At the rEvolver Festival, playwright Sarvin Esmaeili gives femme body hair a voice

In Hair Hair Everywhere, Shabnam debates whether or not she should shave

By emily lyth

Sarvin Esmaeili (left) and the cast of Hair Hair Everywhere.

As part of the rEvolver Festival, Upintheair Theatre presents Hair Hair Everywhere in association with Presentation House Theatre at The Cultch’s Green House on May 22, 28, and 29

DURING IRAN’S QAJAR dynasty in the 19th century, female facial and body hair was viewed as a sign of attractiveness. In fact, many women used to purposely darken their upper-lip hairs with mascara to resemble nawkhatt—young men sprouting the first traces of mustaches—who were seen as the epitome of beauty at the time.

So it begs the question: how did women go from being hair-happy back then to bogged down by regimented waxing, threading, shaving, and laser removal in the present?

Iranian-Canadian playwright Sarvin Esmaeili, who goes by the artist name Sarv Star, is addressing the topic in her new production Hair Hair Everywhere. The show digs into the vulnerability and insecurity many women nowadays feel around their body hair.

“It’s really about just embracing who we are,” Esmaeili tells Stir. “I think there’s been a lot of erasure and a lot of shame about how we look naturally. And what I’m trying to say with this play is, first of all, where is this coming from? Then acknowledging that also, it’s just hair; a lot of the characters at the end say ‘I’m just hair.’ At the end of the day, why are we attaching all these negative things—being dirty and being not pretty—to being hairy?”

The “characters” Esmaeili is referring to are a bit of a departure from those of a traditional play. In Hair Hair Everywhere, main character Shabnam’s head hair, as well as armpit hair, leg hair, and pubic hair are all given their own distinct voices and personalities. Humour and honesty carry the conversation in both English and Farsi as the personified hair types debate whether or not Shabnam should shave.

“I’ve always been very interested in silent voices,” Esmaeili says. “I feel like everyone has a voice, whether they’re a living being or they’re not. I feel like everyone is constantly communicating with us. And to me, body hair—especially female body hair—has always been suppressed and silent. So I think because they’ve been so silent and they’ve been so ashamed for so long, they just really wanted to come out, and just speak, and just take the audience’s attention, to be heard. I really believe that all parts of us need to be heard.”

Hair Hair Everywhere will be at The Cultch’s Green House this month as part of Upintheair Theatre’s rEvolver Festival. The concept for the piece first came to Esmaeili in 2022 when she was participating in Blackout Art Society’s STAND ALONE program (a development workshop for immigrant and refugee playwrights) at Presentation House Theatre; it stemmed from her own questioning of how Persian femme bodies were perceived in modern society.

She was later commissioned by Vancouver Asian Canadian Theatre to expand the work, and then revamped it again for a reading in January as part of Ruby Slippers Theatre’s Advance Theatre Festival. The rEvolver Festival is where she’ll put that reading on its feet for the first time as an in-development production.

“I really see that I’m having a much better relationship with my body and with myself.”

Sarvin Esmaeili.

Creating the play, the artist says, has taken her through an emotional journey of her own.

“There’s still insecurity for me to even show body hair, especially, for example, leg hair or armpit hair specifically,” Esmaeili shares. “And I feel like with just creating this piece, I’m realizing why I’m feeling this. I’m trying to be more compassionate with myself. I’m seeing the progress more. I don’t think I’m at the place where I’m like, ‘Okay, I am fully okay now.’ It’s such a long process. But I really see that I’m having a much better relationship with my body and with myself.”

Actors Pariya Zabihi, Bahareh Poureslami, Donia Kash, and Behtab Behseta will take on the roles of Shabnam, her mom, and a hairy ancestor from the past that visits her. They’ll also bring Shabnam’s hair types to life using costume puppetry designed by Rae Grant Duff; pubic hair, for instance, was made using a curly wig that was sewed onto a thong, which is worn over a pair of pants. Clever pelvic movements bring the character to life. Iranian-Canadian artist elika mojtabaei helped shape the piece as its dramaturg, with perspective and passion similar to Esmaeili’s own.

There are also ceremonial components to Hair Hair Everywhere. One of them is the incorporation of a bridal threading ceremony, a traditional Persian practice where women gather round a bride on her wedding day with energetic music, and the mother performs a song about giving her daughter away. Roya Torabi will be playing the tombak, a goblet-shaped Persian drum.

Shabnam invents the second ceremony with the help of her ancestor from the 19th century, who is notably hairy and fat (which Esmaeili emphasizes “was very normal and very accepted back then”). Together, the pair create the “drawing mustache ceremony”, in which they use eyeliner to make their upper-lip hairs appear thicker and darker, just as other Persian women once did.

“My hope is really for us, especially for Persian women, to just relax and try to accept that we are already beautiful,” Esmaeili says, adding: “I want it to be your choice. Like the choice to shave—because back then, women wanted to shave, some of them, but they couldn’t shave, you know? So it’s really asking everyone to be empowered with their own choice….I just wanted to normalize body hair, because it’s very normalized for men, and I’m wondering how we can also normalize it for women and femme-identifying people.”

As far as first steps towards normalization go, personifying pubic hair onstage in front of a huge crowd sounds like a pretty good one. 

---

Related Articles