By: Gili Hoxhaj
The noise of the kettle, accompanied by some biting words, is the first sound that fills the air. It sends a clear message: things are far from well. The actress on stage plays with her hands, showing that they are the center of the body. With the same message, a mother’s voice also speaks, explaining how the hands are connected to the heart. As the music fades slowly, the men take over the stage, and she becomes a peripheral figure, entering briefly only to serve tea. The men, dressed in traditional Albanian hats and pants, reflect on the past and the present, recalling their youth as the sound of spoons clinks in their glasses. The music, along with the sound of the Albanian language, adds depth to the scene. “O Lord, O Lord, O Lady of the House!” with choreography by Robert Nuha and a script by Zana Hoxha, premiered on the second day of the “FemArt” festival in Pristina. Throughout the second day, the festival expanded across the city with workshops and performances at “Dodona”, a performance at the “Heroinat” memorial, “NewBorn”, and a discussion at the French Institute on “Femicide – How Do We Fight It?”. However, the closing performance at the “Oda” Theatre was one that pulled the audience away from all the previous dynamic events. In this dance-theatre piece, it feels as though all Albanian folklore has been explored and the actors have lived it. The language, the jokes, the exclamations, the booming voices, and even the breathing are all so natural. The movements, with professional choreography, add an extra dynamic to the performance. The laughter from the audience becomes an ongoing dialogue with the actors, all happening so naturally.
Many other themes emerge – some very familiar in a setting where men sit cross-legged – and even beyond that. The issue of inheritance becomes a “bone of contention” amid the conversations, and the advancement of women is still largely unacceptable.
“The end of the world has come. Women think they are men now,” says Ahmeti to Bedriu, and here the audience gets to the core of the message of the play. It turns out that it has become a problem that women are now starting to think about inheritance and develop their lives beyond the home. The mention of the Albanian “Kanun” (traditional law) is inevitable. The play is rooted in oppressive rules but evolves far beyond them. Besa, played by Altina Binaku, represents the sister who inherits the family ring. But her brothers, Shpendi and Arbeni, don’t see it as fair. In fact, Shpendi is convinced that he is entitled to the land, the house, and the ring. Besa holds onto it, but even when she claims it, her brothers are not convinced. Sometimes, they dismiss her until she plays with the power of the ring, a power that will ultimately transform them all. They will be forced to laugh at each other and themselves when they face the truth. The shadows represent their conscience beyond themselves. This entire dynamic, both on stage and dramaturgically, posed challenges for choreographer Robert Nuha.
“It was a very demanding and exhausting process – while we tried to express serious themes for our society in a comedic form, it was quite challenging, but it also gave us moments of joy. We had to find the right balance between movement and words, to convey the right message and maintain interpretative quality,” he said. Besa, to stay on her path, is sometimes indifferent. A huge fan of rap music, she finds her rebellion in it, which she expresses on stage. The elders appear in the scenes, reminding of the troubles the ring has caused, creating more division than unity between the brothers and the sister. The struggle becomes intense even between the brothers. They often find themselves in situations that strip them of their masculinity. “The land is for men, tea is for women,” is another line used to mock women. Through a rich visual blend where the scenes change seamlessly, Noa Dance Theatre Co. and Artpolis united forces for a bold and humorous interpretation of masculinity and patriarchy. By combining contemporary dance, body language, and video projections, this performance reimagines traditional Albanian practices in a provocative and entertaining way! The audience laughs at the irony, but they are also aware of the deeper message.
Hysaj: The performance should be showcased in other venues
Fadil Hysaj, the playwright and director, describes the performance as one rich in subtlety, with a careful balance of irony and sarcasm. He emphasizes that the performance should be showcased in other venues as well, as it effectively conveys its message, allowing the audience to deeply engage with it.
“The theme is approached in a dimension that can often feel mystical, with a seamless transition from one level to another, from dreams to reality. The connection between choreography and the situations is crafted with such artistry—it’s a remarkably well-constructed piece. What I appreciated most was the delicate nature of the cause. It’s not aggressive, which makes the performance more communicative and accessible to the audience. It’s important for this show to move through different centers, so it can have a wider impact for the cause from which it emerged,” said Hysaj after the performance. Shpendi, skillfully played by Labinot Raci, the oldest brother in the family, reveals that he bore the weight of staying with their father while his brother and sister had dreams of something more. He talks about the loneliness within the family and how he was taught that masculinity is measured through harsh behavior and tone. This is what their domineering father and submissive mother instilled in them, making anything else unacceptable in society. Arbeni, played by Edlir Gashi, bears another kind of burden—the obligation to leave, as his future is at risk. However, he is more open-minded and, at times, believes the ring should belong to his sister.
Director Zana Hoxha, who also wrote the script and dramaturgy for “O Lord, O Lord, O Lady of the House!” describes the process as the most challenging she has experienced so far. The theme had often come up in discussions, but when it came to the stage, she worked hard to refine the work that choreographer and director Robert Nuha, alongside the actors, had created. The process was highly collaborative, and the challenges were numerous, especially due to the combination of different techniques such as projections, dance, acting, and diverse artistic styles. “As a feminist director, and now as a playwright, my collaboration with Robert and the Artpolis Ensemble has been incredibly valuable. I’ve always focused on approaching the text from a feminist perspective, particularly in addressing traditions, customs, and the fight against patriarchal mindsets. This is what inspires me as a director and playwright—to create a way in which humor first opens the hearts of the audience. But as the play progresses, things become more dramatic, and by the end, the humor disappears, and the emotional depth touches the audience profoundly,” she shared. And indeed, this is what happened. Everyone found parts of themselves in the characters—the brother, the sister, the mother, and the father.
Besa is unaffected by anything. She fights only in direct confrontation. There is no additional dialogue. Toward the end of the play, she becomes consumed by her passions and dreams. She is a character who is disconnected from norms, which often do more harm than good. She shows that sometimes battles can be won simply by disregarding them. Girls like Besa hold power, leaving the fight to others. This is because they believe in their victory and in what belongs to them. This is the lesson “FemArt” imparted on the second night!
