A REVIEW OF OMEED’S TAPESTRIES
As I sit sipping a coffee, still surfacing from the emotional experience brought on by a full reading of “Omeed’s Tapestries” by Barry M. Putt, Jr., I find myself searching for answers as to the paradox of mankind’s capability to crassly and selfishly destroy another human being, and yet to be able love with enduring richness and purity

Reaching beyond, but not ignoring, paternalism’s firm grip on one of the world’s major regions, reaching beyond, but not ignoring misogyny and homophobia, and reaching beyond, but not ignoring corruption plagued careerism, Omeed’s Tapestries is stunning in it’s ability to get its sad, but necessary message across. It is a message of warning and a message of hope, though the latter of the most fragile quality. It is a message of love and its strength and vulnerability in the face of overwhelming suppression, both political and cultural. It is a message of escape and its near impossibility in a closed society, such as is being experienced to different degrees in many countries around the world today.
In the first few minutes of the play we are introduced to a purveyor of many of the negative qualities available to the human character: Wasim Azeez plays the part of Hajsafi most convincingly, so much so that in my notes, the first thing I wrote is that this character is an asshole. His daughter Mahasti Hajsafi, played wonderfully and convincingly by Sara Massoudi, boisterously affirms my characterization when she exclaims to her father towards the end of the play, “You’re a fucking asshole”. I felt support. In fact it is this young lady’s character which holds out for hope through the entire play while darkness surrounds her. It is her character which seeks to openly reach beyond the constraints imposed by culture, and it is her character which helped me to emotionally surface after this story. In short, Mahasti describes and argues for most poignantly the importance, and the overriding dominance, of protecting love. It is her character through courage who stimulates aspirations of hope, honesty and courage available to us all.
These qualities are also reflected in the bravery of simply risking homosexual love in the manor portrayed by Omeed, played well by Kamran Taherpour. He is able to hold onto his love for Afshar Mosaaheb, played stunningly by Amr Nabeel, even in the darkness of the milieu in which this love is cast. Amr shows us at once the strength of love, and its vulnerability to external damning forces. Cast into dire circumstances, both sides of this coin are played with poignant realism by Amr.
In their characterization as cops, John DiFilippo, who plays Officer Shojaee, and Arjun Biju, who plays officer Dabbagh, are equally facile in performing their roles – in this case as abusers. Presiding over this company of tough stuff is the magistrate Judge Iran Tabari, played with magisterial seriousness and irreproachable aloofness by Tauqeer Paul.
In the reading, three of the actors played more than one role. These characters, though marginal, were instrumental in advancing mood and plot. All praise to Arjun Biju, John DeFilippo, and Tauqueer Paul for juggling roles with aplomb.
Also, in my opening notes, I wrote: “The dialogue quickly hints at an underlying ominous danger. The tension of the situation is palpable. The action proceeded to erupt rather quickly without warning.” This is all what I consider to be aspects of solid writing by Barry M. Putt, and in bringing it alive so well Robert Liebowitz’s direction got the job done!
Steven Malski Niles
New York City
