{"id":20125010,"date":"2025-12-28T14:30:30","date_gmt":"2025-12-28T13:30:30","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.dabangasudan.org\/?p=20125010"},"modified":"2025-12-28T14:31:22","modified_gmt":"2025-12-28T13:31:22","slug":"playwright-sayed-sawsal-on-the-state-of-the-arts-in-sudan","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.dabangasudan.org\/en\/all-news\/article\/playwright-sayed-sawsal-on-the-state-of-the-arts-in-sudan","title":{"rendered":"Playwright Sayed Sawsal on the state of the arts in Sudan"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

Interview by Ashraf Abdel Aziz<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

In an episode of Sudan Files<\/a>, Radio Dabanga delves into the depths of Sudanese suffering with a creative artist who sees peace as prayer and theatre as a mirror reflecting the flaws of reality. We host playwright Sayed Sawsal to explore the features of the current artistic movement, decipher the dramatic shock created by the artist \u201cTrous,\u201d and envision the future of \u201cThe Dust of Betrayal\u201d in a time of war. The dialogue transcends the text to touch the very heart of the issue, exploring the longing for home, the bitterness of exile, and the philosophy of returning to one\u2019s primal nature.<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Some believe that the artists\u2019 movement to stop the war came too late, but you maintain that peace is an absolute value that transcends time. Do you see your current appeals not merely as a reaction, but as a regional and global need coinciding with the first signs of genuine peace that are beginning to approach us?<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

We wear clothes to protect ourselves from the cold, but murderers steal childhood in the finest clothes.<\/strong>
The war is trying to assassinate me, and I am still \u201cfluttering\u201d with longing and weeping for my homeland.<\/strong>
The crisis of the creative artist lies in the media institutions\u2019 \u201cseizure\u201d of his voice… and Radio Dabanga was our outlet.<\/strong>
If Hasaka had been in Al-Surayba, he wouldn\u2019t have remained dead in his room for four days.<\/strong><\/p><\/blockquote><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

I don\u2019t want to defend the artists, but for example, if the band \u201cAqad al-Jalad\u201d has been singing since the early 1980s: (The people in my country sow love, their words are gentle, their colors are melodies, and when they meet, they speak of peace), and if the radio has been playing since the 1960s: (My soul, peace be upon you, and always greet me with a smile), then peace for us is an enduring value, present from sunrise to sunset, when we need peace even more than in the morning, because at that time all the senses are suspended with the onset of darkness, and darkness needs peace. We are now going through an age of darkness, and it is best for us to plead for peace. Artists were not late in responding; they are at the mercy of the media. If the media is silenced, the artist\u2019s voice is silenced; if it is given free rein and democratic expression, the artist\u2019s voice is amplified. In recent times, one doesn\u2019t need to delve too deeply to see that media institutions in Sudan do not provide creative individuals with opportunities to showcase their work. Were it not for radio stations like Dabanga, we would have no outlet.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The incident of artist Mohamed Trous removing his clothes on stage sparked widespread controversy, but you see it as a normal act under these \u201cdark circumstances.\u201d From a philosophical perspective, how do you connect the \u201cplacenta of birth\u201d to Trous\u2019s action?<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Trous wanted to send a message as a world-renowned theatrical artist, and his act of removing his clothes in these dark circumstances is quite normal because humankind always forgets that when we emerged from our mother\u2019s womb, we were clothed in nothing but this \u201cplacenta,\u201d and that we will return to God Almighty naked, clothed only in our good deeds. What we wear now is merely out of fear of the cold. We have become \u201cnaked,\u201d for you may find someone wearing the finest clothes yet devoid of morals and virtue, capable of murdering an infant. We are in dire need of reconciling with ourselves and finding inner peace. I don\u2019t know the details of the situation or the extent of the provocation that drove the artist Tros to this point, but he comes from the Netherlands and is imbued with dramatic ideas acquired through study and experience. While it\u2019s natural to dress ourselves in the best clothes (whether those of virtue or morality), it\u2019s also natural to be naked. This nakedness should be expressed in \u201cconfessions,\u201d where anyone who has committed a folly against another should come forward and apologize to individuals, groups, or the nation.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The war hasn\u2019t succeeded in silencing Sawsal; he continues to \u201cflicker\u201d and resist through new projects. Tell us about the \u201cDust of Treachery\u201d project?<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

The war is trying to assassinate the Sawsal you see before you, but he still \u201cflickers,\u201d whether through longing, lamenting the homeland, or mourning the loss of friends. We have new projects with some young people (Haitham Amin and Haitham Wahdan), including a new project called \u201cDust of Treachery.\u201d It explores the possibility of condemning a corrupt minister in a drama, and whether we can condemn our president if he commits a crime against the people. Is it possible to correct a judge or a policeman? Our problem in all previous eras has been our inability to criticize and hold officials accountable.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Elegy for \u201cHasaka\u201d… The Pain of Death in the Silence of Exile?<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

I mourn my friend Muhammad Mahmoud (Hasaka), who passed away in his room and was not discovered until four days later. If Hasaka had been in Sudan, in Al-Surayba or anywhere else, his neighbour would have missed him and known what had happened. And I composed verses in his elegy:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The past autumn has perished, O lady, your son Malik, and the dove cooing in its branch has sung.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

What has befallen you, O radiant one, your appearance has changed, and your condition has altered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And tonight, the gentle one is missing his companion, gently and harshly. The noble one, O lady, his condition is pitiful.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

O beautiful one, mother of a large belly, sometimes you gather us together, sometimes you flow.<\/p>\n