Friday, 19 August 2011

EMAIL: Nassim and Lida Nosrati (Toronto)

The following is an email exchange between Nassim Soleimanpour and Lida Nosrati (aka #3) after the August 14 performance of White Rabbit, Red Rabbit at SummerWorks

Dear Nassim,

I caught the last show of White Rabbit, Red Rabbit in Toronto on Sunday, August 14. And I was simply enchanted! I had my reservations about seeing the play when I first read the publicity blurb. I thought to myself, oh no, yet another victimizing narrative by a 29-year-old Iranian "unable to leave his country," "forbidden to travel," "isolated." But as soon as the play started, no even before it did, when the producer gave the sealed envelope to the actor (the brilliant Yanna McIntosh) I knew you proved me wrong and thank you immensely for doing that.

Little did I know that I would be the white rabbit who goes to the theatre where she meets the bear who asks her for a ticket which she doesn't have and is generously donated by an unknown friend, another member of the audience...Ever since that day, I keep asking myself, what would have happened had I not been number three? Or had I simply refused to take the stage -- which would have been a more natural response from me, because being on the stage terrifies me. Or had I been the red rabbit? Or the note-taker? Or the man who frantically ran down the stairs to snatch the two glasses of water away from the actor's hands? Or simply someone who was not chosen, thinking all the while s/he could have acted better? All these questions are immaterial now. The play unfolded the way it should have. What matters is that your text has stirred a whole lot of questions about life, death, choices, decisions, or lack thereof. It's long since I had seen a work so thought-provoking yet so simple, clean and unpretentious.

A heartfelt congratulations. And looking forward to your future works.

Number Three (also known as Lida Nosrati)

p.s. And I too, like most of us, have chosen the 18th way. It was Susan Sontag who wrote in her journals that "Life is suicide, mediated."


Dear Lida,

Sometimes you write something to change a small point inside your mind or heart. You are mad at yourself or the world outside. You are mad because you felt in love with the wrong person or you lost your camera in a subway. People do different things in such situations. Some people talk to a friend, some people drink alcohol, some jump to stage or break a glass of water.

There are some people who decide to write a play. That's their response to what they don't like. That's their immune system.

I wrote WRRR to change a small point in my mind and now it's changing bigger things in my life. Isn't it strange? There is even a dialogue between the text and the writer's life.

Look at these beautiful e-mails I'm receiving. Look at this blog. An audience e-mailed me and asked me if this blog is a part of the play. He thought the interaction between me, my actors and the audience is still running in the net and it was planned beforehand in my play. I said: "I don't know. This is not me who is writing this play, not anymore."

Walter Benjamin once said: "The work is the death mask of its conception." And I hope this Rabbit who was born more recently lives long.

Lots of love,

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