Sand Opera began out of the vertigo of feeling unheard as an Arab American, in the decade after the terrorist attacks of 2001. After 9/11, Americans turned an ear to the voices of Arabs and Muslims, though often it has been a fearful or selective listening. Even Errol Morris chose to interview only Americans for his Abu Ghraib film, “Standard Operating Procedure.” After 9/11, I’ve found myself split—between my American upbringing and my Arab roots, between raising young children and witnessing the War on Terror abroad. I continue to ask myself what it means to be a human being—and what it means to rear vulnerable creatures—in a world where humans seem hell-bent on violence, using “defense” and “security” as alibis for domination and revenge. I take solace in Herodotus’s notion of writing “to prevent these deeds from drifting into oblivion,” and find peace in the durability of art—that momentary stay against confusion.
“Illumination of the Martyrdom of St. Bartholomew” is inspired by a manuscript leaf torn from a Laudario, which appeared in a visiting exhibition at the Cleveland Museum of Art.
“abu ghraib arias” is a dialogue between Standard Operation Procedure for Camp Delta in Guantanamo Bay, the soldiers who served in Abu Ghraib, and the Abu Ghraib prisoners. I draw upon a number of sources: a Standard Operating Procedure manual for Camp Echo at the Guantanamo Bay prison camp (thanks to WikiLeaks); the testimony of Abu Ghraib torture victims found in Mark Danner’s Torture and Truth: America, Abu Graib, and the War on Terror; the words of U.S. soldiers and contractors as found in Philip Gourevitch and Errol Morris’s The Ballad of Abu Ghraib; the official reports on the Abu Ghraib prison scandal (the Taguba Report, the Schlesinger Report, etc.); interviews with Joe Darby and Eric Fair (two whistle-blowers); the Bible; and the Code of Hammurabi.
“Woman Mourning Son” is inspired by a 2007 photograph by Alaa Al-Marjani.
“Recipe from the Abbasid” is inspired by an Abbasid recipe from Nawal Nasrallah’s Delights from the Garden of Eden: A Cookbook and History of the Iraqi Cuisine.
“Home Sweet Home” relies upon a letter from a friend and an interview of a widow taken by Jim Sheeler and published in Final Salute: A Story of Unfinished Lives.
“The Iraqi Curator’s PowerPoint” is for Donny George Youkhanna, the curator of the National Museum of Iraq during the invasion of Iraq. He died in 2011.
“Asymmetries” is after Spencer Tunick, and dedicated to Amy Breau.
“Salaam Epigrams” is inspired by the calligraphy of Nihad Dukhan and dedicated to Leila. Thanks to Nihad Dukhan for his permission to reprint in miniature his “salaam.”
“War Stories” relies on a story shared by Rob Slattery, about a friend’s brother who kept a box of ears from his time in Vietnam during the war.
“Hung Lyres” is for my daughters, Adele and Leila. The section “in the cell of else” refers to the interrogation of Mohammad al-Sliha at Guantanamo, who was exposed to “variable light patterns and music”—including Drowning Pool’s “Let the Bodies Hit the Floor,” “Barney Is a Dinosaur,” Rage Against the Machine, and the Sesame Street theme.
“Breathing Together” relies on a letter from a friend.
“Testimony” is for Daniel Heyman, in gratitude for his documentary art on the testimonies of Iraqis.
“When I was a Child, I Lived as a Child, I Said to My Dad” is for Dad and Mom. It references a post-Gulf War video game, The Mother of All Tank Battles.
“Etruscan Cista Handle” describes a piece at the Cleveland Museum of Art, a 4th century cista handle.
“A Toast (for Nawal Nasrallah)” is for the exiles, especially Nawal Nasrallah, Shakir Mustafa, Kadhim Shaaban, and Salih Altoma.
On page 69, the image of Saddam Hussein’s fingerprints can be found here: http://www2.gwu.edu/~nsarchiv/NSAEBB/NSAEBB279/ (National Security Archive, posted July 1, 2009, last accessed September 22, 2014).
“Cell/(ph)one (A simultaneity in four voices)” employs found language, including text from a story in the New York Times about a Guantanamo prisoner.
“Homefront/Removes” is dedicated to the victims of the terror war, especially to Mohamed Farag Ahmad Bashmilah, held and tortured in secret U.S. prisons. Bashmilah’s legal case against Jeppesen Dataplan, a Boeing subsidiary, was for its knowing participation in the “extraordinary renditions” of detainees in the War on Terror. Throughout the book, one can find renderings of drawings by Bashmilah. His testimony is in italics.
“Compline” takes its name from the final prayer in the Book of Hours, which takes place late in the night. The poem borrows language from Isaiah.