Obaaberima M’CARTHY
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“BRILLIANT”
REVIEWS Toronto Star Fab Magazine Now Magazine BlogTO
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TORONTO STAR
Review by Michael Crabb
(out of 4)
The secularized take on Christ’s dictum, “the truth will set you free,” has become a modern-day psychotherapeutic mantra, and it hovers close to the heart of blossoming actor-playwright Tawiah M’carthy’s one-man-show, Obaaberima, which opened Buddies in Bad Times Theatre’s 34th season on Thursday night. It’s a moving portrait of a man’s journey from childhood to mature adulthood, thwarted by the world’s expectations and their conflict with the dualities of his own complex sexual identity. The play is effectively a confessional, a public declaration of the truth Agyeman, M’carthy’s character, has been hiding for so long. We first encounter Agyeman in a Canadian jail cell on the last night of a three-year sentence for violent assault. The bars of Camellia Koo’s set symbolize the internal prison Agyeman has built for himself. But here he is, his prison orange overalls coquettishly arranged to enhance an effeminate persona, addressing the audience as if they were his cell mates. The tale he tells not only takes us back to Agyeman’s Ghanaian childhood but introduces us to Sibongile, the alternate female persona — and occasional narrator — he adopted as a child with the sympathetic encouragement of Opayin, a local tailor/dress-maker. In the best of circumstances, growing up with an awareness of being different is never easy. Ghana was clearly not the best. Yet, Agyeman is offered opportunities to come to terms with who he is, but is confused enough in himself that he can never do so. Instead, he hides behind a manly mask, denying the feminine aspect of his nature that is bursting to get out. Moving to Canada to please his father by studying to become a lawyer solves nothing. Agyeman is lost in an environment that regards him as exotic without offering any harbour for his own drifting soul. His world crumbles around him and, having hit bottom, he’s forced to confront and accept who is. The tale is conveyed in a seamlessly woven interplay of words, song, gesture and dance. Kobèna Aquaa-Harrison’s live percussion accompaniment, rich with traditional Africa rhythms, supports M’carthy throughout, whether buttressing an emotion or evoking a scene. Although at times heart-achingly sad, M’carthy’s play is leavened with ample doses of humour. M’carthy, who can switch accents like a seasoned impersonator, brings a host of supporting characters — family, friends and lovers — vividly to life, enhanced with evocative physical transformations. Evalyn Parry, who nursed the play from its early stages as dramaturge and now serves as director, keeps the action moving crisply and economically. There’s no fat to cut in this production. As a performance it’s a tour de force and more than earned M’carthy the raucous ovation it received. As a play it’s persuasive and touching. Of M’carthy potential it speaks more than encouragingly.
3
FAB MAGAZINE
Review by Jeremy Willard
After conducting an interview with its creator and sole performer, Tawiah M’carthy, I suspected that the opening night of his play Obaaberima would be brilliant — the actual production exceeded my expectations. Obaaberima is, at its heart, a story about being honest with oneself. A young Ghanaian boy, Agyeman, is taunted for being girlish. A local male artist, Opayin, rescues him and the two form a bond. Opayin helps Agyeman find a way to express his femininity — by dressing as a woman — and this makes it more acceptable for Agyeman to have sex with Opayin. When Agyeman meets a young gay boy who wants Agyeman as a boy, not as a pretend girl, Agyeman is confused. When the situation goes wrong, Agyeman denies himself and heads to Canada for university, to study to become the heterosexual lawyer his parents intended him to be. His problems emigrate with him. That is just the beginning of the plot. While it is a story about honesty — and a kind of coming-of-age / coming-out story — it is told in a complex and not at all clichéd way. Issues of gender and sexual orientation are mixed with complex cultural issues, and these issues are explored in two very different environments: Ghana and then Canada. M’carthy plays all six characters, gliding effectively between the gruff and hunched Opayin to the initially timid and boyish Agyeman to the adorably naive and girlish Phillippa to the painfully Canadian gay boy Elijah, from North Bay. The set and costume are minimal, but M’carthy’s tour-de-force acting, the almost-magical lighting, and the music and sound effects transport the audience to two continents, a jail cell, Opayin’s dress shop, and other vividly evoked locales. Much of this is accomplished through the great rapport between M’carthy and musician Kobena Aquaa-Harrison. Aquaa-Harrison doesn’t just play the music; he sets the scene with an array of unusual instruments, sound effects and interactions between him and M’carthy. When M’carthy plays Phillippa singing in church, Aquaa-Harrison is not only the church music, but also the applause and the “hallelujahs” from the rest of the congregation. Obaaberima is intensely funny, serious and sad — a fitting opening for Buddies’ 2012/13 season.
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NOW MAGAZINE
Review by Jon Kaplan
(out of 5)
Coming out to oneself can be as hard as sharing the truth with others. Revelations of both sorts are ongoing concerns for Agyeman, the central figure in Obaaberima. Tawiah M’carthy’s solo show opens the Buddies season. In his hometown in Ghana, the eight-year-old Agyeman secretly dresses in his mother’s clothes and high heels; at school he’s taunted as “obaaberima” (girl-boy). Later, as a teen and with the help of Opayin, a tailor, he discovers that both Ghanaian legend and the Genesis creation story recognize a person’s masculine and feminine sides. Agyeman explores his feminine aspect – he names her Sibongile – with Opayin, while he’s also drawn to a sophisticated fellow student, Nana Osei, and discovers the pleasures of male-male sex. Devastated when both men withdraw from him, Agyeman moves to Canada to study law; here he finds himself caught emotionally between a born-again Ghanaian woman and a gay Canadian man. His problems are compounded, since he has to deal not only with questions of sexuality and who attracts him but also with a culture that sees him as “the ultimate outsider.” Agyeman can’t move on with his life until he’s honest with himself and others. Taking the audience on Agyeman’s journey, the always-engaging M’carthy skillfully differentiates the play’s characters physically and vocally. Just as importantly, the characters’ emotions always feel true; we know them as much by what they say as what they leave unsaid. Agyeman’s introduction to sex, for instance, is a delicate and almost wordless scene. Agyeman has an innocence and tentativeness for most of the show; the portrayal is in sharp contrast to the self-assured Sibongile’s power in her dual roles as the self-repressed Agyeman’s alter-ego and the tale’s narrator. But watch for the touch of vulnerability M’carthy gives to Sibongile on her final exit; she’s a woman with sides we have yet to see. Song, dance and music enrich the storytelling, with Kobèna Aquaa-Harrison providing live accompaniment on African and Western instruments. The key musical element is a percussive heartbeat that drives the action forward. M’carthy’s script cleverly parallels the emotional triangles in which Agyeman finds himself first in Ghana and later in Canada. But while the first part is solidly in place, the characters we meet in Canada could use further fleshing out. Camellia Koo’s set and costume design and Michelle Ramsay’s lighting give the narrative further nuance. The set’s doorways represent the prison where the play begins and ends, but its entrances also suggest the life alternatives open to Agyeman. It’s exciting to see a young theatre artist like M’carthy own the stage, especially in a resonant script that offers a complex look at human sexuality. As Sibongile says near the end of the show, referring to that intricacy, “there is no name for who I am.”
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Review by Keith Bennie Agyeman, a young man from Ghana, appears before the tall imposing bars of a prison hall. His posture upright, firm yet delicate, and his orange jumpsuit askew—one pant leg pulled up to his thigh, one bare shoulder exposed. The confidence of his stance belies the surrounding setting for he has a story to tell. Tawiah M'carthy's Obaaberima explores the upbringing of a young Ghanaian struggling to find his queer identity, both at home and after his immigration to Canada. M'carthy is captivating on stage, effortlessly transitioning from the various characters in his world. But it's the unique and layered story, about the queer immigrant perspective yes but also which considers the nature of our performative selves, that makes this such a strong solo work. From a young age, Agyeman uncovers his feminine qualities (called Obaa in his mother tongue), which exist in seeming opposition to his masculine side (Oberima). The neighbourhood tailor brings out the latter aspects, while a young classmate Nana Esi loves him for his manly frame. These dalliances end in only more confusion in a country where it's criminal to have same-sex relationships. When Agyeman comes to Canada he faces the questions he hoped would be left at home—first with a woman he intends to wed and then with a man he eventually moves in with. The storyteller is the female side of Agyeman he names Sibongile. She has complete control of the playing space. With a wave of her hand she cues lights and sound, conjuring up the scenes and characters that inhabit the tale. M'carthy creates interesting parallels between Agyeman's sexual awakening during his youth and the relationships be pursues in adulthood. One of the most nuanced themes is a consideration of the role of performance itself in the shaping of identity. As Agyeman explores his two genders, it's inevitably the performative qualities (dress, speech, gesture) that mark the change. Acting straight is also the means by which he's able to mask his sexuality upon arrival to Canada. The theme is taken further when Sibongile acknowledges that the figures in Agyeman's life have become a part of him. It's a clever doubling of the format of the solo show in which the playwright is working. The playwright too is a part of the characters he creates. Director Evalyn Parry draws out these characterizations on an empty set, devoid of any props or set pieces. It allows for M'carthy to showcase a collection of unique characters alongside a dynamic soundscape performed by Kobena Aquaa-Harrison. Like Waawaate Fobister's Agokwe, Buddies once again gives voice to a thrilling storyteller and performer in Tawiah M'carthy.
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The New Buddies Theatre Season Kicks Off with a Misfit by Jeremy Willard
“They’ve been great in giving me room to speak without judgment,” says Ghanaian-Canadian Tawiah M’carthy in reference to the Young Creators Unit (YCU) at Buddies. M’carthy is the creator of, and sole performer in, the play Obaaberima, which kicks off the 2012/13 Buddies season. Obaaberima started as the poem Red High Heels, which he submitted to the YCU in 2008. It grew into a 20-minute play with four characters and debuted at the 2008 Rhubarb Festival. From there it gradually expanded into a longer piece with six characters, and, after another Buddies workshop in 2011, M’carthy was told he would be going to the main stage. A key part of completing the production was the inclusion of Ghanaian-Canadian musician Kobena Aquaa-Harrison in 2011: “It was great to have him there because he understood a lot of the things that I was talking about culturally, and it was great to have him be able to create a sound that supported and moved the play.” In the play, Agyeman, a young Ghanaian, tells his story from a Canadian jail cell, where he has been for three years. It is the eve of his release, and because he has gone through a kind of change in prison he wants to give a testimony for his life. “It’s kind of like a confession; he feels like if he does that, then nothing is hidden, and he can live a whole new life [when he is released].” “His whole life has been based on lies,” M’carthy says. Agyeman grew up in Ghana, where a young man must go through strict developmental phases, culminating in marriage to a woman. Homosexuality does not exist culturally. Agyeman is effeminate and knows he does not want to marry a woman. “He finds himself kind of lost because he does not fit into his society,” M’carthy says. “At a very early age he finds himself torn between two relationships, one that’s very traditionally based— an older gentleman teaches him about the traditions of Ghana and the rites of passage— and another, a young boy who tells him about a whole new world he’s only heard about.” Fleeing from himself, Agyeman travels to North America for school. The issues that he refused to deal with follow him to the West, and the resultant emotional volatility leads to the events that cause his imprisonment. While imprisoned he’s surrounded by other young black men and thinks, “this is the lowest I can get; this is not how I’m supposed to represent young black men in North America.” This leads to great inner change and the eventual desire to tell his story. While M’carthy knows what it’s like to "come out" as a young man from Ghana, this story is not about him. The story is pieced together from things he knows or can extrapolate, and a desire to help people who are just finding themselves: “In telling this story I hope I’m setting an example for younger black queer men, not only in Canada but Ghana. I just hope it could save a lot of heartache.” Many men who have sex with other men have trouble incorporating this into their identity. M’carthy says, “You can be yourself. It doesn’t take anything away from you being a man, it doesn’t take away anything from you being black, it doesn’t take away anything from you being African, and it doesn’t take anything away from you being Ghanaian. If anything it adds to who you are.”
-FAB MAGAZINE 10
Interview with Tawiah M’carthy by Jon Kaplan
Coming out has a multitude of meanings for Ghana-born Tawiah M’carthy, who opens the Buddies season with his solo show Obaaberima. The expression refers to sexual awakening and self-acceptance, notes M’carthy, but also to his coming into his own as a theatre artist. “The idea for the show began as a 12-line poem I wrote in 2008, in which a boy stands in his mother’s high heels and falls in love with how he looks,” he recalls. “I brought the poem to the Buddies Young Creators Unit (YCU) and worked to turn it into a play.” With the help of dramaturge and director Evalyn Parry, M’carthy’s created the story of Agyeman, a youngster whose parents hope he’ll grow up to be either a minister or a lawyer. With the help of the tailor Opayin, he discovers his female side (in Ghanaian, Obaa), whom he names Sibongile; she’s the counterpart to his male aspect (Oberima). The combination of the two aspects provides the play with its title. “The word ‘agyeman’ means leader, and his parents have the hope that he will change his country. But as he grows up, Agyeman shyly discovers he’s not like other boys. He learns more about both sides of himself not just from Opayin, but also from Nana Esi, a sophisticated classmate who’s spent a lot of time abroad.” Sibongile, who becomes the tale’s narrator, is everything Agyeman is not. Female, confident, strong and tough, she says exactly what’s on her mind. But the boy’s discovery of his two sides is literally only half the story. At its midpoint, Agyeman moves to Canada, meets the woman who might become his wife and gets involved with a white man who encourages him to come out to others. “I’m often asked if this is my life story, but it’s not,” says M’carthy. “Some of my own experiences are there, but I’ve blended people I knew back home and here in Canada and added other elements as well.” The production has him playing multiple characters; in that way it’s stylistically parallel to native writer Waawaate Fobister’s hit Agokwe, which also came out of the YCU. “It was hard at first to find the various people,” admits M’carthy, whose previous solo show was The Kente Cloth in 2008. “I had to find their physicalities, their voices, how they sit, speak, touch the ground. Then it was a matter of layering the various physical elements onto the intentions of the characters, mostly what they want but can’t have.” The result is a multidisciplinary production that relies on music, song and dance to tell the tale of a young man’s journey into his outer and inner worlds. “I see it as a continuing theme in my work, that of reintroducing yourself, your true self, to those around you. In Ghana we have the idea of out-dooring, which is the naming ceremony for an infant,” he says. “The process of creating Obaaberima has been a similar rite of passage for me, finding the confidence and showing who I am, both as a man and as an artist.”
-NOW MAGAZINE 11