Globe and Mail, Canada
April 9 2010
Beneath the veil, hope and despair
An Iranian expatriate's stage show finds its tragic inspiration in the
violent death of photographer Zahra Kazemi at Iran's Evin Prison
uffice it to say there's not much song and dance at Evin Prison. The
notorious jail in Tehran was the site of Iranian-Canadian photographer
Zahra Kazemi's last days. She died, her body mangled from horrific
beatings by her interrogators, after she was arrested for
photographing relatives of detainees outside the prison in 2003.
But that hasn't stopped Iranian-American actor and director Mary Apick
from incorporating song, dance and even humour into her show, Beneath
the Veil, which was inspired by Kazemi's tragic end, and tells 10
interlocking stories about women's struggles under the niqab.Apick's
show is making a one-night stop at the MacMillan Theatre in Toronto
Saturday night en route to Lincoln Center in New York. It won the
Critics' Choice Award at the Los Angeles Theatre Festival in 2005, and
enjoyed success at the Kennedy Centre in 2006, where Laura Bush, then
U.S. first lady, was the production's honorary chair. Farah Diba, the
Empress of Iran and third wife of the late exiled shah, has seen it
twice and become an acquaintance of Apick.
` Suddenly, everything from the roots down is changing. Half the
nation is going under a black veil ` they don't have a voice any more;
they can't speak for themselves.'
The play is told through the imagination of an American journalist
doing research. When she falls asleep, characters she has been reading
about come to life, their tales eventually weaving together through
Kazemi. `I had so many other stories that I heard, which were
happening in Iran or Afghanistan or Saudi Arabia, that I wanted to
make a collage,' said Apick during an interview in Toronto this week.
Kazemi features prominently in Beneath the Veil, in which she is
played by Apick, who also takes on one of the play's many other roles:
that of a flamboyant Arab woman living in wealth and comfort as the
third wife of a rich Saudi.
The plot lines are many and varied. One is based on the true story of
a friend's 16-year-old daughter who committed suicide while at school
in Tehran. In one comedic scene, a woman refuses to remove her veil
while trying to get a driver's licence in the American South. A
Virginia woman is killed for wearing a veil; a woman is stoned to
death in Iran; and an American-born woman chooses to don the veil at
university, having not grown up with it.
Apick herself was no shrouded prisoner during her years in Iran. She
was a child star in Tehran in the 1960s and seventies, an Iranian of
Armenian heritage whose mother was also a well-known actor and whose
father worked as a translator for the U.S. military. She became a
trendsetter for Western dress in Tehran, an ambassador of the
miniskirt, and appeared from a young age on Octopus, a Saturday Night
Live-style Iranian satirical show.
Apick was on a trip to the United States in early 1979 when, she
recalls, she saw TV footage of `[Ayatollah] Khomeini coming down the
stairs of the Air France airplane,' confirming that the Shah had
fallen. `That was that,' she continues. `Suddenly, everything from the
roots down is changing. Half the nation is going under a black veil `
they don't have a voice any more; they can't speak for themselves.'
She hasn't been back to Iran since, instead making Los Angeles her
home for the past 30 years.
Growing up, Apick studied piano (she graduated from the University of
Tehran's conservatory of music) and ballet, passions she has
incorporated into Beneath the Veil. Along with eight actors, the show
features two musicians and a singer, as well as dance choreography.
`It's like a ballet with voices,' she says.
There is even a rape scene, involving a prostitute, that is
choreographed through dance. For Apick, music and dance are integral
to drawing the audience into the characters' tales of hardship and
repression. `It beautifies everything, naturally,' she says.
`Actually, the reality is much harsher and much more difficult to
absorb, so you put artistry around it to make it acceptable, and then
communicate these stories which are essential for a Western audience
to understand.'
Beneath the Veil has confirmed dates in Chicago and Dallas, and Apick
hopes to add Vancouver to the list before long. She beams with
excitement at the prospect of playing Kazemi before a Toronto
audience: `After 17 productions of this play, I've stood onstage [so
many times] and said, `I'm a Canadian journalist.' It means something
different to me to be here.'
Beneath the Veil shows Saturday at 8 p.m. at the University of
Toronto's MacMillan Theatre.
http://www.theglobeandmail.com/news/arts /theatre/beneath-the-veil-mary-apick-finds-hope-an d-despair/article1529081/
April 9 2010
Beneath the veil, hope and despair
An Iranian expatriate's stage show finds its tragic inspiration in the
violent death of photographer Zahra Kazemi at Iran's Evin Prison
uffice it to say there's not much song and dance at Evin Prison. The
notorious jail in Tehran was the site of Iranian-Canadian photographer
Zahra Kazemi's last days. She died, her body mangled from horrific
beatings by her interrogators, after she was arrested for
photographing relatives of detainees outside the prison in 2003.
But that hasn't stopped Iranian-American actor and director Mary Apick
from incorporating song, dance and even humour into her show, Beneath
the Veil, which was inspired by Kazemi's tragic end, and tells 10
interlocking stories about women's struggles under the niqab.Apick's
show is making a one-night stop at the MacMillan Theatre in Toronto
Saturday night en route to Lincoln Center in New York. It won the
Critics' Choice Award at the Los Angeles Theatre Festival in 2005, and
enjoyed success at the Kennedy Centre in 2006, where Laura Bush, then
U.S. first lady, was the production's honorary chair. Farah Diba, the
Empress of Iran and third wife of the late exiled shah, has seen it
twice and become an acquaintance of Apick.
` Suddenly, everything from the roots down is changing. Half the
nation is going under a black veil ` they don't have a voice any more;
they can't speak for themselves.'
The play is told through the imagination of an American journalist
doing research. When she falls asleep, characters she has been reading
about come to life, their tales eventually weaving together through
Kazemi. `I had so many other stories that I heard, which were
happening in Iran or Afghanistan or Saudi Arabia, that I wanted to
make a collage,' said Apick during an interview in Toronto this week.
Kazemi features prominently in Beneath the Veil, in which she is
played by Apick, who also takes on one of the play's many other roles:
that of a flamboyant Arab woman living in wealth and comfort as the
third wife of a rich Saudi.
The plot lines are many and varied. One is based on the true story of
a friend's 16-year-old daughter who committed suicide while at school
in Tehran. In one comedic scene, a woman refuses to remove her veil
while trying to get a driver's licence in the American South. A
Virginia woman is killed for wearing a veil; a woman is stoned to
death in Iran; and an American-born woman chooses to don the veil at
university, having not grown up with it.
Apick herself was no shrouded prisoner during her years in Iran. She
was a child star in Tehran in the 1960s and seventies, an Iranian of
Armenian heritage whose mother was also a well-known actor and whose
father worked as a translator for the U.S. military. She became a
trendsetter for Western dress in Tehran, an ambassador of the
miniskirt, and appeared from a young age on Octopus, a Saturday Night
Live-style Iranian satirical show.
Apick was on a trip to the United States in early 1979 when, she
recalls, she saw TV footage of `[Ayatollah] Khomeini coming down the
stairs of the Air France airplane,' confirming that the Shah had
fallen. `That was that,' she continues. `Suddenly, everything from the
roots down is changing. Half the nation is going under a black veil `
they don't have a voice any more; they can't speak for themselves.'
She hasn't been back to Iran since, instead making Los Angeles her
home for the past 30 years.
Growing up, Apick studied piano (she graduated from the University of
Tehran's conservatory of music) and ballet, passions she has
incorporated into Beneath the Veil. Along with eight actors, the show
features two musicians and a singer, as well as dance choreography.
`It's like a ballet with voices,' she says.
There is even a rape scene, involving a prostitute, that is
choreographed through dance. For Apick, music and dance are integral
to drawing the audience into the characters' tales of hardship and
repression. `It beautifies everything, naturally,' she says.
`Actually, the reality is much harsher and much more difficult to
absorb, so you put artistry around it to make it acceptable, and then
communicate these stories which are essential for a Western audience
to understand.'
Beneath the Veil has confirmed dates in Chicago and Dallas, and Apick
hopes to add Vancouver to the list before long. She beams with
excitement at the prospect of playing Kazemi before a Toronto
audience: `After 17 productions of this play, I've stood onstage [so
many times] and said, `I'm a Canadian journalist.' It means something
different to me to be here.'
Beneath the Veil shows Saturday at 8 p.m. at the University of
Toronto's MacMillan Theatre.
http://www.theglobeandmail.com/news/arts /theatre/beneath-the-veil-mary-apick-finds-hope-an d-despair/article1529081/