When I told a friend about the play I saw this week, she responded, “Isn’t that a little too on the nose?” A one-woman show in Bushwick about identity? But can a solo performance ever be subtle? Layla Khoshnoudi’s I’m Not Even Half, directed by Machel Ross, defied my expectations.
The theater was crowded with other young people dressed just like us. As we waited, blue light illuminated the set. I could only see the silhouettes of the furniture on the stage.
Khoshnoudi’s play follows S, a young woman living in Brooklyn, consumed by the uprisings in Iran during 2022. When crossing the street while looking at footage from the uprisings on Instagram, she is hit by a car. The play starts with her addressing the audience, illuminated by a spotlight. There is a light musical hum as she talks about her story of “fate” and “faith,” often mixing up words. She seems quite confused. On her shirt is a graphic of Empress reversed. My friend told me this card means one needs to embrace their feminine qualities and focus more on the emotional and spiritual aspects of life.
What stood out to me from the start was the lighting, handled by Emmie Finckel. The reds imitated the ambulance, and the blue gave us pause. Second to that was the sound design: the pinging of received texts or the sirens arriving at the scene created a world that expanded beyond the stage, especially as Khoshnoudi went from her own scenes to addressing the audience in a somber way.
Khoshnoudi’s performance as S, as well as the other various characters in her life like Harry, Julianne, and a Norm MacDonald look-alike EMT, was stellar. She gave unique life to each as she flipped between them. Although she stood alone on the stage, it felt as if it was full of people, each dealing with their own struggles.
The play itself, penned by Khoshnoudi, was a way for her to explore conflicting ideas, whether about a one-sided relationship, her interactions with others, or feelings about the violence surrounding the uprisings in Iran. The protests started in 2022 because of the death of Mahsa Amini, who died while in police custody after being arrested for allegedly violating laws that mandated wearing the hijab. The protesters’ initial goals were to end the mandatory hijab, but eventually moved to ending the regime as a whole. Today, Iranian women are still legally required to wear a hijab, though the enforcement is a lot more relaxed.
Sitting in the audience, I felt as if I was there too. Whether this was with Julianne having to hide a horrible experience to protect her friend, or S’s mom trying to care for her daughter, or the women in Iran on both sides of the uprising, the play expands beyond Khoshnoudi’s struggle with her own faith and into the struggle of womanhood as a whole.
I also felt myself represented. Specifically in the way that Khoshnoudi portrayed the different emotions she felt. For example, when reacting to Julianne confiding in her, S feels betrayed by both Harry and Julianne, and by extension of that, betrayed by herself. Khoshnoudi takes up the stage, shocked by her own feelings. During that scene, I began to cry. It was a reaction I had to the people in my life so many times. Seeing it play out on the stage was cathartic. Khoshnoudi’s performance was characterized by her own vulnerability.
It’s not just a one-woman show, but a show about women. In our atomized times, when more and more people consume content on our phones and art feels more distant than ever, Layla Khoshnoudi’s I’m Not Even Half is a beautiful reminder of the power of art.
I’m Not Even Half runs until October 31st at the Bushwick Starr (419 Eldert St.). Get tickets here.
Ella Lado is a writer from Michigan, who now lives in Bushwick.
Photos by Maria Baranova, courtesy of Bushwick Starr.
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