Damascus emerges as Arab cultural capital of 2008

DAMASCUS (AFP)












Damascus heads into a new year as the cultural capital of the Arab world for 2008, hosting a year-long series of theatrical and musical events, along with talks by renowned intellectuals.

American linguist and leftist intellectual Noam Chomsky, Czech writer Milan Kundera and Lebanon's famed songstress Fairouz are among the personalities coming to Syria as Damascus assumes the cultural mantle from Algiers.

But not everyone welcomes the planned events, with Syrian writer Ibrahim Haj Abdi calling them "ephemeral cultural festivities." "Syrian intellectuals might have believed these promises (by the organizers) if only they had been accompanied by efforts to free one of the country's most important intellectuals, Michel Kilo," he wrote in Sunday's pan-Arab daily newspaper Al-Hayat, published in London.

Kilo was jailed in 2006 for being a co-signatory of the Beirut-Damascus Declaration, along with nearly 300 Syrian and Lebanese intellectuals. In May this year he was sentenced to three years in prison.

The declaration called for an overhaul of ties between the two states and for Syrian recognition of the independence of Lebanon, where Damascus was the major powerbroker for three decades until 2005.

Twenty years after she last performed in Syria, Fairouz -- the greatest female Arab singer since Egypt's Umm Kalthoum -- will take to the stage on January 28.

In May a conference will bring together Chomsky, Kundera and novelist Isabel Allende, the daughter of former Chilean president Salvador Allende.

Another Syrian novelist writing in Al-Hayat also slammed the organizers of the year's festivities.

"My experience with the organizers quickly dismissed any hope... of seeing it revive the role of culture that has been destroyed over decades" in Syrian society, wrote Samar Yazbek.

The cultural year will get under way on January 10 with a fireworks display on Mount Qassiun overlooking Damascus, followed by an official ceremony nine days later.

http://www.alarabiya.net/articles/2007/12/28/43481.html

Great post from joshualandis.com

Five undeniable facts about the Syria that I saw / by Ehsani
Monday, December 24th, 2007

I have just returned from a short one-week trip to Syria. As you may recall, I had once written a note on this forum describing how Syria was made up of two countries: one for the one million well to do and another for the other 19 million. I will offer below a summary of my updated impressions since. My observations are predicated on list of what I consider to be five undeniable facts about the Syria that I saw.The first undeniable fact that I have encountered on this visit is the ever-widening gap between the poor and the wealthy of Syrian society. While this phenomenon has been in place for years, one cannot but take note of the recent acceleration in this trend. What makes this subject matter particularly interesting is the fact that Syria is still a supposedly socialist country. One would have thought that such excessive wealth concentration is the hallmark of more capitalist societies rather than Baathist ones. Perhaps the observation below can explain the reasons behind this process:

The second undeniable fact that one cannot ignore is the way with which Bashar is changing his father's long and heavy imprints on this country. For all practical purposes, Socialism is slowly but steadily being dismantled as an economic system. The new official title of course is "social market economy". The word "social" is presumably still there to assure the 19 million Syrians that they will still continue to receive their subsidized necessities and the most basic forms of state assistance. What is most noticeable, however, is the speed with which the "market economy" part of the new economic paradigm is spreading in the country. The new "Aishti" clothing store adjacent to the Four-Seasons hotel proudly advertises on its outside window the following:

Prada men's shoes – SYP 27,500
Brioni mens pants – SYP 22,000
Iceberg t-shirt – SYP 13,800
Armani dress for ladies – SYP 248,500

One cannot help but wonder how the late Hafez Assad would have reacted had he seen these prices displayed in his so-called Baathist capital

Syria's push for increased investments:

The country is abuzz with the latest wave of foreign and domestic investments. The leadership has done an outstanding job in this endeavor. Not a week passes by without an announcement of a new wave of investments from Qatar, Kuwait, U.A.E. or Saudi Arabia. Similar announcements seem to come from domestic investors in the new "holdings" companies that have been set up. Those that have already taken the risk of investing have thus far been handsomely rewarded by having seen the value of their investments in real estate (mostly still empty land) rise rather dramatically. This has encouraged more investments and a virtuous circle of higher prices and more investments to take place. The third undeniable fact is that there is no going back in this trend towards opening up the country to foreign investments and a more liberalized economy.

Whether this trend has been driven by political necessity or by genuine belief in the merits of free markets is an open question. My suspicion is that it is more likely to be the latter. It is important to note that the pace of the economic reforms is unlikely to go in overdrive mode. Instead, it will more likely be of the sure and steady variety. The already wealthy will get even richer while the poor will struggle with higher inflation and falling real wages.

The fourth undeniable fact is that the country's fiscal budget will continue to feel the stress in the years ahead. One cannot help but be struck by how little the very wealthy are taxed. It is imperative that this broken system receives a comprehensive overhaul. Similar taxation reforms are sorely needed in the real estate area. A major reassessment needs to take place in order to more accurately reflect the new market value of real estate pricing and hence taxes levied. 

The fifth undeniable fact is that while economic reforms will continue, political reforms are unlikely to follow suit at anywhere near the same pace. This leadership appears to be extremely comfortable with its ability to hold on to power. The young leader appears to be in an absolute control of his country. Those that refuse to believe this are denying what seems to be the obvious. In this atmosphere, the pressure to offer political concessions is close to nil. The late Hafez Assad had built an incredible security apparatus that has come to resemble a fortress. It did not take the new President much time to fully appreciate the value of this intricate system that he had inherited. It seems inconceivable that he will take any risk in this area. Calls for political reform will be viewed as nothing but a trap and a slippery slope that must be avoided. Human rights advocates, for example, are likely to be sorely disappointed with the government's willingness to deliver.

Conclusion:

Bashar is steadily but slowly dismantling the old socialist nature of his father's reign. He is too clever and too cautious to do this on faster scale. He is fully aware of the economic challenges faced by the vast majority of his people. Given the need to grow the economy and fix his country's fiscal mess, opening the economy to foreign direct investments is a decision that is irreversible. The rich will continue to get richer in this environment. On the political front, Bashar is unlikely to loosen his grip and institute any significant reforms. Egypt has been down this before and it may well offer a similar model of more economic liberalism without the political reforms to match. Come to think of it, is the ultra successful economic model of Dubai any different?

On the Last Day of Eid

Today, I laid rose petals on Byzantine ruins and lied down on broken walls with flowers across my chest.

Interregnum

I wanted to get Indian with my friend, E, last night, but she couldn't make it because she was at the Syria-Iraq border.

This morning, she briefly touched on her experience.  She was visiting a refugee camp that sits, literally, in between the borders of Iraq and Syria.  There are around 500 or so Palestinians in this year-old refugee camp.  They are living in tents, and only two months ago were electricity and running water installed in this camp.  They fled the violence in Baghdad and had hoped to enter Syria last year but, because of their refugee status, were denied entry.  They had no where to go, so they set up tents between the borders.

Delegations from Chile and Sudan have offered to take in some of the female refugees, rupturing families and leaving young men behind.

Excerpts from Notebook, mid-August 2007, Beirut

Will I be miserable when I get to Damascus, or is there a future for me there?  Would I have to kill myself if I got drafted into the military?  Maybe not.  There is a great security, a dull comfort, in routine, an opportunity to surrender to an authoritarian-totalitarian government's schedule.  I could write a play about it.  Maybe the theatrical imagination is omnipotent.  Because it has the potential to generate place and time from language.  In real time.  And in real space.
...
I could feel the resonance of her smile after she hung up the phone.

Al Hayat Article on Jawad al Asadi's NISA' AL SAXOPHONE

«نساء السكسو ... فون» تهتك نص الشاعر الاسباني لوركا ... جواد الأسدي يحاصر «البيت» الخراب بهواجس النسوة

بيروت – عبده وازن     الحياة     - 09/12/07//

لم يقتبس المخرج العراقي جواد الأسدي نصّ الشاعر الاسباني لوركا «بيت برنانردا ألبا» بل أعاد كتابته نصاً وعرضاً مشهدياً بعدما أمعن فيه تفكيكاً، حاذفاً منه مقاطع وشخصيات ومضيفاً اليه مقاطع وأبعاداً. «البيت» الذي شاءه الشاعر القتيل رمزاً لـ«السجن» الذي وسمت به اسبانيا في عهد الديكتاتور فرانكو جعله الأسدي عبارة عن «بيت خراب» بحسب عبارة إليوت (الأرض الخراب)، بيت عراقي وعربي في آن واحد. ولعل المشهد المأسوي الأخير الذي أطلت النسوة الخمس من خلاله بملابسهن السود، بدا أشبه بـ «وقفة» على أطلال ذاك البيت، الذي دمرته مواقفهن المشبعة بالكراهية والحقد والثأر، علاوة على الحروب المعلنة في الخارج التي أتت نيرانها على الحقول والحدائق.

ينجح جواد الأسدي دوماً في «استيحاء» النصوص العالمية وإعادة كتابتها حتى ليصبح وكأنه مؤلفها الثاني. هذا ما فعله سابقاً في نصوص لجان جينه وانطون تشيخوف واوغست سترندبرغ وسواهم. وعرضه المسرحي البديع «الاغتصاب» أثار حين تقديمه حفيظة صاحبه الكاتب سعدالله ونوس (اقتبس نصه عن مسرحية لأنطونيو باييخو)، نظراً الى «الخيانة» الجميلة التي مارسها الأسدي إزاء هذا النص الملتبس. في نص لوركا الذي أصبح «نساء السكسو... فون» (مسرح بابل، بيروت) حذف الأسدي ثلاثاً من الفتيات وأبقى على اثنتين هما أديلا وماغدولينا. برناردا ألبا نفسها جعلها مغنية أوبرا محافظاً على تسلطها و «ديكتاتوريتها». أديلا لم تنتحر كما في النص الأصلي وماغدولينا جعلها تقتل أباها عن غير قصد. الخادمتان اختصرهما في خادمة واحدة هي لابونتيا... لكنه لم يبدل الأسماء ودمج الفصحى بالعامية ساعياً الى ترسيخ أكثر من مستوى للّغة المسرحية تماشياً مع مستويات العرض المسرحي نفسه الذي تراوح بين الغروتسك أو التضخيم والبورلسك والأسلبة والواقعية والباروديا أو المحاكاة الساخرة التي لم ينج منها حتى الغناء الاوبرالي المزدوج (ديو) بين برناردا والخادمة. ونجح الأسدي في دمج الأنواع هذه مشهدياً جاعلاً من اللعبة المسرحية لعبة بصرية تهذي وتتفجر.

إنها «خشبة» جواد الأسدي أولاً وأخيراً. سينوغرافيا بديعة بألوانها المتنافرة (الأسود، الأحمر...) وجداريتها التي وضعها الرسام العراقي جبر علوان الذي صمم أيضاً الديكور والملابس. والنسوة اللواتي عُرف علوان بهن لم يغبن عن مخيلة الأسدي (أديلا حين تتمدد بجسدها المتفجر على الطاولة أو على الكنبة) وهن كنّ حاضرات في صالة المسرح عبر معرضٍ جميل، بأوضاعهن الجسدية (والنفسية). وبدا المعرض مدخلاً الى المسرحية، مدخلاً جمالياً ودرامياً. شاء الأسدي خشبته أكثر من خشبة: عالم داخلي تفصله عن «معترك» النسوة ستارة من «نيلون» كأنها غشاء بكارة حيناً وراءها يكمن عالم اللاوعي الذي يتفجر حين تنفتح (الستارة) بعنف غالباً، أو كأنها تارة جدار تتعارك معه الفتاتان، جدار سجن هو البيت نفسه. واختلق الأسدي أيضاً خشبة هامشية او زاوية للجدة العجوز الخرقاء والمهلوسة التي أدى شخصيتها ببراعة الممثل رفعت طربيه موظــفاً طاقــاته خـــلف قناع تلك العجوز التي تعيــــش على حافة «الذكريات» والهواجس الجنسية.

عالم داخلي، مغلق ومسوّر، تفجره النسوة المتشابهات، الأم والفتاتان والجدة والخادمة وكأنهن أمام مرايا ذواتهن وأجسادهن المقموعة. ضحايا و «جزارون» في وقت واحد، مسكونات بالكراهية والبغضاء، ينتظرن اللحظة التي تتيح لهن الانتقام من «الآخر» ومن أنفسهن، هن اللواتي وجدن في صورتهن صورة القامع نفسه. موت الزوج والأب لم يكن إلا موتاً للماضي السلبي: الزوجة برنردا التي تألمت لموته ظاهراً وجدت في هذا الموت متنفساً لها وراحة لن تطول كثيراً. لقد تحررت من هذا الجسد «المعطل» الذي مكث عشرة أعوام في فراش المرض وهي عشرة أعوام من الحرمان الجنسي. أما الابنتان فقد انتهتا عبر موته من فكرة «الأب» الغائب أصلاً و «الخائن» الذي لم يكن يبالي إلا بنفسه وهواياته وحياته الخاصة. حتى الخادمة لم تستطع أن تكن له المحبة، مثله مثل برناردا المتسلطة التي تعاملها باحتقار وقسوة لكونها الخادمة، على رغم انها كانت أداتها لتتسقط أخبار الابنتين، ولم تكن الخادمة تتوانى عن الوشاية بهما انتقاماً لنفسها.

عالم من الكراهية والكبت والبغضاء المتبادلة تصنعه نسوة مكبوتات ومحرومات يسعين الى انتهاز الفرصة كي يقتلن بعهن بعضاً، كي يقتتلن ويدمرن حياتهن المدمرة أصلاً. هكذا ذهب جواد الأسدي بعيداً في رسم ملامح هذه النسوة، متخطياً الملامح التي كان رسمها لوركا، معتمداً القسوة واللاوعي والحوافز النفسية الخبيئة. برنردا ألبا، الأم القاسية تجد نفسها وحيدة، ليس بعد موت الزوج وإنما بعد تحررها منه. الحداد الذي تعلنه كأنما تعلنه على نفسها، هي مغنية الأوبرا التي لم تبق لها سوى الذكريات. تلجأ الى الغناء الأوبرالي والكنسي (السرياني...) وبعض الفلامنكو (ظهر في البداية أيضاً) بحثاً عن عزاء. تمارس على ابنتيها سطوتها تعويضاً عما فاتها، لكنها لا تتمكن من قتل ما بقي من حنان الأم. هنا تكمن قوة هذه الشخصية التي جسدتها بقوة ورقة في وقت واحد المغنية جاهدة وهبي التي كانت احدى مفاجآت العرض. الابنتان أو الاختان، أديلا (ايفون الهاشم في إطلالة جميلة جداً) وماغدولينا (نادين جمعة في اداء قدير)، تفيضان بالكره والبغض، تشي واحدتهما بالأخرى، وتغار واحدتهما من الأخرى، خصوصاً في ما يتعلق بالجنس و «رجل الاسطبل». فتاتان تعيشان بجسديهما المحرّقين الى الرغبة، بل بالأحرى بهواجسهما الجنسية و «الفانتسمات» المتفجرة. جسدان على حافة الانهيار، يحتاجان الى نار الرجل التي تشعل فيهما اللذة. جسدان متألمان من شدة الحرمان وسط هذا السجن، وسط هذه العزلة القاتلة. حتى الخادمة التي أدت دورها عايدة صبرا بمهارة فائقة مازجة بين التضخيم والأسلبة والسخرية، بدت تعيش هاجس الجنس، لكنها راحت، بخبثها كضحية، تذكّيه في الأخريات، لا سيما في برناردا ألبا، التي ذكرتها مرة بعجزها عن الاستمناء. ولم تنجُ الجدة بدورها من هذه الفانتسمات» التي باح بها جسدها العاجز.

دخل جواد الأسدي أعماق هؤلاء النسوة ونفذ الى لاوعيهن وهواجسهن وأحوالهن الداخلية وفجّرها، فاذا بهن كتل من لحم ودم وشبق وحقد وبغضاء. يكرهن العالم (البيت) مثلما يكرهن صورهن، مثلما يكرهن بعضهن بعضاً، مثلما يكرهن فكرة الأب والأم والسلطة كيفما تجسدت. وعوض ان تنتحر اديلا تُجنّ، وهكذا شقيقتها. انها القسوة التي طالما انتهجها جواد الأسدي، القسوة التي لا تطهّر الذات إلا بالعنف الداخلي بالموت، القسوة التي تجيب على الأسئلة التي لا أجوبة لها، عبر إلغائها. وعندما تجد النسوة أنفسهن أمام لحظة الموت (المجازي) أو العزلة المطلقة يلجأن الى التداعي من خلال «المونولوغ» مواجهاتٍ أنفسهن بأنفسهن. الأم والابنتان والخادمة، جميعهن يلجأن الى «الاعتراف»، اعتراف ما قبل الموت، ما قبل الخراب الذي سيدمر البيت. ولعل أجمل «مونولوغ» هو الذي تبادلته ماغدولينا مع الخادمة، وقد غدا «مونولوغاً» بصوتين انطلاقاً من دفتر المذكرات الذي دونتها ماغدولينا.

يجيد جواد الأسدي العمل على الممثل وكانه عماد اللعبة المسرحية. فالعرض هو عرض الممثلين مثلما هو قائم على السينوغرافيا والديكور والموسيقى والحوار... يعطي الأسدي الممثلين فرصة تحقيق ذواتهم انطلاقاً من الشخصيات التي يبنيها باحكام ومن العلاقات التي ينسجها بمتانة. يجد الممثل نفسه على خشبة الأسدي وجهاً لوجه أمام ذاته متجلية في ذات الشخصية التي يؤديها. هنا يصبح التمثيل بحسب الأسدي تجسيداً للذات الانسانية، بصراعها الداخلي وهواجسها وأحاسيسها العميقة. لكن التمثيل لن يخلو أيضاً من فن اللعب لا سيما في لحظات الهتك والسخرية والتضخيم.

لم يكن من المفارق أن يحول جواد الأسدي «بيت برناردا ألبا» بيتاً عراقياً وعربياً وأن يدمره ويجعله أطلالاً، مغلّباً طابع التشاؤم على المصير أو المستقبل، فالمأساة التي عاشها ويعيشها كمواطن منفي ومقتلع تشهد على عمق التجربة التي يكابدها. والمهم أن «الخطاب» المأسوي هذا ابتعد كل البعد عن التفجع والمأسوية المباشرة (والكربلائية العراقية) من خلال اللعبة الدرامية الفاتنة التي أدتها هؤلاء النسوة – الممثلات والتي توازت فيها السخرية العابثة والفجيعة الداخلية. انهن «نساء السكسو... فون» كما عبّر العنوان. وكلمة «السكسو...» ليست هي «الساكسو...» انها اللفظة الموسيقية المحرّفة بغية ان تشمل حال الجسد. انه العزف الموسيقي على مقام الجسد. وما أجمل هذا العزف حقاً.

Review: "Crying of My Mother"

Stripped of their galabayehs, they stand quietly with their backs to us under the soft blue light, their breath drifting like smoke in the frigid air. The expansion-contraction of their torsos is deep at first, but it slowly gives way to calm. Simple and ethereal, the closing stillness of "Crying of my Mother" is pregnant with a serene abandon that left us in the audience molten.

Choreographed by Muhannad Rasheed and featuring Rasheed and Duraid Abbass, the twenty-five minute dance performance ran December 1st through 3rd at Teatro in Damascus, Syria. The only private performance space in the city, Teatro is an old Damascene house cum theatre institute and production venue founded and directed by May Skaf, a well-known television and film actress in Syria. The performance took place in the central courtyard whose grand two-story arch has been rendered a proscenium.

The piece opens with Rasheed and Abbass in khakhi galabayehs cradled together before a fire. Rasheed's hand stretches forth taking in the heat while Abbass combs through his companion's afro. Their bodies, twin fetuses in a womb, are barely distinguishable from one another, and the moment denotes a sense of isolation as if the two worn men were resting for a night in the midst of a taxing journey.

But they are not desperate, not hopeless; rather, a tranquility, albeit one loaded with heavy fatigue, colors the scene. They have each other. The unbridled intimacy, at once brotherly and romantic, establishes a pianissimo, legato foundation from which the performance evolves. The movement takes on a staccato dynamic, and the bodies become disfigured and even corpse-like. Afterwards, the piece crescendos into a scene of mourning and concludes with a moment of ethereal peace.

As such, "Crying of my Mother" broaches the subject of death as metamorphosis. The transformation is, however, twofold: we witness shifts in the corporal and the gender identities of the dancers. After the theme of corpsed bodies builds momentum, the men slowly lift their galabayehs over their heads and clench their collars shut under their chin in silhouette, evoking images of mourning women in a chador, burqa, or jilaabah.

The quaking intensifies, and the performance climaxes as the men slowly pull the galabayehs off their bodies, shedding their skin and letting it fall to the ground. So, mourning entails the man's adoption the body of the woman--the mother--as a surrogate. Whereas the male body is the site of physical pain and death, it is the female body that carries the burden of emotional suffering, and it is the female body that has transformative agency, taking in the dancers--tortured, murdered, and left for dead--and bearing forth reborn, naked bodies.

Duraid and Abbass and their families were displaced by the 2003 American invasion of Iraq and subsequent civil-war and are refugees in Syria. Throughout the next couple weeks, "Crying of my Mother" will travel to the Netherlands and to Italy. The migration of the art and artists is a testament to the paradoxical realities of the military industrial complex which serves to colonize and to ravage peoples on the one the hand and to foster and to circulate the cultural production of pillaged societies on the other.

The St. Andrew's Ball

We left early. The champagne was tasty, but the St. Andrew's Ball at the Four Seasons last night did little more than confirm my disdain for expatriates, especially Americans and Brits, in Damascus.

I picked up my tuxedo from my aunt's house on Thursday afternoon in anticipation of my first Damascus ball, thinking Four Seasons + Damascenes + maziqa + dancing + open bar + Glam^3 = unforgettable. No one does Glam better than Damascus. No one. Except maybe Fergie.

The "chieftain" of the Caledonian Society, a hoary chum with eyebrows like ashen tumbleweeds, greeted us at the top of the staircase. His Lucky Charms shoes matched his kilt, and his Scottish accent rang with charming vigor. He directed us towards the saggy-faced lady.

"Table 31, Loch Lunaig," she said, dropping our tickets in the giant raffle tub. "Y'can see the tayble chart o'er dere." We glanced across the room past the dozens of men in kilts and marching band outfits and spotted--not the chart--but floating trays of champagne.

It's been ages since I've seen so many Caucasians. Where did all these expats come from? Where are they hiding in Damascus? I didn't see but a handful of Arabs. At first, I thought, "Duh, obviously, they'll show up at least an hour late." But I was wrong.

Thank the lord our table featured a bottle of Glenmorangie Scotch; otherwise, my friend Sh and I would have dropped dead of nausea. There were six Americans at our table, four of whom were teachers at the Damascus Community School. They looked and sounded like they had been plucked from their minivans in rural Nebraska and dropped in Syria. They knew little to nothing about this place and, aside from discrete comments about their cats who eat their scarves, had trouble conversing.

It was a nightmare featuring Laura Ingalls Wilder and friends. Remember those girls and boys from high school at Woodward who were so dull they just kind of blended into the background? Yeah, they were there, too.

After the British Ambassador's endless monologue about global warming (what the hell?!), the chieftain took the mic and invited everyone to the dance floor. The lead singer of the band, flown in from Scotland, proceeded to dictate dance instructions to the two hundred strong herd. When we saw the girl in the jester outfit doing a Scottish jig, we knew it was time to evacuate.