Tuesday 27 Safar 1445 AH – 21:06 – Tuesday 12 September 2023 21:06
Tunisian theater director Mounir Al-Arji, on behalf of the late puppet playwright Al-Assaad Al-Mahwashi (1960-2023 AD), received a special certificate of honor on the occasion of his participation in the show “Ma Yarawish” within the official competition in the thirtieth session of the Experimental Theater Festival in Cairo for the period from September 1-8, 2023 AD. The show was produced by The National Center for Puppetry in Tunisia, written and dramaturgical and directed by Muhammad Mounir Al-Arji, and starring: (Haitham, Nancy, Fatima Al-Zahraa Al-Marwani, Osama Al-Makni, Hanaa Al-Waslati, Osama Al-Hanaini, Diaa Al-Mansouri, Ihab bin Ramadan, Omaima Al-Majadi, and Muhammad Al-Taher Al-Abed, And Abdul Salam Al-Jamal)
Perhaps the most heartbreaking and painful non-artistic event within the festival’s activities was the passing of the artist Al-Assaad Al-Mahwashi on September 8, 2023, after suffering a stroke that did not give him long life. We are all devastated by the shocking news of his passing.
I had not met Al-Assaad Al-Mahwashi directly. However, as part of the activity of the popular theater group to which I belong, and with the support of the Arab Theater Authority in Sharjah, the group held, via the Zoom application, on (February 26, 2021 AD) a forum (Popular Theater from Rooting to Modernization), in which the late Al-Mahwashi – may God have mercy on him – spoke about “ The experience of making table dolls – the box -,” and in his enjoyable talk he touched on puppet theater with a captivating spirit, great kindness, pride, love and bright smiles, which made us feel that the dolls are living, speaking beings who feel what we feel, making all the participants happiest.
Al-Mahwashi, the human being, teacher, and great supporter of those who were around him and with him, has passed away, and therefore his memory will remain in all of our hearts. What stopped me after the curtain of the festival’s screenings closed were the words written by the Algerian director (Mohamed Charchal) on the wall of his Facebook page, accompanied by a picture of the director Mounir Al-Arji receiving the honor. That picture will remain immortal, and there is no doubt that it will be repeated on other occasions, especially in memory of… His death. I will use words that are closer to eulogy or lamentation, laced with grief and sorrow.
“How brave you are, my brother Mounir Argui, as you defy sadness and pain for the sake of theatre. This is how Tunisia always defies death to live. Let us learn from you the meaning of standing tall in times of brokenness, the meaning of standing in moments when the legs are weak and cannot bear it. At the conclusion of the Cairo International Festival in its thirtieth session, I could not ignore this man and his team as they brought back one of the creators of their show “Ma Yarawish” in a box. My heart is with you, my friend. My heart is with you, the makers of the spectacle in the “Ma Yarawish” show. My heart is with you, my beloved Tunisian spectacle makers. Let all the festival awards go to hell before one of us goes. Man is more precious than all trophies. Yes, to hell with all the rewards of the world, and because we are busy with the procession of the returnee in a box from the festival of experimentation, and speeches are a reality far from all experimentation. We will only care about the funeral of our friend to his final resting place. To Heaven, O Maker of love and beauty, to God’s mercy that encompasses everything, our beloved Saad Al-Mahwashi.
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Photography plays dual functions in establishing discourse. Sometimes it prompts us to recall memories, and sometimes it produces a document that records a snapshot – an event – of a situation, to label it, as we think or believe, neutral. But have we thought about how much pain photography creates? What did the face of Mounir Al-Arji, who was pained by the tragedy of absence, evoke in us? The image will be repeated, but its impact after a year will be different for all of us. The picture hurt me – Mounir’s face and his constricted expression hurt me, as if it were like a crumpled or compressed metal can. But that face, full of sadness from the pain of the paradoxical moment, will remain in that shot more present than in any other pictures.
The historical distance seems very vast between what Roland Barthes’ eyes captured and what we captured from Munir’s face of contractions. Barthes begins his book (The Bright Room: Reflections on Photography, translated by: Hala Nimr, reviewed by: Anwar Moghaith, National Center for Translation, 2010) with this poignant passage: “A long time ago, one day I found a photograph of Jerome, Napoleon’s younger brother. It was taken in 1852 AD. I said to myself then, with astonishment which I have never been able to mitigate since: I see the eyes that saw the Emperor. I sometimes spoke of this astonishment, but since no one seemed to share it, nor even to realize it, I forgot it (life consists of those little moments of solitude).”
Perhaps what raises the question here is what Al-Araji was thinking when he received the testimony indicating absence and presence at the same time? The absence of the deceased on stage and his presence with his name, work, memories, positions and work before and after the show. We didn’t have a moment to catch our breath. We fell asleep and woke up to the news of his death! “Saad Al-Mahwashi has passed away.”
One does not think to catch his breath to confirm the veracity of death. The preoccupation with the image was the most important, the image of the marginalia. His face… his body… and for the sake of speedy exchange of news, the dramatists’ first aid did not stop by searching for pictures of Al-Asaad Al-Mahwashi to share on all media outlets: Facebook, Instagram, X-Twitter, and WhatsApp. Some of them resorted to changing the color of the multi-colored pictures to coloring them in the color of mourning. The overwhelming black to suit the state of death, loss, and grief, all of this to make the function of the image and its aesthetics significant to realize, with us or like us, the appropriateness of the event that happened to us or through which we passed to ourselves, without stopping at the question of ethics: What were we looking for? What were we running away from? We did not see the eyes of Al-Asad, who saw death.
In light of this reference, one can also applaud the photographer who captured director Mounir Al-Arji’s face and his constricted facial expressions. The camera sound was not annoying or heavy, it seemed programmed and automated within the coercive function of the technology; Smartphones allow the transformation of colors into effects according to the situation behind which the shot of the moment / or the moment of the shot and its assumptions are led “with its chaos, its coincidences, and its ambiguity,” as Barthes says, such as, for example, the iPhone, which gives its user the ability to see or imagine the half-body of the dead person. In images, either bright colors in warm or cool bright tones, or his face is surrounded by a general dramatic frame, warm or cold, or his face becomes monochromatic, silvery, or completely black.
Mounir Al-Arji’s picture was dark – ghostly – shaky – certain – uncertain, but it documented a moment of psychological fatigue and courage at the same time. This was confirmed by Muhammad Charshal when he wrote: “How brave you are, my brother Mounir Argui, as you defy sadness and pain for the sake of theatre.”
Al-Araji was challenging all of this for all of us. He was standing outside the picture, preoccupied with its late owner, and he was standing close to him, and in front of the audience – and the journalists – and the television, and all the false virtual existence. Does photography say it all? How big, dear and profound these words seem: “To rise in times of brokenness, to stand in moments when the legs are weak and cannot bear it.” All of this is what raised the image’s status, or as Barthes wrote: “What raises the image’s status is love, excessive love.” », May God have mercy on the artist Al-Assaad Al-Mahwashi, who will never be absent from our hearts, and who inspired his family, relatives and all his lovers with beautiful patience.
