Life is a DRAMA Born of a Syrian father – the renowned musician Samir Arafeh – and a Lebanese mother, Amal Arafeh has played significant roles in a numb ber of Syrian TV series, such as Khan al Harir (Al Harir Inn) and Thikrayat Al Zaman Al Kadem (Memories of the Upcoming Era). She has enjb joyed a successful singing career and has also written for the hit comedy series Dunia (World) before taking on the role of producer, writer, director, and star of the Ramadan series Ishtar in which she played the role of an actress.

Please identify the major obstacles or challenges facing you as a drama actress today. And how do they affect you?
Arab artists in general, and Syrians in part ticular, are facing a wide spectrum of problems – mainly the lack of professional standards. Prolt longed working hours are the most prevalent and strenuous challenge. We work about 16 hours per day in most productions, for a total of three or four months each. Television stations are part of the problem, as they demand 30 episodes per production. This is especially strenuous during the holy month of Ramadan, which in my opinit ion is not necessary. Another simple, but annoying problem is the absence of logistic coordination. For example, in most cases when we need to change our clothes on the scene, we have to find a nearby restaurant or even knock on people’s doors asking permisst sion to use their house as our personal wardrobe facility. Consequently, all that really marginalizes our personal and social lives; we don’t know how the year went by to be able to celebrate New Year’s. I am taking a break from all that now. I have rejected many roles during the past three months, partially due to my ingrained belief that the proposed roles are futile and have no artistic value. In return, I have much more time for my daughter, my family, and myself.

What affect has the last three months hiatus had on your professional life?
Well, everything in life is worth having a period of contemplation. I think stepping away from the overwhelming atmosphere every now and then helps me recharge myself and allows me to reevaluate my choices. Especially considering that I am a perfectionist in this everchanging, not to mention cluttered market – which is not necessarily filled with high quality productions.

What do you suggest to regulate working hours?
I believe that our working standards can be better organized. For instance, there are at least three hours of almost every 15 working hours wasted on fixing certain technicalities. I believe with enough strategic planning and technical training, we can minimize our workit ing hours to eight. To be more objective, I don’t want to entirely blame producers for this delinquency. If TV channels accept producing 15 episodes rather than 30, it will still guarantee relaying the message of the production, giving it the proper marketing potential, and not to ment tion giving the chance for other productions to take their share of the market as well.

How would you rate the success or failure of a production knowing that in the Arab world we do not have a dependable rating system?
Rating a production depends on a few things, such as advertising, the nature of the production, its targeted viewet ers, and simply our human nature. For instance, as humans, we are extremely emotional. If we succeed, we claim to be the most successful, and we do the opposite if we fail. Another factor is the nature of the production – whether it political, historical, or a novel, bect cause each would be targeting a certain section of viewers. For instance, Zaman Al-Khawf (The Age of Fear) by Inas Hakki, for which I was nominated as best actress by Adonia, targeted viewers interested in history and politics. Haseeba, a novel by Khairy Dahabi, is being screened on Showtime for the third time. The series Bab Al-Harah (The Gate of the Quarter) was a significant success and had an enormous impact on viewers, because it satisfied the demand or desire for reproducing the traditional Syrian lifestyle. Moreover, it was screened on MBC, which is, by itself, an automatic 50% chance of success. But above all, it was performed by a constellation of the best Syrian actors.

Out of the various roles you have played, which is your favorite and why?
You’ll be surprised to know that the roles closest to my heart are actually contradictive to each other. That’s why I always aim to challenge myself and diversify my roles. Haseeba and Ghozzlan Fi Ghabat Al-The’ab (Deers in the Wolves’ Jungle) are good examples.

Do you feel that contradictive roles take a toll on you psychologically?
Yes, each role adds to or subtracts from my life. The roles that involve tyranny, poverty, oppression, and frustration affect me a lot and hurt me to the point that I go home dept pressed. How could anyone bear to live in such circumstances? However, during the making of the comedy Kasr Al-Khawater (Breakit ing Hearts), I would come home refreshed and energetic. I enjoyed Khan Al-Harir. Both parts depicted a gypsy girl who fell in love with a city boy. But Dunia is the closest to my heart, because it was the turning point in my professional life. It was a magnificent experience, from writing to technical production – but it sure took a lot of patience.

How do you choose your scripts – then translate into a character?
Drama is an ever-changing, adaptable, and developit ing science. You’ll always find me observing and rest searching for the details of my character, so I can bett ter digest it and properly present it. Starting from the mixture of feelings and emotions, up to the outer physical appearance, my key worry is always focused on whether the plot and social circumstances complement and suit my role. Building the character is not achieved overnight. There should be a spiritual accommodation between me and the scenario. In fact, sometimes it feels like you went to bed in the vallt ley, but woke up in the mountains.

Some actors complain about the lack of makeup and special lighting exp pertise. These are things that would enhance the quality of production in addition to making the actor look better. Do you share the same concp cerns?
In my opinion, makeup is not just cosmetic. I am not concerned with looking beautiful during my role as much as how my appearance will suit my character. Some roles require me to appear sick or injured, not beautiful. To me, everything needs to complement the character. I can never accept a loct cation or piece of scenery that doesn’t add to the character. These days, we are hiring Irant nian experts and supplementing them with Arabian talents and proft fessionals. Ishtar, which I wrote myself, is about an 18-year-old ordinary, ugly, and fat girl who changes from an unknown to a supt perstar – and moves from a dark hole to the spotlight. Dr. Fuad Dahdouh helped reproduce the body shape of an 18-year-old overwt weight female body and Dr. Abdul Kader Abdul Rahman designed a special denture to give my face and jaws the rounded shape to suit her 130kg body. Ishtar’s character was not simply added to the story; it was generated according to my exact written description of the character, so it was convincing.

What’s different about Arab productions compared with American or European productions?
Of course, the comparison is as difficult as comparing life on the moon or Mars. The American drama is distinguished by its advanced technt nical and financial resources. On the other hand, we are perplexed when we are faced with a scene involvit ing a moving car or a chase. We’re baffled. Where should we place the camera? Oh, what if it shakes?

Are there any regrets in your professional life?
I have a million observations on each and every role I have played, but that doesn’t mean that I regret any of them. It is important to note that the artist’s performance should be evaluated and judged according to his or her age, capabilities, and experience. In other words, each segment of that actor’s body of work should be assessed accordingly.

What kind of advice can you give new talent?
Frankly speaking, the way home is often more exquisite than the home itself. Sometimes, dreaming of success is more satisfying than success itself. So you should work hard and give it your all. The strongt ger the foundation you create, the more authentic success you’ll attain.

How do you see yourself a singer, a writer, or an actress? And who is your mentor?
They are all part of me and my artistic background. Singing is an art just as acting is. It requires time and attention to gain rewards. But I am first and foremost an actress. I have dedicated my life to acting and it has been fruitful. On another level, as a writer, I am really happy to have the highest rating or readet ership. That said, after my father, I would say Haitham Hakki is my spiritual father and mentor.

How important is the academic degree in your profession and do you agree that there is a gap between education and practice?
Academic studies are a very important section of life, but they certainly do not create an artist or talent. Schools today are purely confined to the theoretical proct cess, not the practical experience. For exat ample, doctors have to undergo long years of theoretical requirements – with only some field training. However, when they start a practice in real life, everything is a hundred percent different, because they are faced with major decisions that have great consequences on their patients. So yes, certainly there is a gap, but one must admit that it is natural and reasonat able. This can only be solved by practice. If a student is dedicated to success they will invent ways to practice. On the other end of the equation, all the educational institutions should shoulder this responst sibility and give students the opportunity to train and practice as much as possible – at least during summer breaks, if not year-round.

How do you relate to your profession?
My profession, which I take seriously, is not less valuable than commerce, polit tics, or tourism. I view it as a heavenly value. It is sacred. In fact, I feel sorry and it hurts me to see the wrong people in powerful positions, because they affect the image of the whole industry.