Khadija El Kharraz Alami blends fury with wit in Now I am Medea
It starts with silence. A long, discomforting hush. Eventually, Khadija El Kharraz Alami, the Dutch writer and (almost) solo performer, who’s been sitting serenely on a chair toward the rear of this sparse space, says, “Let’s just enjoy this quiet.”
And then 30 seconds later, she adds, “I might get loud later.”
It’s not an empty promise.
Khadija’s astonishing Now I am Medea, takes Medea, the ancient Greek tragedy written by Euripides in 431 BCE, and fillets it, foregrounding Medea’s pain and fury at her disloyal husband Jason (he of the Argonauts fame) and her anguish at killing their two sons.
Threaded through this loose narrative is an exploration of Khadija’s experiences as a daughter of Moroccan immigrants in Amsterdam with the sharp sting of daily helpings of racism, condescension and misogyny.
Khadija El Kharraz Alami in full flow in Now I am Medea.
Khadija’s resultant rage is flame orange red -- full-bodied, scorching and righteous.
But as important as this anger is, Khadija’s extraordinary performance wouldn’t be as effective without being spangled with bright slices of humour. For example, she engages the audience throughout, using them once, uproariously, as a choir.
Khadija El Kharraz Alami in Now I am Medea.
And this is Khadija’s genius. The concept of Now I am Medea suggests that it’s an angry howl at the moon. Indeed, it is this: I spent half of this virtuoso 75 minutes on the verge of tears.
Yet the other half was spent hooting with laughter, as this kaleidoscopic marvel of fury wit and community, celebrated what we share as humans, rather than what separates us.
A portrait of Khadija El Kharraz Alami, writer and performer of Now I am Medea.