Singapore Arts Festival 2006
June 13-14 | Reviewed by Imogen Neale

GHASSAN ZAQTAN, a Palestinian writer and academic once told a visiting American academic, Chris Keulemans, that if he wanted to understand Palestine (and thus Israel and Palestine and Israel), he would have to come and visit. Seeing it seems, is still believing.

We encounter the words Israel. Palestine. The West Bank. Subjugation. War. Death. Despair, every day; be it on the front page of the world section, a leading feature in the mid-day news, a song on the radio that samples vox pops of political leaders ‘speaking out’ or simply a lingering thought that refuses to stop internally echoing, ‘Israel, Palestine, the West Bank, subjugation, war, death, despair. But do those encounters mean we known, understand and internalise the worlds they depict?

Given the mass of information we scan read, listen and hear everyday, I would venture to suggest, no, no we don’t.

Which is perhaps one of the key motivating factors behind The Wall, an engaging and emotionally charged performance being presented by Al-Kasaba Theatre & Cinematheque company as part of the Singapore Arts Festival 2006. The Wall is a bold exploration of what it means to live, not only amongst and with these words, but amongst and with the physical manifestation of these words; the eight meter high, eventually 1000km long, solid concrete wall that divides Israel and the Palestinian territories (also called ‘the separation wall’).

Begun in 2002 by the Israel government, the wall is twice the height of the Berlin wall and, potentially, 30 times as long. Initially the idea, or the official word on the ‘initial idea’ was that wall would provide both sides (of the wall that is, not Palestine and Israel) with a heightened degree of security. Israelis claim that the wall is a temporary measure, a bracket that will create a small, but vital, breathing space. ‘Not so!’ retort a vocal contingent of Palestinians; ‘if you want peace and security, quit the occupation and respect our rights’ (which involves the return of land back and saying ‘sorry’).

But the situation hasn’t gone away, or even better, resolved itself, and so, like the war, it looks like the wall is going to get bigger and more divisive before it gets smaller and more bent on unification.

The Wall, an 80 miniute performance, uses nominal props in so much as there aren’t that many of them. What there are, however, are either huge, effective or huge and effective. The point in case being the seven or eight part 6 meter high, faux concrete wall that moves and at times dances, around the stage. A feather that the Japanese set designer, Noboru Tsubaki, should proudly stick into the brim of his hat.

The actors approach the solid wall like a big brother; they play near it, weave beneath it’s feet, sing to it, call to it, ask it questions about life, love, hope and pain. Whatever they do – the wall is there – sometimes acting as a solid grey blanket of security, sometimes as a cold caster of long shadows.

The performance is a series of vignettes that, through song and dance, join hands with one another to present an experience of ‘life with the wall’. Which, although Singapore’s Straits Times in a pre-performance interview with The Wall’s director, George Ibrahim, stated was a ‘satirical take on the real, concrete wall’, is many things, I would argue, before it is that. Emotive, insightful and evocative yes, satirical? I struggle to see what there is to be highly satirical about.

The most remarkable feature of The Wall is the fact that the entire thing is staged in Arabic. Which, given that more than 50% of the audience was Chinese, Malay and Indian, is a bold and rather staging decision to make. Indeed, those involved with the publicity of the show, who were obviously privy to this information, must have decided to go for the shock factor with this little pearl of information for, the Arabicness of the show was not noted in bold, or even in the main body of the text, anywhere. It could have backfired, but it didn’t, it worked, beautifully. With the English translation projected onto black screens on stage, left and right, the performance become almost filmic, which amongst other things, tied the play directly back into documentaries, news stories and films that have recently broached the Israel/Palestine/separation wall subject.

One of the vignettes is told through the Red Riding Hood story arc; a little girl wants to go and visit her grandmother but she is stopped many times by soldiers (aka the big bad wolf) and asked to show her ID. She is young and had not thought to carry it and thus the soldiers turn her back. She goes a little way and then shoots down another path that will also take her to Grandmas. The soldiers intercept her once again and this time their actions are not so dismissive. A familiar story told in an unfamiliar and disconcerting way.

Told with efficient elaboration, interposed with dance and frivolity, portrayed through everyday people trying to achieve everyday things, The Wall is a thought provoking performance that bears witness to the unrelenting pride and hopefulness the some Palestinians have about the possibility of a normal, perhaps even progressive, everyday Palestinian reality.

The Wall is being performed as part of the 2006 Singapore Arts Festival by Palestinian theatre company Al-Kasaba Theatre & Cinematheque. The director is George Ibrahim. Set designed by Japanese set designer Noboru Tsubaki.