By Kait Fowlie

Wow. I don’t think I’ve been so outwardly emotional in public since H&M had that crazy jacket sale a while back. I could try and play it off like it was the 3 dollar wine spritzers that tipped me off the emotional edge, but I can’t front – Heather Raffo’s masterful quilt of stories in 9 Parts of Desire totally robbed me of my ego. I went to the Theatre Centre on the opening night to witness a stunning manifestation of a few righteous females’ creative splendour.

The cast of 9 women, all playing Iraqi natives, each perform a monologue about their experience with freedom. Far from being a homogenous perspective, the troupe consists of (to name a few) a sexually liberated painter, a young woman living in New York City, a pop video watching teen, a woman in exile, and a hopeful bride who travels to the states to meet her phone lover for the first time. They are all bound together by suffering in their homeland. The unifying theme of survival connects them all. The play begins with the 9 cloaked actors gathering around a river and throwing in used shoes (“tired old soles”). Then, one by one, each takes off their black shawls to reveal themselves, speaking to the audience as if they are speaking intimately to a friend. There is nothing superficial about their performances, either. These characters lay down some serious business and don’t hold back. One, a doctor, makes her entrance by vomiting off to the side of the stage, then begins a graphic account of the genetic mutation occurring in the community – babies born with no heads, or two heads, resulting from the depleted uranium and chemical deposits from the Gulf war.

The acting was incredible, but the character that really spoke to me was the painter – played by Christine Aubin Khalifah. Her character chooses to pursue her painting career, but is forced to fulfill the sexual desires of members of the regime to survive. She laments being called a whore, and wishes for the whimsical days of art school. In a triumphant act of artistic / political badassism, reflective of the play itself, she hatches a plan to make a mosaic of Bush’s face on the floor of an influential hotel so that everyone can walk on it (Ha!) She asks herself and the audience, what are you creating with your freedom?

The play brings a contemporary audience closer to the history of the suffering in Iraq. Many of the issues it sheds light on are incomprehensible in the context of a Toronto theatre, but the incredible cast, music, and smart symbolism all make this play an enlightening experience. Be warned, don’t take a date who will be scared away by an eye makeup disaster. The play will run till Sunday May 23, at the Theatre Center on 1087 Queen West at Dovercourt. Tickets are 25$ for an evening, 20$ for a matinee. Book at the theatre center 1 hour before the show, or call 416-538-0988 to reserve a spot.