Following a series of performances in London earlier this Winter, we caught up with Kamaal Hussain, AKA The Thief of Baghdad, whose one man show Becoming Scheherazade explores his own family’s migration to the UK, and his identity as a British Arab. As he embarks on a wider project collecting stories of other British Arabs, we asked him to tell us more about his show: from what drew him to Scheherazade, one of the most famous characters in the Arab World, to his motivation for laying bare his personal experiences on stage.

Tell us about Becoming Scheherazade and your wider work in The Thief of Baghdad theatre company.

I’ve been a theatre maker for over 25 years.  I’ve made a number of shows, and worked with a variety of companies, but The Thief of Baghdad is my first solo company.  I started the company in response to my personal feelings (though of course, I’m not alone in this) about how Arabs were being represented of late in the media and in wider society.  I think positive representation has been in decline since the invasion of Iraq in 2003, and has only increased in rapidity.

As an Arab artist, I believe I have a responsibility to address that; and the idea for Becoming Scheherazade was conceived.  I wanted to start to tell stories that represented Arabs in the West as simply human, and like everyone trying to get by day by day, with many of the same concerns and interests as anyone else, but with an added layer of having to deal with the generally negative impression of them.

I also wanted to counter some assumptions that are made about us, both positive and negative, and encourage my audience to stop thinking in general terms about us as a homogeneous group.  This seems to me to be something which is becoming more and more urgent – the need to challenge preconceptions and assumptions.  And thus, the wider project was born – to collect 1,001 stories of people who identify as Arab, living in the West – to have their voices heard, where they generally are not – thus making a contemporary parallel to the Arabian Nights.

Your show is based deeply upon your own personal experiences, and your family’s history both in Iraq and in the UK. Please can you talk us through your writing and research process?

Much of the family research had already been done – it was the collection of stories throughout my life.  I was born in Iraq, and had, as a child, been curious about my place of birth, so had collected many stories from my parents about Baghdad, and the family there (I was very young when we arrived in the UK).

Telling my story seemed like the obvious place to start.  Both in terms of having something to say myself about being British and being Iraqi, and also because I want ultimately to encourage Arabs to tell me their stories – and I cannot demonstrate that same bravery and honesty with my own tale, how can I expect the same from them.

In terms of process, I usually workshop ideas before anything goes on the page.  I worked with a director friend on some of the initial concepts for the show, and this enabled me to be more precise about the story I wanted to tell.  Once I had the initial piece ready, I then performed a very short version of it to an invited audience of theatre makers.  Using the feedback gained from that, I then went back to work on the script development, and the show you saw is the result of that – but it doesn’t end there.  The show continues to develop – every time I perfume and have a Q&A session, I learn more about my audience, and am able to adapt the show, so it becomes richer over time.

The word ‘becoming’ in the title implies that you are in a process of change, either over the duration of the performance or over a longer project. Why did you choose this language, and what drew you to the story of Scheherazade in particular?

I think there are a number of reasons for this.  In its simplest form, I, as the story teller and conceiver of the project, am Becoming a modern Scheherazade by collecting 1,001 real stories and making this contemporary parallel of her Arabian Nights.

The process of change you mention is true of the show too – there is a change in me as I discuss my personal history, a sense of acceptance of myself and how positive that change can be – I am becoming a new version of myself throughout the show.

From the perspective of the wider project, I believe there is also change happening, or should happen as a result of the project – by creating this project, I believe we as Arabs will be becoming visible – the wider communities will be becoming educated about us and our (often hidden) presence here.

As for Scheherazade, there are many reasons I was drawn to her and the Nights.  Firstly, she herself is a strong independent woman, that seems to already challenge the preconceptions of Arab women.  It is her bravery, with and intelligence which not only saves herself, but any more women from being killed by Shahriyar – Scheherazade volunteers for this, she’s no shirk!  Secondly, there has been so much appropriation of the Nights in the West, that people think they know the stories – ubiquitous Aladdin’s and Ali Baba’s in pantomime, let alone Disney, or Hollywood Sinbad’s, so what better way to hook in the audience than to offer them something they think they know, and undercut that by offering them a real story from a voice they have rarely if ever heard.

One of the main themes in the production was the balance, or tension, between this idea of your “Britishness” and your “Arabness”. Why focus on this now? And what role do you think your performance, and arts more generally, can take in terms of achieving that balance?

I think, as I say above, the need for challenging the generalised view of any group is becoming more and more urgent.  We are living in times which is seeing the demonization of many groups as homogeneous entities, and this is the antithesis of the truth. So now is the right time, because I believe it is necessary.  As Arabs, we are often a ‘hidden’ minority too (especially outside of London).  Many people came here to study many years ago, and remained, often marrying westerners and building lives here.  Those of us that are second, third and even fourth generation are often ‘the only Arab in the village’ – but it’s hugely important to remind people that we are here, and we’ve been here for a long time.

I think the arts generally, and I include my work in this, has a responsibility to constantly challenge the status quo.  Our job as artists is to question, and maybe reflect life back at itself, but through the prism of a particular theme or angle.  This kind of commentary is crucial to enable a society to reflect on itself and challenge its own processes.

We therefore, have a responsibility to ensure the diversity of our society is represented in its myriad good and bad ways – my work isn’t about glorifying Arabs, it simply wants to say that the homogenous narrative isn’t the only one – thus challenging the status quo.  I also think we’re the ones, as artists to think about giving voice to the voiceless.  That’s a huge thing for me in my work.

The post-show Q&A was one of the best I’ve attended: extremely open, with people willing to share their own experiences. It was particularly moving to hear an audience member say that they had never seen themselves – a gay British Arab – represented on stage before, and that ‘they do exist’. How do you respond to that kind of feedback?

Thank you for saying that.  Keeping the Q&A that open is something I’ve worked hard to achieve, so it’s hugely gratifying to hear that it is the case!

I think though, in the main, it’s my openness on stage and through my story telling that allows people to feel they can be open with me.  In many ways, I make myself very vulnerable onstage, and I think that moves people to feel that it is a safe space for them to be so too.

In response to that particular piece of feedback, and others I’ve had which reference the representation of Arabs, I can only respond to you by saying – that’s why I’m doing it!  This is why we need narratives which challenge and provoke, and also show us things we’ve neither seen nor heard before – because they are real and personal, they resonate in a way that fiction can lack.

What’s next for you and Becoming Scheherazade?

I’m doing a short tour in the new year with this show, and I’ve already started to work on the next instalment, which is the stories of 4 third generation Yemeni siblings who live in the North East!

And of course to keep on collecting stories, so if you have anyone to send my way, let me know!

***

To find out more about The Thief of Baghdad company check out the website here.