I began collaborating with Zoukak, building on my background in installation art. My work with them has centered on exploring their themes and texts through spatial dramaturgy, creating installations where the performance unfolds within the space itself. The scenography becomes an integral part of the narrative, holding equal weight to the text, light, and performance, rather than serving merely as a backdrop.
In Lucena, for instance, we constructed a set from discarded elements of previous productions, allowing the space to evolve and critique the dominance of text and religion. In The Love Project, the play unfolded in the liminal space of a hospital waiting room, where uncertainty, risk, and intensity prevailed. In I Hate Theatre, I Love Pornography, we tackled the tokenization of Arab artists and the commodification of their images in death with a mass grave of dolls adorned with soda cans and cleaning products. In He Who Saw Everything, the scenography featured a large-scale textile installation inspired by South American arpilleras—quilts created by women as a form of resistance and documentation of political violence.
This collaboration reflects the horizontal approach and methodology of Zoukak, where we continually question the nature of the stage itself: What is the space we represent, and who are we within it? This ongoing reflection even led me to perform as a character within the work, from which I would then generate the scenography, further blurring the lines between the performers and the space they inhabit.
Our collaboration with Ali Chahrour on Fatmeh and Leila’s Death centered on creating a scenographic approach that aligned with the cultural themes of Ali’s work, rooted in Arabic myths, traditions, and the political, social, and religious landscapes of the region. Ali’s exploration of the connections between body, movement, and tradition served as the foundation for our scenography, guiding us to shape the stage as a space that both reflects and enhances his themes of love, identity, and memory.The scenography we devised aimed to transform the stage into a landscape of void or desert—timeless, open spaces that allowed the audience to immerse in the emotional and cultural undercurrents of the piece. These spaces embodied both the enduring nature of tradition and the shifting impact of modernity on the body
In my collaboration with Ali Chahrour on Fatmeh and Leila’s Death, I focused on creating a sober, visceral space that reflected the central themes of his work. Ali’s choreography, rooted in Arabic myths and deeply informed by the socio-political context of the region, explores the tension between tradition and modernity, as well as the relationship between body, movement, and identity. The stage was transformed into a timeless, monochrome landscape, incorporating elements of the natural environment—stones, rocks, horizons, and the cycle of the moon—to evoke a sense of eternity and continuity. This minimalist design allowed the dancers’ movements to engage directly with themes of love, memory, loss, and the socio-political forces shaping the body.
The scenography was essential and stripped back, ensuring the audience could connect with the raw emotional intensity of the performance. Through the use of natural elements, I sought to create a space that reflected Ali’s broader exploration of how political and social realities shape human experiences and identities. The space highlighted the tension between movement and stillness, and the cyclical nature of life, death, and tradition, allowing these themes to resonate profoundly throughout the performance.
This project features a series of temporary sheds scattered across the Saint Michael neighborhood in Bordeaux, France. The area centers around the Basilica's Spire, an iconic urban symbol currently undergoing renovation (or was at the time of the project). Historically a port of entry for immigrants to France, Bordeaux prides itself on its strong sense of community, where ideological resistance to neoliberalism manifests in ongoing opposition to gentrification.
Invited by Dalila Boiteau, director of the Uze et Coutume theatre company, I explored the citizens' connection to the city through conversations with a few residents of Saint Michael. They guided us on walks through the neighborhood, sharing their urban memories tied to its iconic buildings, public spaces, and historical layout. Inspired by their complex experiences—ranging from feelings of safety and comfort to distress and displacement—I reinterpreted their stories into a series of individual pavilions.
Each pavilion, ephemeral in design, drew inspiration from the wooden scaffolding used for building restorations and the red mesh covering the Spire during its renovation. Hidden speakers within each pavilion played the recorded stories of the participants on a subtle loop.