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German-Turkish-Armenian Project Dramatizes Search for Identity
ARTS | DECEMBER 29, 2012 3:55 PM
By Muriel Mirak-Weissbach
Special to the Mirror-Spectator
BERLIN - Her name is Sabiha, the same name as the favorite adopted
daughter of Kemal Mustafa (Atatürk), who as a female pilot was a
symbol for her nation. But this Sabiha is German, and lives with her
immigrant mother, whom she calls Anne - `mother' in Turkish. This
Sabiha, we learn from her best friend (actually soul mate), also named
Anne, is 150-percent German, and only learns Turkish when she attends
university. She soon feels drawn to Turkish nationalist circles, and
even participates in nationalist demonstrations, honoring Talaat
Pasha, for example.
But who is Sabiha really? Is she German? Is she Turkish? Or is she,
perhaps, something else? Could she be Armenian?
This is the question posed by a new play whose debut took place in
Berlin at the Theater unterm Dach (Theatre under the Loft) in October.
Composed by the well-known German-Turkish author and activist Dogan
Akhanli, the play, titled `Anne's Silence,' is a monologue,
brilliantly performed by Bea Ehlers-Kerbekian, of Armenian descent,
and directed with startlingly-modern creative insight by Ron
Rosenberg. The play dramatizes the search for personal identity in the
context of a polemical confrontation with the official Turkish policy
of genocide denial, a policy which lies at the core of nationalist
identity. As the program notes comment, the production presents the
`speechlessness of the successor generations to the nationalist
criminals' in this search, and Sabiha, `by living and expressing her
own conflict, can find herself and overcome the cycle of violence and
memory suppression, identity loss and isolation.'
Sabiha herself condones nationalist ideology, and agrees to translate
a speech for a well-known intellectual from Turkey who has come to
Berlin to address a `day of action' organized by nationalist Turks on
March 15, to commemorate the anniversary of the assassination of
Talaat Pasha on the Hardenbergstrasse. She cannot bring herself to
translate certain menacing phrases uttered by the speaker against
Hrant Dink, the editor of Agos, who had researched the Armenian
heritage of Atatürk's daughter Sabiha, because she thinks the
formulations would be offensive in Germany. However, in her own short
speech which follows, she too denounces the Genocide as a lie. She has
decided to begin her speech with a joke, which is to suggest that she
too is Armenian, since her name is Sabiha. To her surprise, instead of
laughing, the people cry out, `God forbid!' Sabiha's mother has also
come with her to the rally, and when they return home she asks her
mother why she is called Sabiha. It is then that she learns that,
indeed, she was named after that adopted daughter of Atatürk.
Sabiha's mother dies one day very suddenly, collapsing on the floor in
the kitchen. When her panicked daughter loosens the woman's blouse in
an attempt to ease her breathing, Sabiha discovers an Armenian cross
tattooed between her breasts and is profoundly shaken. Later, she
discovers a silver cross and a bible in her dead mother's hope chest,
and also finds a copy of Agos. Her mother had gotten it from the
Turkish speaker at the demo, who had held it up in agitation while
denouncing Dink. After Sabiha reads the paper, she calls the Agos
office and tells the editor she thinks she, too, might be Armenian.
His answer, she tells us, was: `In this country, no person can be sure
of his or her identity.'
When an assassin's bullet kills Hrant Dink, Sabiha follows events on
Turkish television, participating from afar in the funeral proceedings
as thousands of Turks carry hand signs saying `We are all Hrant. We
are all Armenians!' and witnesses his widow's moving address. Sabiha's
final vision is that of her mother along with thousands of saddened
women like her, ascending and being turned into cranes in flight. `Now
is the time,' she says, `to break Anne's silence.'
In this tightly-composed monologue, actress Bea Ehlers-Kerbekian plays
all the roles, thus giving artistic expression to the different but
related identities. First she appears on stage as Sabiha's friend,
Anne, who says they were both born on the same day and are therefore
like `twin sisters,' and of the two, Anne seems to embody the German
identity. Then the actress plays Sabiha preparing to go to the demo
with her mother. The same woman appears as the fiery speaker at the
rally and then jumps into the role of Sabiha who tells the rest of the
story. In the exchanges between mother and doughter, again actress
Ehlers-Kerbekian assumes both parts, shifting deftly from the reticent
older woman to the vivacious, multifaceted personality of Sabiha. By
presenting first her friend, then Sabiha, then her mother, then the
other characters and having them all portrayed by one actress, the
dramatist succeeds in showing us the multiple aspects of his heroine's
identity and the clash between them. To compose such a piece is a
literary challenge, which the dramatist has met by selecting single
short episodes and juxtaposing them thematically; for example, he also
weaves into his narrative references to identity traumas in the German
historical experience. Then to perform such a monologue, maintaining
the individuality of each character while at the same time respecting
the thematic and artistic continuity, requires extraordinary
concentration and acting skills. It comes as no surprise to the
audience to learn that Ehlers-Kerbekian has won several prizes for
acting in monologues.
Author Akhanli had explored the theme of the Armenian Genocide in an
earlier novel and has been active in Germany in projects aimed at
helping Germans, Turks and Armenians to work through their common
history in an effort to acknowledge the reality and reach
reconciliation. His new effort, whose brevity and poetical structure
enhance its impact, constitutes a further contribution to this social
process of dealing with the tormented past; for, after each
performance of the short play (just over an hour in duration), viewers
have the opportunity to hear presentations by historians, social
scientists, persons involved in conflict resolution and so forth, and
to discuss the broader issues with them as well as with the author,
director and actress. Such cultural events play a vital role in the
discussion process unfolding not only in Germany around the Armenian
Genocide, but also in Turkey itself, where the citizens' search for
their true identity has given birth to a vast array of literary works
and generated a broad social debate around the events of 1915.
This new dramatic work will be featured in January during events in
Germany honoring the memory of Hrant Dink, and there are plans for
performances in Istanbul and Yerevan. It is to be hoped that an
English version will soon be available for an American public.
ARTS | DECEMBER 29, 2012 3:55 PM
By Muriel Mirak-Weissbach
Special to the Mirror-Spectator
BERLIN - Her name is Sabiha, the same name as the favorite adopted
daughter of Kemal Mustafa (Atatürk), who as a female pilot was a
symbol for her nation. But this Sabiha is German, and lives with her
immigrant mother, whom she calls Anne - `mother' in Turkish. This
Sabiha, we learn from her best friend (actually soul mate), also named
Anne, is 150-percent German, and only learns Turkish when she attends
university. She soon feels drawn to Turkish nationalist circles, and
even participates in nationalist demonstrations, honoring Talaat
Pasha, for example.
But who is Sabiha really? Is she German? Is she Turkish? Or is she,
perhaps, something else? Could she be Armenian?
This is the question posed by a new play whose debut took place in
Berlin at the Theater unterm Dach (Theatre under the Loft) in October.
Composed by the well-known German-Turkish author and activist Dogan
Akhanli, the play, titled `Anne's Silence,' is a monologue,
brilliantly performed by Bea Ehlers-Kerbekian, of Armenian descent,
and directed with startlingly-modern creative insight by Ron
Rosenberg. The play dramatizes the search for personal identity in the
context of a polemical confrontation with the official Turkish policy
of genocide denial, a policy which lies at the core of nationalist
identity. As the program notes comment, the production presents the
`speechlessness of the successor generations to the nationalist
criminals' in this search, and Sabiha, `by living and expressing her
own conflict, can find herself and overcome the cycle of violence and
memory suppression, identity loss and isolation.'
Sabiha herself condones nationalist ideology, and agrees to translate
a speech for a well-known intellectual from Turkey who has come to
Berlin to address a `day of action' organized by nationalist Turks on
March 15, to commemorate the anniversary of the assassination of
Talaat Pasha on the Hardenbergstrasse. She cannot bring herself to
translate certain menacing phrases uttered by the speaker against
Hrant Dink, the editor of Agos, who had researched the Armenian
heritage of Atatürk's daughter Sabiha, because she thinks the
formulations would be offensive in Germany. However, in her own short
speech which follows, she too denounces the Genocide as a lie. She has
decided to begin her speech with a joke, which is to suggest that she
too is Armenian, since her name is Sabiha. To her surprise, instead of
laughing, the people cry out, `God forbid!' Sabiha's mother has also
come with her to the rally, and when they return home she asks her
mother why she is called Sabiha. It is then that she learns that,
indeed, she was named after that adopted daughter of Atatürk.
Sabiha's mother dies one day very suddenly, collapsing on the floor in
the kitchen. When her panicked daughter loosens the woman's blouse in
an attempt to ease her breathing, Sabiha discovers an Armenian cross
tattooed between her breasts and is profoundly shaken. Later, she
discovers a silver cross and a bible in her dead mother's hope chest,
and also finds a copy of Agos. Her mother had gotten it from the
Turkish speaker at the demo, who had held it up in agitation while
denouncing Dink. After Sabiha reads the paper, she calls the Agos
office and tells the editor she thinks she, too, might be Armenian.
His answer, she tells us, was: `In this country, no person can be sure
of his or her identity.'
When an assassin's bullet kills Hrant Dink, Sabiha follows events on
Turkish television, participating from afar in the funeral proceedings
as thousands of Turks carry hand signs saying `We are all Hrant. We
are all Armenians!' and witnesses his widow's moving address. Sabiha's
final vision is that of her mother along with thousands of saddened
women like her, ascending and being turned into cranes in flight. `Now
is the time,' she says, `to break Anne's silence.'
In this tightly-composed monologue, actress Bea Ehlers-Kerbekian plays
all the roles, thus giving artistic expression to the different but
related identities. First she appears on stage as Sabiha's friend,
Anne, who says they were both born on the same day and are therefore
like `twin sisters,' and of the two, Anne seems to embody the German
identity. Then the actress plays Sabiha preparing to go to the demo
with her mother. The same woman appears as the fiery speaker at the
rally and then jumps into the role of Sabiha who tells the rest of the
story. In the exchanges between mother and doughter, again actress
Ehlers-Kerbekian assumes both parts, shifting deftly from the reticent
older woman to the vivacious, multifaceted personality of Sabiha. By
presenting first her friend, then Sabiha, then her mother, then the
other characters and having them all portrayed by one actress, the
dramatist succeeds in showing us the multiple aspects of his heroine's
identity and the clash between them. To compose such a piece is a
literary challenge, which the dramatist has met by selecting single
short episodes and juxtaposing them thematically; for example, he also
weaves into his narrative references to identity traumas in the German
historical experience. Then to perform such a monologue, maintaining
the individuality of each character while at the same time respecting
the thematic and artistic continuity, requires extraordinary
concentration and acting skills. It comes as no surprise to the
audience to learn that Ehlers-Kerbekian has won several prizes for
acting in monologues.
Author Akhanli had explored the theme of the Armenian Genocide in an
earlier novel and has been active in Germany in projects aimed at
helping Germans, Turks and Armenians to work through their common
history in an effort to acknowledge the reality and reach
reconciliation. His new effort, whose brevity and poetical structure
enhance its impact, constitutes a further contribution to this social
process of dealing with the tormented past; for, after each
performance of the short play (just over an hour in duration), viewers
have the opportunity to hear presentations by historians, social
scientists, persons involved in conflict resolution and so forth, and
to discuss the broader issues with them as well as with the author,
director and actress. Such cultural events play a vital role in the
discussion process unfolding not only in Germany around the Armenian
Genocide, but also in Turkey itself, where the citizens' search for
their true identity has given birth to a vast array of literary works
and generated a broad social debate around the events of 1915.
This new dramatic work will be featured in January during events in
Germany honoring the memory of Hrant Dink, and there are plans for
performances in Istanbul and Yerevan. It is to be hoped that an
English version will soon be available for an American public.