Sara Amini’s latest theatrical work Saria Callas is a striking blend of political urgency, personal memory, and fearless performance. Interweaving themes of state control, gender identity, and creative freedom, the show invites audiences to confront uncomfortable truths through humour, music, and storytelling. As both writer and performer, Amini channels lived experience into a moving theatrical tapestry that resonates across borders. We caught up with her to talk about Saria Callas, its creative journey, and what it means to speak freely in today’s world.
How did the idea for Saria Callas first come to life, and what made now the right moment to tell this story?
I’ve always wanted to speak from my own experience about what it means to be suppressed. I wanted to talk about how people’s dreams and talents are destroyed because of various forms of prejudice. And I was looking for a way to make this concept more accessible to a British audience — to show that prejudice and the restriction of personal freedom aren’t limited to one particular place. We face them every day, all around the world. And sadly, we’re witnessing how the rights of minorities are increasingly under threat everywhere.
We live in a time when basic freedoms are still denied: from abortion bans in parts of Europe to women in Iran fighting for the right to dress freely or even sing in public. In Afghanistan, girls are barred from education, and in the U.S. and Uk’ laws targeting women and trans rights are on the rise.
The urge to control marginalised groups — especially women and trans people — is growing. Freedom and democracy are fragile, and we must protect them daily.
Saria Callas was my way of inviting audiences to reflect on these issues. Though the story begins in a small, personal world, it opens up to a universal question about autonomy — over our voices, bodies, and choices.
The show interweaves humour, trauma, and music—how did you find the balance between vulnerability and defiance on stage?
I tried to reflect the everyday life of us Iranians. We’ve always lived like this — a combination of vulnerability and defiance — and that’s exactly why humour and joy play such an important role in our lives. When you live under constant pressure, you learn how to arrive at a strange mix of joy, pleasure, and fully living even in the midst of anger and despair. It’s a human instinct for survival, and I tried to reflect that mix in my show
As an Iranian living in Europe, I am constantly seeing representation of fellow Iranians in a negative light. I want to break this trend and shine a light on all of the beauty, humour and normal, daily lives of Iranians.
You draw heavily from your own lived experiences. What emotional or creative challenges did that bring?
Writing about my own life was actually the easiest part — it flowed like a river, as if a long-held lump in my throat had finally found a way out. But much of the story in my play isn’t directly from my life; it’s fictional, built on interviews with others who generously shared their experiences and helped me shape the bigger picture. The real challenge was weaving these different stories together and finding an organic connection between them — creating a unified, coherent whole.
Saria Callas touches on generational identity and motherhood. How did becoming a parent shape the narrative?
When I became a parent, the responsibility and the control that you gain is not something that your really consider to its full extent. The dynamic between a parent and child is quite unequal and makes me think of what it is to ‘protect’. The idea of protection that one receives from their parent (or the government) impacts your life, but also shapes your parenting too. This became quite a pivotal part of the narrative, unpacking the impact that interference of the state or a parent has on this relationship. Where is the line and when is it right to cross it? Is it okay that a mother makes some decisions on behalf of their child?
I use my own experiences and emotions, both as a mother and as a child. The interviews I had with trans & non-binary artists were also incredibly helpful in shaping the mother-child relationship through Saria Callas and the story’s journey of gender identity exploration.
What has the process of merging personal memory with collective political history taught you as an artist?
I approach this topic very cautiously because Iran’s contemporary political history is extremely complex, with many different narratives and various political factions. I tried to be a very personal storyteller, and of course, when you speak very personally, the greatest common points also become clear. This was exactly what I found interesting in writing and creating this work: when you tell a very personal story, you can engage audiences from diverse political views.
As a woman who grew up where singing was forbidden, how does it feel to now raise your voice centre stage?
It’s both deeply rewarding and painful. To see how prejudice can destroy so many dreams and talents. Every time I perform, that pain feels fresh again. Of course, I’ve been lucky to have concerts in London, and this isn’t my first experience as a singer. But clearly, many of the dreams I should have been able to reach in my own country were never fulfilled. This is a story shared by many who have become disheartened because their freedoms were taken away. As I say in the show, there are fish who never made it to the sea and perished in small ponds where they were trapped. And of course, this isn’t just limited to Iran. Unfortunately, we’re witnessing how the basic rights of minority groups, like trans people, are being eroded every day right here. For me, these are two sides of the same coin — the issue of taking away people’s freedoms because of mental prejudices.
Your show plays in both London and Glasgow. How have different audiences responded to its themes of gender, art, and resistance?
I haven’t performed in Glasgow yet, but I can share my experience in London, which was very positive. I feel I succeeded in expressing what I wanted and connecting with the audience. I wanted to start with a personal story from a place that might not be familiar to many Londoners, but gradually bring them closer and show how universal these concepts are—and how constantly threatened they remain everywhere. Concepts like democracy and freedom are the result of years of human struggle; they are not easily won but can be easily lost, so we must always protect them. I hope to be able to establish this connection with audiences in Glasgow as well.
How does being part of London’s bold, creative scene—especially spaces like Camden and Shoreditch—influence your work and how it’s received?
Camden People’s Theatre is one of the few theatres in London that has managed to maintain its support for political and avant-garde work while preserving its independence. Another key feature of Camden Theatre is that it supports many independent artists from the very beginning of their ideas, helping them to stage their work with great boldness—something that is quite rare in London’s theatre industry. I am very proud to have been able to present my work in such a space, with the support of the former artistic director and the current artistic director of Camden People’s Theatre. I believe I was able to reach a very suitable audience for my work, which is very encouraging for this project’s beginning.
