Canberra Theatre Centre | Review by Danny Yazdani
ECHO by Nassim Soleimanpour
Once in a while, audiences will come across an artistic piece that leaves them at a loss for words. Sometimes, this is positive; in many cases it can be negative; but in this instance, I am torn between what I have always believed theatre to be and what it has the possibility of being. Nassim Soleimanpour’s ECHO performed at Canberra Theatre Centre from 24-26 July, is a production worth watching if you want to be challenged by what’s on and off the stage, thematically and theatrically.
A deeply personal and autobiographical exploration of the playwright’s life to date, ECHO toys with the idea of a living history, using Soleimanpour’s lived experiences, jumping across past, present and future, and taking a tongue-in-cheek approach to performance. It comes with a twist – a new performer each night. Supposedly, no rehearsal, no prep time, but simply on the spot, gut-driven performance. This causes the challenge of spoiling the script for audiences, so I will do my best to critique without revealing too much.
Fayssal Bazzi was a ‘stand-in’ for Soleimanpour for ECHO’s opening night, but Canberrans attending the rest of the run would have seen the likes of Paula Arundell, Benjamin Law, and Nathalie Morris respectively. Bazzi struck a chord with the source material, having descended from and being a Lebanese and Syrian refugee fleeing home and finding what it means abroad like Soleimanpour. It almost felt instinctual to Bazzi, sharing lived experience with the playwright and able to move along the latter’s journey effortlessly. Bazzi radiates with a sense of mourning for their collective pasts while basking in the glow of his love for performing. It is tangible, this love, and his efforts to bring in the audience into a greater universal feeling of home(-lessness) should be commended.
No matter the actor, Soleimanpour meditates deeply on migration, memory, connection, and the slipperiness of identity. Director Omar Elerian guides the source material with a heavy dependence on camerawork – unconventional angles, green screening, and galactic backdrops. What we would call digi-theatre or cine-theatre in this day and age (think Kip Williams) enhances Soleimanpour’s multilayered narrative with a multilayered articulation. As humans, we are continuously ravelled and unravelled by our unpredictable lives, and that’s what Soleimanpour wants to show with this work: if we merge forms cohesively to tell a story, we too can merge different parts of ourselves to ultimately view a whole.
On the other hand, however, the experience feels at times part documentary, part hallucination. While it is challenging what theatre can look like in the twenty first century, it translates as untheatrical at moments. For example, after introducing himself to Bazzi and the audience via livestream in the first few minutes of ECHO, the real-time projection of Soleimanpour transitions into what is obviously a prerecorded scene with the playwright’s wife, Shirin, and dog, Echo. This happens continuously throughout, fluctuating between what is live and what is not, and undermines any traces of a cohesive narrative. ECHO ultimately reads as a series of abstract, fragmented musings rather than a united dramatic piece. It is conceptually ambitious, but strains the theatrical backbone of the production.
To come back to Echo (the dog), I assume the play is named after them rather randomly. In some press material, ECHO’s billing is followed by ‘Every Cold-Hearted Oxygen’. There is a quiet suggestion here that there is reference to something scientific or at the existential depth of the show. But its fleeting mention leaves us grasping for meaning that never quite materialises. Is ECHO a nod to science, soundwaves, or simply a beloved companion? Its title gestures beyond the stage, but the meanings feel just out of reach.
What we see on the stage – a barebones replication of Soleimanpour’s writing space with chair, desk, and laptop as essentials – is minimal and overshadowed by the three screens hanging over it. While they open up opportunities for projections of the playwright, prerecorded footage and natural landscapes, they once again feed into the fragmented approach taken to storytelling. Soleimanpour’s family rug, a small prayer-rug size set dressing, is not enough to liven up the space, despite carrying sentimental value for the playwright.
Despite my reservations, the piece is incredibly timely given Soleimanpour’s Iranian heritage and the country’s twelve-day war with abroad. Apart from commenting on the political and social oppression of the Iranian people under a theocratic regime (including himself), Soleimanpour’s innovative method and its positive reception is a win for our community. Conflict and radicalism, while hindrances to Soleimanpour’s practice, can still bolster it. Having toured right across the world, it is heartwarming to think the stereotypical narrative around Iranians can shift for the better. Even if ECHO doesn’t resonate with me in the theatre, its defiant voice against silence and misrepresentation is one I’m grateful to hear.
Danny Yazdani is is an emerging Iranian-Australian writer who originates from Western Sydney. He is an English and Sociology graduate from the University of Sydney. Danny enjoys writing across a range of forms and genres, and is fascinated by social issues with a BIPOC focus. He has been published by Honi Soit, the Writing and Society Research Centre, Salience, and Aniko Press. Additionally, Danny writes regularly for arts organisations Playwave and ArtsHub as an arts critic. Most recently, Danny has successfully completed the StoryCasters Program by Diversity Arts Australia, received a Varuna Residential Fellowship, and will be published in Multicultural NSW’s NewPoint Magazine in 2025..
