Update browser for a secure Made experience

It looks like you may be using a web browser version that we don't support. Make sure you're using the most recent version of your browser, or try using of these supported browsers, to get the full Made experience: Chrome, Firefox, Safari, or Edge.

Wish You Were Here

My Own Private Korsi

by Arian Moayed
Essays My Own Private Korsi

This is an essay from Almanac, Playwrights Horizons' literary magazine. In addition to pieces written by staff members, Almanac consists of commissioned responses to our season productions — written by artists, activists, and community members — that offer a form of theatrical criticism grounded in vulnerability, contextualization, and appreciation as an alternative to traditional reviews. Playwrights Horizons believes in the value of a multiplicity of perspectives in the discourse that surrounds theater; through essays, poems, and more, Almanac highlights a wide range, in form and content, of responses to our works.

When I was a little boy living in Tehran, I distinctly remember our korsi – which, in our Iranian household, was a single lightbulb placed underneath a low coffee table covered by a heavy woven blanket. The adults would then place their legs underneath the table to keep their feet warm while playing Iranian versions of Gin Rummy, drinking hot saffron tea with a sugar cube nestled between their teeth. 

Since I was so small and squirmy, I would hide myself inside the korsi in my secret fortress, imagining myself as a general or commander of our household. I would whisper military-style instructions to my sister’s beige panty-hosed toes, sometimes circling the perimeter of the four wooden posts of the coffee table to keep out all potential foot invaders. Often I’d peek through our grandmother's blanket stretching the fabric just enough to make out which visitor had entered our home, marking them as a badjence, a bad guy. After all, I was General Arian protecting my family in my korsi command headquarters! 

The reality is that my younger self was hiding from the never-ending screech of missile attacks that blanketed Tehran during the Iran-Iraq war. My military commands were my childlike contributions to the Iranian war efforts – the warmth of the bulb and my mother’s feet, an escape from a world of chaos and turmoil that my four-year-old self wanted to run from. Most likely, it was all of these feelings combined and more yet to be discovered. 

For whatever reason, I never spoke about my korsi, the war, or immigrating to the United States. Truthfully, I couldn’t imagine that anyone in America would even understand much less care. It was just one of those complex and messy memories we bury. The older we get, these memories become less and less tangible and raise more questions. Did that happen to me? Were those memories real? Did I dream them up?

Sitting at the first preview of Sanaz Toossi’s Wish You Were Here, my clouded memories crystalized back into existence with vivid colors, penetrating sounds, and layered emotions. Watching these glorious actresses portray resilient Iranian women from that same time period made me feel seen

Watching the character of Nazanin hide her deepest fears suddenly brought back memories of my mother crying under our staircase, while my brother fought in the war. Hearing the missiles screech above the play’s Karaj home flooded my brain with my father’s rationalizations that we were going to be okay. Watching two women speaking on the phone from across the globe replayed all of my family’s conversations with our relatives back in Iran, filled with regretful positivity. Watching the bright daylight of Reza Behjat’s lighting design peek through the heavy curtains immediately recalled our korsi, my refuge from fear and pain. 

Sanaz’s play gives me hope that audiences can better understand Iranian people. How resilient we are. How much complexity we have to show. How much we’ve had to sacrifice. How much we want to be heard. How much we want to share. How much love we have to give. How much we want to be seen. 

And, in my case, I hid inside my own private korsi to learn that I want to be seen through theater.


 

 

 

Iranian-born, Award-winning actor Arian Moayed is the co-founder of Waterwell, a civic-minded and socially conscious non-profit art and education company. Arian is the creator of the Emmy-nominated thriller, The Accidental Wolf and the film adaptation of Waterwell’s The Courtroom, premiering at the Tribeca Film Festival in spring 2022. Notable acting credits: Broadway's The Humans (Drama Desk Award), Bengal Tiger at the Baghdad Zoo (Tony nomination), Guards at the Taj (Obie Award), Emmy-winning Succession (HBO), and Shonda Rhimes’ series, Inventing Anna (Netflix).

 

 

More about Wish You Were Here

View All
A Letter to Sanaz Toossi
Essays
Wish You Were Here

A Letter to Sanaz Toossi


by Heidi Schreck

Ghost Ships
Essays
Wish You Were Here

Ghost Ships


by Martyna Majok

My Own Private Korsi
Essays
Wish You Were Here

My Own Private Korsi


by Arian Moayed

Playwright’s Perspective: Sanaz Toossi
Essays
Wish You Were Here

Playwright’s Perspective: Sanaz Toossi


Words to a Feeling
Essays
Wish You Were Here

Words to a Feeling


by Lizzie Stern

A Q&A with Sanaz Toossi
Interviews
Wish You Were Here

A Q&A with Sanaz Toossi


More from Almanac

View All
This Day, Every Day
Essays
Magnificent Bird / Book of Travelers

This Day, Every Day


by Andrew Marantz

Credible Journey
Essays
Magnificent Bird / Book of Travelers

Credible Journey


by Nate Chinen

Gabriel Kahane: A Timeline (with notes & quotes)
Essays
Magnificent Bird / Book of Travelers

Gabriel Kahane: A Timeline (with notes & quotes)


by Literary Director, Lizzie Stern

Playwright’s Perspective: Gabriel Kahane
Essays
Magnificent Bird / Book of Travelers

Playwright’s Perspective: Gabriel Kahane


Playwright’s Perspective: Sarah Mantell
Essays
In the Amazon Warehouse Parking Lot

Playwright’s Perspective: Sarah Mantell


playwrights_V4Pink #1 copy
Essays

Same View, New Horizons


by Brittani Samuel