ثمّة تاريخٌ في الذاكرة الخليجية يشبه ندبةً على جبين الغناء والدراما الخليجية، يصادفه غداً في ذكرى 11 أغسطس. اليوم الذي بدا كأن الزمن اختبر فيه هشاشتنا مرتين؛ حين توقّف قلبُ الفن وخطف صوته وبسمته معاً، برحيل هَرَمين من أهرام الإبداع الخليجي، تركا فراغاً لم يملؤه بعدهما إلّا الصمت.
في 11 أغسطس 2000، صعد طلال مدّاح إلى خشبة المفتاحة في أبها، يغنّي كما لو كان يودّع العمر بأناةٍ ووقار.
كانت لحظةٌ خاطفة، انحنى فيها الجسد محتضناً عوده، فلامسَتِ الأسطورةُ نهايتَها على المسرح الذي أحب، أمام جمهوره الذي حمل الصدمةَ في عيونٍ دامعة ووجع لا ينسى، وعاد بعد سنوات إلى مسرح حمل اسمَه تكريماً لمن جعل من الخشبة وطناً للصوت، فصار مسرح طلال مدّاح شاهداً على أنّ الفنّ يرحل واقفاً ولا يموت.
وفي 11 أغسطس 2017، أعاد القدرُ الوجع من لندن مرّة أخرى. حيث توقّف قلب هرم الدراما الخليجية عبدالحسين عبدالرضا بعد معاناةٍ مع المرض، فانطفأ قنديلُ الدراما الذي أضاء لسنواتٍ أرواح البيوت الخليجية.
رجلٌ صاغ للضحكة مقاماً، وللسخريةِ حكمةً مُستندةً إلى نباهةٍ اجتماعية لم تُهادِن، وحين أسدل الستارُ الأخير، بدا كأنّ زمناً بكامله طوى صفحته.
بين الوقفتين، يتبدّى المعنى: ليس التزامنُ محضَ مصادفةٍ في التقويم، بل القدر حين يختار اليومَ نفسه ليجرّب مرارة الفقد. توقف قلبُ صوت الأرض على المسرح، وتوقّف قلبُ الممثّل بعيداً عن الخشبات، فتوّحدت الإشارة: قلب الفن توقّف في 11 أغسطس. ومع ذلك، تبقى الذاكرةُ صلبةً كأنّها صرحٌ ثالث لهذين الهَرَمَيْن؛ تُخلِّد صوتَ طلال في مسرحٍ يحمل اسمه في أبها، وتُستعاد ملامحَ «أبو عدنان» في مسرح يحمل اسمه في الرياض، وتكريماتٍ حاضرةٍ في المشهد لخليجي، تستلهم أثرهما وتُبقيهما في المخيلة.
وهكذا، كلّما عاد 11 أغسطس، ارتفعت يدُ الذاكرة إلى صدرها لتتحسّس نبضاً مفقوداً، وتقول: هنا خفق قلبُ الفن.. وهنا توقّف، مرتين.
11 أغسطس.. اليوم الذي توقّف فيه قلب الفن مرتين
9 أغسطس 2025 - 18:41
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آخر تحديث 9 أغسطس 2025 - 18:41
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There is a history in the Gulf memory that resembles a scar on the forehead of Gulf singing and drama, which will be marked tomorrow on the anniversary of August 11. A day that seemed as if time tested our fragility twice; when the heart of art stopped and its voice and smile were taken away together, with the departure of two giants of Gulf creativity, leaving a void that has only been filled by silence since.
On August 11, 2000, Talal Maddah ascended the stage of Al-Muftaha in Abha, singing as if he were bidding farewell to life with patience and dignity.
It was a fleeting moment, where the body bent, embracing his oud, and the legend touched its end on the stage he loved, in front of an audience that carried shock in tearful eyes and unforgettable pain. He returned years later to a stage that bore his name, honoring the one who made the stage a homeland for sound, thus the Talal Maddah Theater became a witness that art departs standing and does not die.
On August 11, 2017, fate brought back the pain from London once again. The heart of the giant of Gulf drama, Abdulhussain Abdulredha, stopped after suffering from illness, extinguishing the lamp of drama that had illuminated the souls of Gulf homes for years.
A man who crafted laughter into a melody, and sarcasm into wisdom grounded in social insight that did not compromise. When the final curtain fell, it seemed as if an entire era had turned its page.
Between the two pauses, the meaning becomes clear: the coincidence is not merely a calendar coincidence, but fate when it chooses the same day to test the bitterness of loss. The heart of the voice of the land stopped on stage, and the heart of the actor stopped away from the boards, thus the signal united: the heart of art stopped on August 11. Nevertheless, the memory remains solid as if it were a third monument for these two giants; it immortalizes Talal's voice in a theater that bears his name in Abha, and the features of "Abu Adnan" are revived in a theater that bears his name in Riyadh, with honors present in the scene for Gulf artists, drawing inspiration from their impact and keeping them alive in the imagination.
Thus, every time August 11 returns, the hand of memory rises to its chest to feel a lost pulse and says: Here the heart of art beat... and here it stopped, twice.
On August 11, 2000, Talal Maddah ascended the stage of Al-Muftaha in Abha, singing as if he were bidding farewell to life with patience and dignity.
It was a fleeting moment, where the body bent, embracing his oud, and the legend touched its end on the stage he loved, in front of an audience that carried shock in tearful eyes and unforgettable pain. He returned years later to a stage that bore his name, honoring the one who made the stage a homeland for sound, thus the Talal Maddah Theater became a witness that art departs standing and does not die.
On August 11, 2017, fate brought back the pain from London once again. The heart of the giant of Gulf drama, Abdulhussain Abdulredha, stopped after suffering from illness, extinguishing the lamp of drama that had illuminated the souls of Gulf homes for years.
A man who crafted laughter into a melody, and sarcasm into wisdom grounded in social insight that did not compromise. When the final curtain fell, it seemed as if an entire era had turned its page.
Between the two pauses, the meaning becomes clear: the coincidence is not merely a calendar coincidence, but fate when it chooses the same day to test the bitterness of loss. The heart of the voice of the land stopped on stage, and the heart of the actor stopped away from the boards, thus the signal united: the heart of art stopped on August 11. Nevertheless, the memory remains solid as if it were a third monument for these two giants; it immortalizes Talal's voice in a theater that bears his name in Abha, and the features of "Abu Adnan" are revived in a theater that bears his name in Riyadh, with honors present in the scene for Gulf artists, drawing inspiration from their impact and keeping them alive in the imagination.
Thus, every time August 11 returns, the hand of memory rises to its chest to feel a lost pulse and says: Here the heart of art beat... and here it stopped, twice.

