Hidden Depths: An Interview with Director Arya Shahi
What drew you to the world of English?
When English premiered in New York City, the Iranian American community was sincerely joyous. That was a rare—and deeply cool—feeling. It marked a shift in the American theatre that so many of us had been waiting our whole lives for. It is very hard to do what the playwright, Sanaz Toossi, has done. To be graceful and funny and honest while telling a story about the pain at the core of a cultural crisis. My work with PigPen Theatre Co. does not center my Iranian identity or my parents’ country of origin. And, truthfully, my artistic life has always felt disconnected from my home life, even before PigPen. After the presidential election in 2016, I committed myself to broadening the scope of my focus. I wanted to be braver. I wanted to bring the things I’d learned as a storyteller to projects that were important not only to me, but to my community and my family.
What about this play excites you?
I love that it’s a play about language. I’ve always been a word nerd. I just wrote a novel about Farsi, English, rap, and Shakespeare. I love words. For the past four years, I’d been writing this book about an English-speaking boy who was trying to learn Farsi. Then, just weeks before its publication, Barry Edelstein sent me Sanaz’s beautiful script about this group of Farsi speakers trying to learn English. It felt like kismet. A perfect next project. This play is about the way we must reinvent ourselves every time we learn a new method of communication. I love that it’s a story about adults who are put in this position of forced adolescence. We’re treated to the spectacle of people trying to be the best versions of themselves but not having the tools to do so.
Last time you were here at The Old Globe, you were in the Old Globe Theatre. This time, you are directing for the Sheryl and Harvey White Theatre. How does the space shape the way you are thinking about the play?
I’ve always admired the Sheryl and Harvey White Theatre, not only because I love smaller spaces, but also because it’s in the round! I’m curious how this play operates in the round. It’s never been staged this way before. There’s something innately communal about seeing a fellow audience member (most likely a stranger) across the way, just beyond the border of the story. Can the audience feel like they are going to class with our characters?
Could you talk a little about your thoughts on learning a new language and being bilingual?
I think it’s always worth being reminded that an accent is the residue of a second mode of being. We often hear an accent and think of inadequacy. We think this person does not have substance because their way of speaking is flawed. But, the accent means there’s a whole world you’re not seeing. The accent should demand not only our attention but our curiosity. I grew up bilingual, but I struggle in Farsi. Whenever I hear someone struggling with language, I immediately think of myself and how badly I fear being misunderstood. If our show can translate that experience for the audience members who are monolingual, that would be powerful.
Anything else you would like to tell our audience?
The only thing left to say is the most important thing: you should go get some Persian food after the show. It will not disappoint. It never has. In the history of history. Not once. Go and enjoy yourself.
Photo by Rita Corona.
