creating what they describe as a Middle Eastern avant-pop. Central to their work as a desire to challenge norms, especially regarding identity and cultural expression, while preserving a deep connection to their heritage. Khansa described his early artistic inclinations and recounted how performing in school theatre and music classes sparked his passion, and he really talks about some kind of classical training there too, which was really interesting.

But it wasn’t until they fully embraced traditional Arabic music that he began to understand his artistic identity in a different way. For Khansa, art is a form of expression that transcends the boundaries of Western versus Eastern. So blending western techniques with Middle Eastern traditions to create something entirely new. Our conversation with Khansa also touched on the award-winning short film Warsha in which Khansa plays a Syrian migrant worker who finds freedom and his secret passion for performance while working on a crane in Beirut. Khansa explains how the character’s life mirrors his own life in some ways, blending personal experiences and identity as a performer with the narrative of the film. That film is a collaboration with director Dania Bdeir, and it was a deeply personal and transformative experience for him showcasing his ability to merge stage persona with a character in a film.

Nabra Nelson: We also interviewed Tania El Khoury, a live artist whose work focuses on interactive installations and performances. El Khoury, her art delves into themes of collective memory, displacement, and solidarity, often exploring the impact of colonial legacies and border systems. As the Director of the Center for Human Rights and the Arts at Bard College, she bridges the gap between art, activism and human rights. One of the key points El Khoury made was about her departure from traditional theatre to focus on interactive experiences. Growing up in a working class family in Lebanon, she found conventional theatre too elitist and bourgeois, which led her to seek alternative ways of engaging with audience. Her goal was to create a more horizontal relationship between artists and audiences resulting in these immersive works where the audience becomes an integral part of the performance.

El Khoury highlights some of her most significant works, such as Gardens Speak, an immersive installation where participants listen to oral histories of those buried in gardens during the Syrian uprising. This work actually invites the audience to dig into soil to access these stories, making them not just spectators, but witnesses, and this image of audiences literally digging in soil to find stories has stuck with me so strongly. Another notable piece As Far As My Fingertips Take Me, involves a personal encounter between the audience and the artist Basel Zaraa, where a story is shared through touch and sound without direct visual contact. So there is a wall between the audience, but the audience and artist, but the artist is drawing on their arm and telling them a story. Another striking image that has really, really stuck with me is so beautiful and visceral.

Throughout the episode, El Khoury emphasized the importance of audience interaction as a means of cultivating solidarity. She believes that when audiences engage with her work on a sensory and emotional level, they’re more likely to internalize the experiences of marginalized individuals. This in turn, fosters a deeper sense of connection and responsibility. And as an artist who uses a lot of audience interaction and loves it, and lots of people do not, I love this really touching and impactful description of how audience interaction can be so important in artistic works.

So now let’s switch gears and talk about people who listeners haven’t heard from this season. This is our rapid round. You’re going to hear about a lot of really interesting people, a lot of interesting art, and we’ll put lots of links so that you can look more into their work.