My Name Is Rachel Corrie is a self-penned emotional roller-coaster documenting the life and death of a young American woman whose first-person observations from solidarity work in Gaza during the second intifada seem acutely prescient in the light of current events. Corrie was killed in Rafah on March 16th 2003 by an IDF bulldozer as she tried to protect the house of local pharmacist, Samir Nasrallah and his family, from demolition. She was 23 and had been in Gaza for less than three months. Her diary entries from that period along with emails to her family speak volumes about the inhumane treatment of ordinary Palestinians, her testimony bringing to mind more recent words uttered by the UN Secretary General, António Guterres, in a speech made to the UN Security Council on 24 October last year,
“…the attacks by Hamas did not happen in a vacuum. The Palestinian people have been subjected to 56 years of suffocating occupation. They have seen their land steadily devoured by settlements and plagued by violence; their economy stifled; their people displaced and their homes demolished. Their hopes for a political solution to their plight have been vanishing.”
Guterres, like many of us, had unequivocally condemned the Hamas attacks on 7 October but also, like many of us, he is under attack for daring to speak the truth about the Israeli state’s treatment of the Palestinian people. The conflation of legitimate criticism of illegal and inhumane government policies with perceived anti-semitism is sadly having a chilling effect on free speech, with numerous events and speakers quite literally being cancelled across the globe along with widespread self-censorship. In this time of acute sensitivities and increasing polarisation it is even more important for the artistic community to take a stand and create the space for honest dialogue. I was therefore pleased to see that a new version of the play is being showcased in Newcastle/
Rachel’s voice
In this co-production by Wet Arts and Alphabetti Theatre Rachel is played by the extraordinary Rebecca Glendenning-Laycock, ably directed by Ryan Hay who also designed the set which comprises a white and black painted brick wall, a line of red sand and assorted microphones on stands fixed at various levels. Initially I was not sure about the latter in such a small intimate space, but their use is more symbolic than technical, signifying Rachel at different stages in her short life in different locations drawn from childhood memories, teenage angst, romantic encounters, classroom discussions, work environments and, of course, her activism. At times the microphones also stand for parental voices and geeky boyfriends. But the voice that comes through clear and strong, beguiling us with humour and humanity, is Rachel’s voice, a voice that continues to speak to us urgently from beyond the grave about terrible injustice and unconscionable suffering.
We are lucky that she wrote copious notes, made endless lists and kept a diary of her time in Gaza. Together with emails sent to her parents, this rich store of words forms the fabric of the play-text, jointly edited by the activist-journalist Katharine Viner (Chief Editor of The Guardian since 2015) and the late actor Alan Rickman who also directed an earlier version of the play. We are invited to enter into Rachel’s world, to get to know her dreams and ambitions, her obsessions, her crushes and the things that kept her awake at night, her quirks and faults – the inner life of a teenager no less, growing up in small-town USA but with eyes wide open to the world.
The play lasts for 80 minutes with no interval and yet the actor completely holds our attention throughout in a tour de force performance, moving from microphone to microphone, conjuring multiple worlds. This is theatre at its best, an empty space, a well-drawn character, a human story, a dilemma, something we can connect with, something vital that touches us deeply. We know the end before we take our seats, but it still comes as a shock to hear the factual details of Rachel’s death as we look at the pile of red sand on stage, pushed into a mound as if by a Caterpillar D9 bulldozer. And then we see Rachel again, not the actor, but the 12 year old girl, on archive film, reading a sweet heartfelt poem at a school event.
She could be any one of us who feels the pain and suffering of others so acutely that we cannot be silent. For sure, we must all do more to speak out against injustice. It is what Rachel would want us to do. It is what her family are doing, catapulted forever out of their comfortable white American way of life into the world of international solidarity. The Rachel Corrie Foundation in memory of their daughter continues to undertake a range of work promoting peace and justice.
Meanwhile, My Name Is Rachel Corrie continues at Alphabetti Theatre until 26 October. For information and to book tickets visit the website
Post-script: In line with their excellent policy of encouraging creative responses to their programme, Alphabetti will be showcasing Teesside writer, Maryam Ali, on Friday and Saturday 18 and 19 October immediately after the main show. Maryam is a mixed heritage actor and new writer based in Teesside. She recently returned to the arts after a career break as an SEN teacher and has begun to find the power in her own voice through writing for theatre. She is particularly drawn to stories that highlight personal lived experiences within wider social and political issues.
For information about the demolition of Palestinian homes by Israel authorities check out this fact-sheet.
To learn about the joint work of Jewish and Arab Israeli’s in Standing Together and the UK Friends network, read this article also by Julie Ward.
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