For me, this theater—Tamashakhaneh Tehran—was first a woman enshrined in a stone wall.
A prominent figure that, like Michelangelo's half-finished sculptures, creates this feeling in me that I want to pull the absent half out of the heart of the stone.
This enshrined woman was an image that was screaming, among the ugly ruins, “Look at me (I’m still here) (I exist)”

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