PRESS
Herald ★★★★
The Chronicles of Irania is a magic carpet ride into hand-me-down mythology performed and co-devised by Maryam Hamidi with director Catrin Evans. As Hamidi's character wakes from a bad dream to hold court with tea, sweets and initially whimsical flights of finger-puppet fancy, the Jackanory Arabian Nights feel takes a darker turn. The cut-out shapes of suns, moons, butterflies and trees which hang from a yarn that casts Christmas decoration shadows are invaded by the woman's own history in this fantastically sustained close-up on a world that wouldn't have been out of place in this year's Edinburgh International Festival programme.
Reviewer: Neil Cooper
Scotsman ★★★★
Maryam Hamidi’s Chronicles Of Irania, is a blazingly vivid 45 minute encounter - complete with carpets, cushions, and tea - with a woman of “Irania”, a mythical version of Iran, first seen on the floor writhing in agony in her enveloping black burqa, after her violent husband has thrown acid in her face.
Then, like a sturdy butterfly from a chrysalis, she bursts forth in shining traditional costume and begins to tell us stories; beautiful but sinister creation-myths about the necessary subjection of women, a long tale with finger-puppets about the failed rebellion of a courtier’s wife, and - in a sudden dark shift of tone - snapshot tales of contemporary oppression, and of a gay son put to death. What emerges is a brave, deliberately self-fragmenting narrative about the traumatic transition from a vividly oppressive traditional culture into some kind of modernity; and like a difficult birth, it’s a tearing, agonising experience, both exhilarating and frightening. Reviewer: Joyce McMillan
The List ★★★★
The pleasantries of tea, sweets and traditional stories are juxtaposed with harrowing tales of violence towards women and homosexuals. The country may be fictional but its real-life inspiration is all too clear, and Maryam Hamidi’s beautiful turn as Khadijeh, the sole performer, makes this play a joy to watch. Reviewer: Yasmin Sulaiman
British Theatre Guide ★★★★
This one woman show moving between welcoming exchanges with the audience, legend telling narrative and immersed acting on the horrors of persecution is a swift, sweet journey into consummate story-telling.
Performer Maryam Hamidi creates a beautifully enthralling atmosphere of woven tales whilst charming and enchanting her audience. Including stories of magic and legend alongside disturbing snap-shots of a woman with acid thrown in her face for 'not being a good wife', this piece touches and disturbs. Whilst this show will not appeal to the majority, it is a subtly crafted, expertly balanced tale of inequality and sacrifice in the light and in the dark. Reviewer: Sacha Voit
Edinburgh Festivals Magazine ★★★★
The Chronicles of Irania, a new collaboration between two of Scotland's most exciting emerging female artists, is arguably the most poignant one-woman performance of the Fringe this year.
Welcome. Meet 'Khadijeh', your enigmatic and energetic host for the hour. Whilst comically mispronouncing names of front-row audience members, ('ba-a-ba-ba-a-raa, nice to mee-eet you'), she will offer cardamon tea and traditional sweets. Yet suspicion lies beneath this warmth, as recognised by her words, 'You are my guest and I am happy for this, but I must ask...are you spies?’ And it is through this vein The Chronicles of Irania's stinging and sensitive issue, the weakness of women, lurks, under feminine charm. Like many others, Khadijeh's light-hearted good will is darkened by tragedy and grief. The audience are not observers, but immersed into a relationship with Khadijeh and her struggle as intimate (and at times, as claustrophobic) as the walls surrounding us all. Her tragedy becomes ours; her struggles, universal.
As a one woman show, The Chronicles of Irania depends on Khadijeh's (Maryam Hamidi) ability to engage with the audience. Indeed, she doesn't let us flinch. As a feminist thinker in an oppressive environment, she is impressive. As a host she is loveable. And as a mother, her strength is admirable. Yet Khadijeh's energetic narrative occasionally lapses into a voluble and melodramatic one, straying dangerously close to a minstrel cliché. Considering that the play is driven by the chilling proximity between her nation's myths and our contemporary news stories, this is both disappointing and unnecessary. Indeed, in attempting to theatricalise the inherently dramatic and tragic, the play, ironically, dilutes its potential power.
But overall, The Chronicles of Irania is a moving, stunning, piece of political theatre. And with the script, unlike with her own story, whatever is lost in execution is later regained. 'Khadijeh' moves between stories of Irania's history and contemporary struggles, and seamlessly so, with the help of a washing-line strung around her. This displays her beloved finger puppets, art work, and tape player. That this very device turns from representing the domesticity of her home to the instrument torturing her homosexual son epitomises the play's many thought-provoking twists. This conceit itself is assumed into the narrative's most prominent exposure: she is not here to inform us of the history of Irania, but to process and accept her own, more painful, experience. And as though mirroring her own life, her stories are interfered with, and abandoned unfinished.
This thoughtful piece of theatre uses interruptions as both a narrative device and as a symbol of her despair; of the broken stories of broken women, 'so many stories trying to be told'. In this way, the sensitive issues become contextualised under a broader campaign for equality, justice, and compassion.
For those following the Fringe's political or monologue theatre, or just to witness the strength and brilliance of this performance, The Chronicles of Irania cannot be missed. Reviewer: Mary Murray Brown
Fringe Theatre Review ★★★★
A woman clad in a black burka is lying on the stage as we enter the room. The lights dim and still lying shroud-like on the floor, she begins a devastating account of having acid thrown in her face by her husband. Then suddenly she leaps up and pulls off the burka to reveal a colourful traditional costume with bells and braids. Now Khadijeh, our hostess is all smiles and greetings, eager to ensure that we, her favoured guests, are made comfortable. Long glasses of steaming cardomam tea and Iranian sweets are dispensed to her audience.
This is an audience with Khadijeh who is taking us through the Chronicles of Irania, a lightly veiled version of Iran. Her Irania is well served by a colourful set with carpets and washing lines that are pegged with an array of colourful and evocative items. Her aim is to challenge the preconceptions and general lack of knowledge that we in the West have about Iran and the position of women there.
Like a latter day Scheherazade, Khadijeh begins to tell us beautiful Persian myths which as they unfold contain increasingly absurd messages about why the subjugation of women is both necessary and right. There is a tale well told with knitted finger puppets about a courtier’s wife who attempts a rebellion. And all the while these ancient stories are shot through with shocking stories of contemporary oppression – a mother watching her gay son put to death, women subjected to appalling cruelty. And through all this, Maryam’s concern is for her audience, for us: “Now are you all right?"
It’s a fragmented narrative that feels as though it has been smashed apart and put back together, a well written script, that serves its purpose well of not allowing us to sink back into our lazy assumptions about Iran. The play continually probes and challenges. Iran has a rich and colourful cultural history which nevertheless has been deeply oppressive to women. Now as it modernises itself to face the 21st century, the Chronicles of Irania shows us how Iran's attitudes to women are still shaped by and mixed up in its past.
Maryam Hamidi plays Khadijeh with a warmth and passion that serves the play well. Her hospitality is legend but her stories are shattering.
Reviewer: Clare Simpson
OnStage Scotland ★★★★
This is the kind of theatre piece that is becoming rarer on the Fringe: a simple production with a gripping story, told through a remarkable performance.
There are no gimmicks or elaborate design concepts on show here; just fine writing, directing and acting.
The narrative follows a parallel path, switching back and forth between a discussion set in Scotland on some of Iran’s more colourful cultural aspects and a testimony about personal loss and tragedy.
The audience meet a very bubbly woman who wants to teach cultural facts and fables from her beloved ‘Irania’. She uses cute arts and crafts pieces to illustrate her story while serving tea and sweets. She’s eager to please and happy to digress from her stories with opportunities to speak with the audience.
From time to time, however, memories from her past claw out. Marked by dramatic shifts of lighting, the audience are presented with harsh flashes from the woman’s past, events that will connect in the end to tell a heartbreaking story of oppression and fear.
Actress Maryam Hamidi has created a brilliant performance, and switches between the jovial tales and the harsh political reality of her past with ease. Her contact with the audience makes her all the more sympathetic, especially near the end when the extent of the true horror she encountered in her past is finally revealed.
Mamidi’s director, Catrin Evans, also served as co-creator to the production, and together they have sewn together a fantastic piece of theatre.
The Chronicles of Irania might not have the big production values and marketing schemes of many shows on the Fringe, but it does have plenty of pluck, intelligence and integrity. It is a great production that contains one of the best performances I’ve seen this entire year. Reviewer: Michael Cox
The Stage ★★★★
On the surface this seems a deliciously kooky hour celebrating traditional hospitality and the myths of Iran, a nation still proud of its ancient (and distinctly non-Islamic) origins. You certainly get a traditional welcome as Maryam Hamidi’s cheery Iranian housewife alter-ego offers cups of tea around the audiences and politely inquiries if anyone’s a state spy. From the outset, however, her cute Aladdin’s cave of cushions, kilims and story-telling props throws up a harsh mirror on not only Iranian society but also our own in an unexpected two-way process.
Hamidi’s infectiously cheery delivery is aided by model moons, suns and finger puppets as she tells tales of the world’s creation, the first man and woman, chronicles of Iran’s ancient kings and viziers. Woven into all this are contemporary accounts by Iranian women such as an acid attack by a husband and watching a son die, hanged for being gay. The message emerges that such a combined onslaught on the status of woman drags down all of society – ironic to say the least, given the idealisation of women in the stirring myths Hamidi relates.
The mix of saccharine traditional story-telling and hard-nosed current affairs may seem odd bedfellows but Hamidi makes it work via her character’s charm. The script and direction need a great deal more focus to make things less devised, while the accent needs fixing for clarity. Nevertheless this remains a thought-provoking yet entertaining piece that should be seen across the country and beyond in any form.
Reviewer: Nick Awde
