An intimate look at the lives of Muslim women
Les monologues voilés modelled on Eve Ensler’s play
There wasn’t a hijab in the house for the opening of Les monologues voilés on Thursday night at Place des Arts.
But when four women walked on stage, casually settled into a black leather sofa, and began to sing a naughty Arabic song scattered bursts of laughter were heard from the predominantly female audience. Soon everyone was clapping in rhythm as the performers began to dance, with swaying hips and rotating shoulders. Then the ululating began. Clearly this was not going to be a typical Montreal evening at the theatre.
The creation process of Les monologues voilés was unique. Dutch director Adelheid Roosen, having fallen under the spell of the Moroccan-Dutch women she worked with for a show called Five in Your Eyes, broadened her research to embrace immigrants from all Muslim countries. The 12 tales in Les monologues voilés are based on 78interviews conducted with women from Pakistan, Somalia, Saudi Arabia, Iran and Turkey and Morocco. But the format and subject matter of the show are based on the iconic American feminist play, The Vagina Monologues, by Eve Ensler, who is thanked at the beginning of each performance.
Of the four women in this Frenchlanguage production (the original cast performed in Dutch, then English), two are Algerian, one Moroccan, and one Iranian. Their performances are remarkable for a sisterly complicity and an infectious joie de vivre. Yet each has her own distinct style.
Jamila Drissi is a bit of diva, with a twinkle in her eye. She gets things rolling with her story about a Dutch woman, married to a Kurd, who has converted to Islam. The woman calls her vagina Zèbre, because of the way she shaves it to show off her scars from an operation for cancer of the vulva. (Before this show, some of us knew nothing about Muslim hammans, or bathhouses, and the shaving that goes on therein.) She accepts being a second wife, with a twinge of jealousy, finding her solace in the Koran, as do most of the women portrayed here.
Hoonaz Ghojallu first performs a monologue (close to the Ensler original) about a 26-year-old virgin who ponders life while viewing her vagina with a mirror. Later, she does a brilliant tragicomic turn as a Turkish woman proud of her dual Dutch/Turkish citizenship, who marries a Turkish man who wants a Dutch passport: “Mon vagin, son permis séjour,” she observes, wryly, after the marriage has become abusive.
Morgiane El Boubsi starts out as a cheerful Moroccan lesbian, who had been dubbed “un garçon manqué” by her family. She reinterprets the Koran to suit her lifestyle and contrasts her world view with that of her Dutch wife. Later, el Boubsi’s account of a Moroccan woman’s forced marriage to her cousin, although delivered with excessive speed, creates a pin-drop silence.
Hassiba Halabi serves mainly as a musician, playing mandolin and a small drum. But she takes centre stage with a vengeance to give a “lecture” on virginity and hymens, as the other women stretch wads of bubble gum to illustrate her points. Hilarious.
Both the dark side (rape, genital mutilation, incest) and the lighter side of the lives of Muslim women are thoughtfully explored here.
In spite of occasional acoustic/ diction issues, at 90 minutes, this lively, provocative show ends too soon.
Les monologues voilés, written and directed by Adelheid Roosen, continues until Dec. 15 at the Cinquième Salle of Place des Arts. Call 514-842-2112 or visit pda.qc.ca.