Waleed Marzouk investigates a cheering initiative In downtown's famously artistic thoroughfare, Emadeddin Street, independent theatre producer and director Ahmed El- Attar presides over his latest enterprise as a cultural operator, Studio Emadeddin Foundation. Surrounded by his assistants, the echo of thespians delivering impassioned lines, a security camera screen eerily monitoring and exposing the inner goings-on of the place's vestibules, and more than a few vigilant mosquitoes dying to make the scene, it is business as usual as El-Attar strives to make the excursions of his peers run a little more smoothly and efficiently. Studio Emadeddin Foundation, the first workspace in the region devoted to providing independent theatre and dance troupes with rehearsal and training space, had its "soft" opening on 1 February; already it is a booming centre for the city's more adventurous performing arts. The impetus for the project was ignited almost four years ago. As their productions came of age, the ten main independent theatre troupes now working in Cairo (often dubbed, with plenty of tongue in cheek, "the ten heaven- promised troupes", these include Khaled El-Sawy's The Movement, Mohamed Abul-Seoud's Shrapnel and Alienation, and El-Attar's own The Temple) were facing issues of legality and formal representation. Proposing a huge space, a centre for rehearsal, performance, and legal legitimacy, they had asked the Dutch Embassy to fund it. But over ambition in terms of the concept and, more pertinently, the budget, as well as internal strife over who should chair and manage the project, eventually resulted in collapse. But what was disheartening to many turned out to be El- Attar's cue to press on. And recognising that "one can't eat the whole cake in one bite", he decided on a piecemeal approach to addressing the troupes' issues, focussing, initially, on "the first ring in the chain" -- a rehearsal space. Necessity being the mother of invention, and given his experience as a director whose plays have been successfully produced locally and abroad, El-Attar knew firsthand the importance of having a workspace at your disposal free of the pressure of performance, a place for trial and error. When the Dutch contributed to the production of his plays, they would furnish him with the necessary funds for equipment and salaries, but he would still be forced to rehearse in his own home until they moved into a theatre: "When you work in a theatre, [given production constrictions of time and money], whatever you work on, you're stuck with that." He had therefore carried with him an ever-present desire for the "freedom to give up on a direction you've been moving in for [say] a couple of weeks". A year after the proposal of the heaven-promised, El-Attar approached not only the Dutch but the Swedish International Development Agency (SIDA) and the Ford Foundation with a new proposal for a workspace, at least 250 square metres with three to four rooms, that would serve this singular purpose. It took the Dutch two years to jump on board (in December of 2003), agreeing to finance the renovation of the space and furnish it with all the necessary equipment. No doubt encouraged by the momentum thus attained, SIDA agreed to pay for the space's rent in April 2004. And not to be outdone, the Ford Foundation contributed a one-year renewable contract covering salaries and miscellaneous expenses. At last... Once well-deserved celebrations waned, the daunting task of finding a space loomed large. It did not take long for Emadeddin Street, home to the Naguib El-Rehani Theatre and the breeding ground for the flourishing theatre renaissance of the 1930s and 1940s, to beckon. What El-Attar and his team found was significantly more than they had hoped for, a third storey apartment of downtown legend. The only problem was that it had not seen so much as a touch-up since it was built in the 1890s, and, to boot, had been abandoned for the past 20 years. This was the only note of near-terminal despondency El-Attar's team faced in their crusade to get this project off the ground. They waded through a knee-deep layer of dust, and asked the rats permission to excavate. The never-ending nightmare of renovation, with its whirlwind of electric-wiring, plumbing, and painting, was further hindered by indolent opinionated workers whose comments -- "of course the shutters aren't askew, you're just looking at them wrong way" -- almost drove El-Attar to shooting them, or else himself. The black cloud passed in three months. The work complete, the newly refurbished, 430 square metre Studio now welcomes its patrons with a lobby done in patchy banana yellow that features a seating area, and for those waiting for their rooms, three net- enabled PCs -- as El-Attar had previously envisioned, this is now also a hotbed of social and cultural networking. Alongside the office, there are four rehearsal rooms. Rooms One and Two, 40 and 60 square metres respectively, separated by a sliding door, wrap their patrons in dark brown walls, wood flooring (the only century-old survivor of the renovation), and thick black sound- absorbent curtains, which cover the mirrors as well (a clever touch that accommodates vain dancers and self-conscious actors alike). Room Two also doubles as a 20-seater "work-in-progress" performance space, complete with operating board and light grid, for troupes to present a snippet of one of their in-the-works productions to a small audience, namely funding agents. Visiting artists will find shelter in one of two residence rooms, besides, whose shared bathroom and kitchenette put most local three-star hotels to shame. Strictly egalitarian, the studio is available to anyone as long as they pay the LE25 per year membership. This fee grants admittance to the rehearsal rooms, at a rate of LE5 per hour, with free access to a TV, CD-tape deck, and DVD player. Theoretically, one could rent a room to watch a movie or take a nap, but, happily, patrons have sought to maximise rather than waste the space's potential for artistic purposes. Since the studio also needs to generate some profit to help cover its running costs and prove its viability as an independent entity, private agreements may be made with private companies at higher rates, but this has not detracted from the project's primary agenda, to service local independent theatre and dance troupes. Since the opening, in fact, El-Attar's hunch has been confirmed -- he has been "amazed by the influx of troupes dying for a space". Currently, all time slots between 4pm-10pm, are booked at least two weeks in advance -- on the strength of word of mouth. El-Attar has yet to publicise the studio in any mainstream media. Yet at this rate, the official opening, to take place in the next few months, may prove to be entirely redundant. The thriving studio already has witnesses to attest to its success. Abeer Ali, who heads the theatre and storytelling troupe Al-Mesaharati, testifies that "there's no noise or racket whatever -- it's organised". Used to rehearsing in public parks and thus contending with bad weather and nosy crowds, Abeer now has a "means for steady and constant training" available to her, "so the troupe doesn't rust or deteriorate". At the helm of the folkloric dance company, Layaly Al-Sharq, Osama Imam has been bringing his posse to the studio regularly and confirms the "relaxed, productive and punctual working atmosphere". He would not hesitate to pay LE20-30 per hour for the same privilege. As someone who collaborates frequently with foreign troupes, he is pleased that there is finally a presentable space in which to host them. "The place has a touch of class" he says. "I hope they maintain those standards." The studio's weightier accomplishment, however, relates more directly to the reason for its genesis. Mohamed Abdel- Khaliq, director of the newfound Independent Troupes' Training and Studies Centre, who has long struggled to promote and legitimise independent theatre, also points to the studio making a difference: "50 per cent of the problem was the lack of rehearsal space, and 50 per cent of the problem was lack of performance space. Now we've solved 50 per cent of the problem." Abdel-Khaliq was keen on bringing up El-Attar's magnanimous choice to devote 50 per cent of the studio's rehearsal time to the ten heaven-promised troupes, until the studio's board of directors reconvenes in October and votes on whether to maintain this policy. It seems that, belligerent mosquitoes aside, hardly anyone has anything even remotely critical to say about the studio. If there is any room for improvement, understandably, no one is pointing it out. In a performing arts scene that often starves to the point of withering away, artists and producers cling possessively to a good, and pragmatically useful, thing. But there is always at least one faultfinder in every household; when asked about shortcomings, Shaimaa El- Sayed, one of Imam's dancers, was quick to blurt out, "There's no Coca-Cola." And it is true: the beverages on offer are indeed limited to tea, coffee and water; but is this such a bad thing? Positive feedback comprises more than perfunctory compliments. Though as yet in its early stages, the studio is adamant about functioning as a selfless service provider for the city's born-again performing arts scene. This is illustrated by the database El-Attar is starting on the studio's web site. All members will soon have their CVs posted on the database in Arabic and English, with the web site functioning as a "gateway, or central access point" for local and foreign arts institutions, be they theatres, schools, or arts centres. Care is taken not to promote one troupe over another; and it is this neutrality that informs the studio's guiding philosophy. Nivine El-Ebiari, the studio's workshop coordinator and programme manager, what is more, is out to execute a two-year programme of guided and informative interaction among the troupes. Wisely, she has broken down her programme into three stages. A series of talks will run until the new fiscal year commences in October, from which point on, two- to three-day seminars will be devised: "These seminars will serve as an opportunity to orient the speakers and participants about the subjects at hand, enabling us to assess specific criteria to start one- to two-week workshops." Subjects will range from "building an audience" and fundraising, to dramaturgy and play-analysis. Nivine plans on consulting with local experts, as well as others from abroad -- with the object of gathering "two to three angels" on any given subject. In the upcoming workshop on make-up, for example, artists working in world cinema will be intermingled with those working in local weddings, so they can feed off of each other. Also in the works is the studio's support centre, to be helmed by Kristina Nelson, who used to run the Ford Foundation's culture and arts programme. Based on an idea by El-Attar -- and in response to the abundance of amateur troupes based in Cairo and Alexandria (80 plus, with lots of energy and enthusiasm to spare but of mostly poor artistic standard), five young, up-and- coming troupes will be given a grant to do their work over the course of two years. In a work dynamic akin to that of a graduation project being overseen by a committee at an arts institution, with constant dialogue at every stage, an intensive programme will work towards enabling these young troupes to emerge with a high degree of self-sufficiency. "They'll be privy to each others' work as it develops, to engender a sense of community among them," Nelson explains, with nuts-and-bolts mentorship provided to help them "become fund-raising literate and proficient at self representation, rather than catering to donor- driven agendas". Excited by the project, Nelson feels it is "important and worthwhile", and looks forward to all the accompanying field trips and fiery-but-constructive antics bound to come out of pooling together talent from contrasting backgrounds. Based on the terms set down in his initial proposal, El-Attar will hold this office for three years before passing the job onto his successor, Nivine, who is also already training her replacement. The built-in rotation clause "will prevent cultural operators from exploiting the space for their own ends", El-Attar explains, "and it will help people get trained, and it will keep it fresh". Thus, the studio may take on an entirely different character in as little as five years' time. For now, however, if you are looking to rehearse it seems to be the place to go -- unless you want a Coca-Cola. Studio Emadeddin Foundation 18 Emadeddin Street, 3rd floor, Downtown. Tel: 5763875. Opening Hours: 10am-10pm (-12am summertime)
