Meet Yussef El Guindi


Born in Egypt, raised in London and now based in Seattle, Yussef El Guindi’s work frequently examines the collision of ethnicities, cultures and politics that face Middle Eastern and Muslim Americans. His most recent productions: Hotter Than Egypt at Marin Theatre Company, ACT in Seattle, and at the Denver Center for the Performing Arts, and People of the Book, staged at ACT, and at Urban Stages (NYC). Bloomsbury/ Methuen Drama has published The Selected Works of Yussef El Guindi; and Broadway Play Publishing Inc. and Dramatists Play Service have published a number of his other plays. He is the recipient of several honors, including the Laurents/Hatcher Foundation Citation of Excellence Award, the Steinberg/ATCA New Play Award, Colorado’s Henry Award, American Blues Theater’s Blue Ink Playwriting Award, Seattle’s The Stranger’s Genius Award, L.A. Weekly’s Excellence in Playwriting Award, Seattle’s Gregory Award and the Middle East America Distinguished Playwright Award. In 2023, he was selected by the Royal Society of Literature as an International Writer.

Interview with the Playwright

CATF:  The first line in your play, “Refugee Rhapsody” is, “Do you believe in love?” Do YOU believe in love? 

YEG:  The older I get I keep questioning love. What is it? What is it that binds people together and why are people together? What is the dynamic that draws people in, that keeps them going, that makes them want to stay in spite of various issues that arise?  It’s more of an issue now than it used to be way back when I was much more prone to be infatuated and enchanted by the experience of love and just the newness of everything. Now that old age has kind of swept in, I’m looking at it more objectively and am less enthralled.

Sakinah, a character in your play says, “Beauty may be superficial, but maybe it’s also given to the people who can do the most good.” Is that true?

Sakinah, in this moment, is so enthralled with the character of Emily that she’s contemplating ideas that she wouldn’t normally consider. She casts a jaundiced eye on a lot of things, so Emily is new for her. She has to stand back from her worldviews and wonder if something really is given to people so they can do the most good in the world.

You have said, “Domestic drama is political drama.”  What do you mean by this?

In my family growing up, politics infringed on our domesticity. It was the reason we immigrated. My father’s companies were going to be nationalized by the government; in fact, I think he was going to be arrested. The change in policy and politics directly impacted our family and changed our course. A lot of people around the world have to pay attention to the politics that frame their lives because it can intersect suddenly and destructively. I think if everything’s going well in a functioning democracy, it’s a privilege not to pay attention to politics. There’s no such thing as a perfect democracy but if it’s being held together by duct tape – it’s sort of working – you don’t have to pay attention. A lot of people are paying attention now.

How do you define the American Dream?

Some people use the word, “opportunity” which is a truism or cliché. Opportunities are becoming less and less as this tech economy becomes a little harsher. Opportunities actually seem to be contracting because the manufacturing landscape has changed. The American Dream once was opportunity, plus the ability to reinvent yourself and start again. That has changed.

Do beautiful people rule the world and are they meant to?

A recent sociology survey determined that people’s names determine how well they will do in life, like the name Matthew or Matt. A lot of successful people have certain names and those names and the economic class you were born into tends to define “beautiful.”

About the efficacy of placing art in homeless shelters, your character Emily says, “I don’t imagine for a moment it’s going to change their lives. But if just for a second it makes them think of something else. If it turns their attention to something beautiful…then these pieces acquire even more purpose in my eyes.”

I don’t imagine hanging works of art are going to make life better for somebody desperate for shelter and food, whose mind is preoccupied with the necessities and essentials of life. It may however, make a difference in spaces that feel harsh and very institutional. We know colors affect moods – they can either be welcoming or daunting. Why not have something even unconsciously in the background that slightly changes the mood of these spaces?

A work of art becomes a character in this play and addresses other characters. Why did you choose a work of art and not, for example, a ghost?

It all has to do with how society frames you. The painting is of a shipwrecked African slave on a raft that comes to life wanting not to be depicted in this way. He’s fighting against this narrative and by the end of the play he gets out of that frame. All of us are surrounded by narratives that inform our opinions and how we see people. The poor refugee who had to fight to get here and managed to make a life for himself and his family fits into a narrative that Emily sees and sympathizes with.

The notion of the painting coming to life came very early in the play and I knew I was writing towards it.

What do you think of this quote from Ai Weiwei: “Art is dangerous . . . Artists are the ones who speak the truth.”

It depends on where art is being created. In places like China and Egypt, art is dangerous and artists can get arrested. Until recently in the United States, nobody cared that much about art. Do you want to create art in a place where you have the freedom to do it but where nobody really cares one way or another? Or do you want to be in a place where your art matters enough that you might be arrested? Where people will pay attention?

In our current political climate with the uptick in authoritarianism, art has a slight spotlight. We are paying more attention to where it is going to be displayed or staged, going all the way from stand-up comics to theaters and museums. We don’t want to draw the ire of the current administration.

It has been said that art is a form of resistance.

I agree. I have art all over the place, some of which I’ve painted. As the crassness and vulgarity became more elevated in the current climate, I coped by going to the Seattle Museum of Art when I was in Seattle. When I was in Chicago, I went to the Art Institute. I needed to be surrounded by something aspirational and beautiful that spoke to our better natures.

Why did you once say, “Allow yourself to be bad. Allow yourself to make mistakes.”

I went to Carnegie Mellon to learn a craft and my head was filled with the voices of my teachers critiquing my work. I’m so glad I did because I wanted their feedback, but I got to a point where I couldn’t write anything because I was criticizing and dismissing what I had written before I’d even finished it. It got to a point where it didn’t matter if it was good or bad. I just had to finish it and go back and work on it later. I had to give myself permission not to be perfect, you know, like Venus emerging in the Botticelli painting. I tell young writers not to think that they’re writing a play – don’t look up and see this big mountain that you must surmount. Just take the next step.

Comedy shows up in your plays, you have said, “because something is usually terribly wrong. It shows up precisely because the situation may not be a laughing matter at all.”

Laughter and comedy are ways to cope. Egyptians have a sense of humor because life is just too much and humor becomes a way to dissolve the obstacles a little bit or to alleviate the stress and pressure of facing insurmountable problems. Humor is the water that allows you to move around immovable objects or situations. Laughter physically releases endorphins – the natural “feel-good” chemicals produced by the brain and body to reduce stress. It can be something that cuts you like a sword or something that embraces you. Given my dark subject matter, comedy in my plays creates breathing spaces. It can help you exhale and inhale.

How do you balance following established theatrical practices with pushing and/or breaking theatrical boundaries?

The question of form and aesthetics are never at the foreground when I’m working on a play. To me, the story will determine the form and aesthetics. I’m so invested in the characters and their journeys that I’m going to allow them to dictate.

Refugee Rhapsody is slightly nonlinear. We switch times and spaces because that’s the way the story unfolded. A great number of my plays are very linear – some are even lights up, lights down with no scene breaks. But the characters, the action, the conflict are the dictates.

Some Greek plays can seem modern like The Trojan Women which stylistically, feels very contemporary because the characters directly address the audience. New ways that we all think are new aren’t always new. Six Characters in Search of an Author by Luigi Pirandello was radical in its time. Characters in Peter Handke’s play, Offending the Audience, literally come out and berate the audience. I’m not trying to reinvent the wheel. I’m just trying to explore our condition, our humanity.

This interview has been edited for brevity and clarity.