Photograph by Dan Norman
Noura at the Guthrie
In a starkly beautiful opening scene, Noura sits outside of her apartment in a quiet moment of reflection. The scene is the deep breath you need before diving into 90 minutes of tension where you find yourself both opposite Noura and also standing alongside her. You will admire her, you will judge her, you will defend her, and you will empathize with her.
In fact, much of the beauty of Noura lies in the familiarity of it. Not only do you recognize yourself in it, but you recognize how the shaky concept of identity makes for a dangerous personal foundation.
As the show opens, lead character Noura, an Iraqi immigrant, reflects on her eight years living in New York, wondering how she can continue to bring her Iraqian heritage into her new home, while her son and husband effortlessly change their names—her husband Tareq is now Tim, her son Yazen is now Alex. Christmas is nearing, and Noura invites Maryam, a college-aged Iraqian refugee she’s been sponsoring to join them for the holiday. Excited for a strengthened connection to her home country, Noura is frantic with nerves and excitement.
As a dialogue-heavy play that reveals secrets through conversation and relives memories of the past through personal narrative storytelling, you must listen attentively in order to catch the wave of complexity coming right for you. When it comes to preserving heritage while growing a community, playwright Heather Raffo is not only making a statement, she is starting the conversation. And she’s inviting (and perhaps even expecting) you to be a part of it.
Initially, the story seems to be that of a Christmastime gathering with a slightly more cultural twist than you’re used to. On the front end, the characters work in realms that are relatively familiar: How to give the ultimate gift, how to prepare a special family meal, and how to address the whitewashed Christmas pageant costumes when your son is playing one of the three wisemen. But things bubble over into dramatic uncertainty as the big Christmas dinner fosters some tense topics. In a comically familiar awkward dinner scene, secrets begin to slip out one by one and Noura is left catching them before they break wide open.
The Christmas setting of the play is not lost nor overdone. Rather it serves as a catalyst for emotions (positive and negative) to heighten. In a sweet moment, Noura and Yazen take a catnap under the Christmas tree and Noura’s dinner preparations are doused in the importance of a major holiday. As things begin to fall apart, we are again reminded that honesty and long-repressed feelings can overshadow the prescribed importance of holiday togetherness.
The set design itself is littered with the tentativeness of Noura’s mind. In their eight years of living in New York, Noura decidedly won’t buy a sofa, and instead the characters perch on the edge of the dining table. Walls are made of moving boxes and an absurdly tall Christmas tree towers over the rest of their home, reminding us of the holiday’s significance for the family.
Noura’s complexity is a familiar one, too: she’s strong in her desires and she gets what she wants because she fights for it. And yet, she is clumsily over-welcoming in both big and small ways. She makes tea as soon as someone walks in the door, but she also insists on paying for Maryam’s cross-country flight in order to host her for Christmas dinner. Gamze Ceylan (Noura) emphasizes Noura’s intense internal conflict with a thoughtful attitude. She plays the character with the determination of someone taking charge and the urgency of someone who has experienced great loss.
Characters Yazen and Maryam seem to be two sides of the same coin for Noura. Yazen, still young in his mother’s eyes, is slowly slipping away from her, much like her past in Iraq. Although Yazen has bright affection for his mother, having spent his youth in the United States, he seems to be Americanized by Playstation and the allure of skipping tradition for convenience. Maryam, on the other hand, who was raised in an orphanage and now attends university in California, might be Noura’s last hope. Wishing for a bond to her home, Noura believes Maryam might be her metaphorical ticket. When Maryam cannot offer the connection that Noura wants, we return again to the question of identity. Can we find our identity in someone other than ourselves?
As Raffo writes in her feature, the play centers on the intersection of individualism and community in how it relates to culture and heritage. Must you let go of one piece of yourself in order to grow another? The play first asks us if it’s possible, and then if it is necessary.
Throughout Noura, characters are either working to sew their identities together, or working to tear them apart. The tension rises first from anticipation, and then from revealed secrets. Noura finds herself guilt-ridden and haunted by the moments where she felt she had to choose between individuality and community. Haunted by those decisions, she strives to make “both” a viable option in her future. Bringing together those closest to her, she orchestrates the ultimate test asking: Can these identities all work together?
Noura runs until February 16, 2020. Visit guthrietheater.org for more information regarding performances, post-play discussions, and a special Celebration of Arab Artistry event on January 26.
