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ARMENIAN ROOTS AND IDENTITY
Charlotte Stoudt
Calendar Live
LA Times, CA
May 25 2007
Theater Beat
A wacky star is born in 'Tinseltown'
"Eth-nic." Nora Armani pronounces the word like she's trying to
swallow something that doesn't agree with her. No wonder: This
Armenian-Egyptian-American actress-poet-storyteller knows all those
hyphens can really stick in one's throat. Does difference set you -
or keep you - apart?
Armani's one-woman show, "On the Couch," which kicks off the Fountain
Theatre's Summer Armenian Festival, meanders unevenly through a life
spent crossing borders geographic and emotional. With her striking
looks and British-inflected vowels, Armani has an elegant, feline
presence. Yet "On the Couch" lacks a satisfying cohesion, even for
a monologue about the experience of diaspora.
The show is loosely framed around an unresolved affair - Armani
keeps addressing her lover, imagining him sitting in the audience
- a strategy that feels indulgently dear-diary-ish. (Although she
does offer a sly riff on how cultures around the world deal with the
eternal question of men, women and the toilet seat: up or down?)
Far more interesting are her stories about family rituals, tales of
courtship, and surviving the Armenian genocide, all of which bring out
Armani's engaging vitality. She ends, however, on a bittersweet note:
"Where is my home?" she wonders. "Where is my spirit?" But it's as
if she hasn't heard her own story: Home is the sound of her Armenian
accent and her French one; old world memories and Hollywood horror
stories; the sway of her hips when she dances, the ironic elan of her
parting shots. As that other Egyptian diva Cleopatra knew, infinite
variety conquers all.
Charlotte Stoudt
Calendar Live
LA Times, CA
May 25 2007
Theater Beat
A wacky star is born in 'Tinseltown'
"Eth-nic." Nora Armani pronounces the word like she's trying to
swallow something that doesn't agree with her. No wonder: This
Armenian-Egyptian-American actress-poet-storyteller knows all those
hyphens can really stick in one's throat. Does difference set you -
or keep you - apart?
Armani's one-woman show, "On the Couch," which kicks off the Fountain
Theatre's Summer Armenian Festival, meanders unevenly through a life
spent crossing borders geographic and emotional. With her striking
looks and British-inflected vowels, Armani has an elegant, feline
presence. Yet "On the Couch" lacks a satisfying cohesion, even for
a monologue about the experience of diaspora.
The show is loosely framed around an unresolved affair - Armani
keeps addressing her lover, imagining him sitting in the audience
- a strategy that feels indulgently dear-diary-ish. (Although she
does offer a sly riff on how cultures around the world deal with the
eternal question of men, women and the toilet seat: up or down?)
Far more interesting are her stories about family rituals, tales of
courtship, and surviving the Armenian genocide, all of which bring out
Armani's engaging vitality. She ends, however, on a bittersweet note:
"Where is my home?" she wonders. "Where is my spirit?" But it's as
if she hasn't heard her own story: Home is the sound of her Armenian
accent and her French one; old world memories and Hollywood horror
stories; the sway of her hips when she dances, the ironic elan of her
parting shots. As that other Egyptian diva Cleopatra knew, infinite
variety conquers all.