Two young women from different worlds meet in a mysterious room, where anything is possible. In this magical setting, powerful women of decades and millenia past gradually appear to our protagonists: Egyptian pharaoh Hatshepsut, U.S. first lady Jacky Onassis Kennedy, and French warrior Joan of Arc. The encounters lead to reflections on patriarchy, power, war and love, and the question of whether there is any hope for a more just world.
“One thing I love about theatre is its capacity to represent the brevity of life. We see whole lives go by, follow their rise, fall, and disappearance. Here is the story of a family at turns aggrieved, joyful during a wedding, and once again, aggrieved. Life goes by. Here we see love, heartbreak, and the hope of a better life.”
A middle-aged woman recounts the highs and lows of her life in a city apartment. This desolate tale of loneliness, problems with alcohol and men, and menopause unfolds under the mocking gaze of another woman: a previous tenant who looks upon the narrator’s suffering with sarcasm and moral zeal.
This is a show about work. But the worker isn’t here, so it’s down to you. You’ll clock in at the beginning. You’ll get short breaks at regular intervals. You’ll work in a team, and under your own initiative. You will be your own boss. You will be free. This is a show about the gig economy, financial instability and bullshit jobs.
Ahmed El Attar's fascination with the family, evident with his trilogy consisting of Life is Beautiful or Waiting for My Uncle from America (2000), The Last Supper (2014), and Mama (2018), continues with The Discreet Charm of the Pillars of Society.
This time around, two families instead of one, who epitomise wealth, power, and corruption take centre stage. One from Syria and the other from Sweden, what brings them together is their disapproval of their children's upcoming marriage.
Performed and choreographed by Eman Hussein, in collaboration with sound designer Youssra El Hawary, Smell of Cement demonstrates that working with the body goes beyond merely pain and sweat. Construction workers are not insured for their bodies at work; they suffer from being away from their families, which affects their bodies. Like them, dancers also test physical pain, working with the repetition of movement. They often don’t have insurance because salaries are neither high nor stable. Like workers, they embody the constant movement of bodies in space.
In 205 Questions About Dance, choreographed by Eslam Elnebishy, the audience is invited to go on its own journey of perception and interpretation. If we can ask questions of and through dance, the answers remain literally in motion. But what is left (unquestioned) at the end? How do our preconceptions, visual habits and patterns of movement condition how we perceive dance?