Jake Mace
Myths have power as a guiding force for the direction of our lives, but also hold the key to unlocking truth and resonance in the face of unspeakable adversity. A Grain of Sand follows Renad, an 11-year old Gazan girl displaced following the war and brutal occupation in 2024. In pursuit of a mythical phoenix that her grandmother always told her would lead to safety, alongside a desperate search for her missing family members.
Writer-Director Elias Matar alongside Performer & Co-Deviser Sarah Agha dutifully weave verbatim quotes and poetry written by Gazan children into the fictionalised narrative, that sees Renad attempt to unpack the power of storytelling against the backdrop of drones flashing in the sky, and bombs being dropped within metres. The result is a spellbinding effort that manages to recognise and explore the humanity of those who continue to suffer the incomparable horrors witnessed in the genocide, and still place them within a digestible, evocative narrative.
It’s hard not to feel greatly affected as the dual narrative of despair in the present and hope of a better future intertwine into a searing experience of the now, in which Renad sees storytelling both as an escape and a raison d’être. For someone who sees atrocities, wounds, death, and displacement as a part of her new day-to-day being, Renad is a character who carries with her the burden of hope planted by her optimistic family members. When there is no escape, there is escape in the imagination. When there is escape in the imagination, we are all of a sudden grounded again in the visceral realities inflicted on the Palestinian people.
There are moments when the duality of it all consumes the piece – leading to a dizzying feeling. No doubt this is a part of the intended effect, but it does feel there are moments in which the segue between fiction and verbatim retelling could be afforded a little more attention and narrative pucker. In the throes of such an expansive journey, the flickering between theatrical languages sometimes ending up juddering rather than cementing the concepts being discussed.
Agha’s commanding solo performance as Renad, and filling in for the figures that surround her, is a triumph. As we see Renad whir from recognisable scenes that have left an imprint on the Western conscious, namely the attacks on the Al-Shifa hospital and the mass migration of refugees south to the Rafah border, there is a distinctly symbolic interweaving of elements of Palestinian folklore that feels vivid, well-realised, and progresses the narrative toward what feels like its inevitable devastating end.
Yet there is no end in sight, as Agha reminds us in the piece’s closing moments, and as Renad asks us to do through understanding her dreams to tell the stories of the Palestinian people. As we move into a moment of pertinent remembrance, questions of solidarity and what might lie hereafter for the Gazan people are inescapably potent and prescient.
A transfixing and engaging world of design envelopes Agha’s performance, with a large bank of sand centre-stage, and arresting video projections from designer Dan Light, fuelled in their spirit by an engrossing soundscape from composer Nick Powell. Conceptually, A Grain of Sand soars in delivery from its production design through to elevating the voices of Gazan children who so desperately need to be heard in a 24/7 news environment that sifts over the human realities of conflict, violence and oppression.
As delicate as it is forceful and emotive, the potency of A Grain of Sand will likely ring with you for a considerable time after. Stories are not just things to cling to, even if they first seem so, they are calls to action, calls to remember, and calls most importantly to listen.
Recommended Drink: Pair this with a tea complimented by a warm dose of sumac.
You can catch A Grain of Sand at the Traverse Theatre, Edinburgh until Thursday 12th March from 7:30pm (60mins). Tickets are available through the Venue’s Online Box Office.
Tomek
