A Good Neighbourhood by Therese Anne Fowler (Headline Review):
A perfect on-the-surface family moves into a new neighbourhood – a good American neighbourhood. The family next door is represented by an African-American mother with her mixed-race son.
The mother, whose fields are forestry and ecology, regards those who destroy trees as “raping the landscape”.
But not only had Brad Whitman cut down ALL the trees in the garden to build his brand new house next door, he had also circumvented all the rules with the help of officials charmed by his celebrity status. Because of unethical drilling practices in the back garden to build a patio and pool, it has damaged an ancient oak tree in Valerie Alston-Holt’s garden – the reason she has never left this home even though it held dark memories because of her husband’s death.
The scene is set for some explosive business with race, underhand dealings and an unwavering moral compass, all coming into play.
Adding to the already combustible mix are two young adults – the mixed-race Xavier Alston Holt (who in this time on face value is regarded as a young black male) and the lily-white Juniper Whitman – who fall in love even though the young man has been told by his mother that “those kinds of people are all about keeping their girls and their bloodlines ‘pure’. Forty, fifty years ago his kind would lynch you just for looking at her. Maybe they’re not stringing up boys anymore, but the attitudes haven’t changed.”
And watching what Americans get up to during lockdown – and before – this is not hard to imagine.
Juniper, on the other hand, took a purity vow at the age of 14 on the insistence of her stepfather Brad and her mom, Julia, who wants to protect her daughter from facing the same kind of dilemma she was faced with when pregnant and still just a teen. Brad often refers to her as a rescue bride because that’s what he did when marrying her with a young daughter, he believes. Scratch a little under the surface of any of these smiling families and the skeletons come tumbling out, is what the author implies.
But she’s set up the perfect scenario with which to tackle many different issues and she has also chosen a specific style in which to tell this story, with someone from the good neighbourhood as the narrator. Yet, while she/he/they address the reader directly, we don’t know who she/he/they are.
And it is especially with the narrator that I had problems. It’s a cunningly clever story as it brings together so many different strands and issues that criss–cross one another, in a very contemporary and accessible kind of way.
Take, for example, the Brad character. He is a self-made man but as soon as he starts making REAL money, a certain entitlement starts emerging as he cuts corners with anything he wants changed in his life. He feels that he has earned that and that he doesn’t have to consider anyone else in these dealings. It’s simply to satisfy his own needs.
As for his needs that emerge more clearly about his budding and beautiful stepdaughter, Juniper, he justifies those because he has assured himself that this inexperienced, naive young girl returns his feelings. He should be the first to show her the way.
It’s heady stuff as we dive into so many different dilemmas which families have to deal with in a world that is becoming more and more complicated to navigate. And because as a society we seem to hop, skip and jump from one story to the next due to a short attention span, one that seems to diminish daily, some people do terrible things with the knowledge that the information will only be out there for a blink of an eye. And they’re right. With scandals coming at you from across the world via a myriad of social media, how can you keep count? Some stick, others seemingly disappear without much attention, either good or bad.
So all these things play into a fascinating story of a good neighbourhood (and we know those, there’s a wonderful Afrikaans saying, Stil waters, diepe grond, onder draai die duiwels rond loosely translated as still waters run deep and that’s where the devil roams).
I could hardly put the book down because the story is so compelling, but throughout I was thinking of particularly two friends, both writers, who would kill this one. What was a thrilling story and one very relevant to our times, could also be a brilliant novel with some smarter writing and editing.
Take this following rumination:
“Two people are in each other’s company and feel the pull of attraction: We call that pull chemistry, but what is the actual substance? (Really?)
And it goes on…: What’s the biology of sexual attraction, and is that biology the same as romantic love, and did this pair of teenagers have it, whatever it is?
This rambling goes on for one and a half pages and the two teens who are sketched with much wisdom, would be far more interesting on this topic than the narrator(s).
So while this is a gripping novel to read and hugely enjoyable, it seems once you are a New York Times Bestselling Author, you can get away with almost anything.
There’s a reason good editors get such high praise. They are often the ones who keep authors honest, who can see when there’s something special but also when something needs some smart cleaning up.
It’s not the device that is the problem here, it’s the way it is applied that doesn’t quite work and as the story and the characters’ goings on get momentum, the irritation levels also rise…
But check it out for yourself. It is a damn good story.
The library is inhabited by spirits that come out of the pages at night.
– Isabel Allende
Diane de Beer
The Mirror and The Light by Hilary Mantel (4th Estate):
When the third in Hilary Mantel’s Tudor trilogy landed at home (thanks to the publishers), Covid19 had already surfaced across the world, I had an arts festival to attend and I thought it would be the perfect read for my husband who was staying at home, alone, for 10 days.
On my return, the lockdown hadn’t yet been announced, the book was waiting – and lockdown happened.
Unintentionally, I had in my hands what I think might just be the perfect lockdown read. It’s not every day that you’re excited about starting an 875-page book. For one thing they’re heavy to hold in bed, but Mantel being the writer she is, the topic – an extraordinary one and this third in the trilogy – as had been proven with the first two Booker-winning books, will take you to another world completely.
One which also has plagues it must be said, but then it’s reassuring to know that the world made it through those too – and they don’t play a large role in the story while adding to the overwhelmingly precarious circumstances of everyone except those serving the king – and they have the threat of possible death hanging over their heads all the time.
“But now there are rumours of plague and sweating sickness. It is not wise to allow crowds in the street, or pack bodies into indoor spaces.” Sound familiar?
Hilary Mantel is in a league of her own when it comes to historical writing. The layers of every sentence are mind-boggling, her language pure poetry and her storytelling abilities backed by research that is painstaking.
It is difficult to explain the full magnitude of her storytelling without it sounding tough to read, too much hard work or simply too much of a drag to even tackle. And I won’t lie, it isn’t easy reading in the sense of just picking up the book and diving into the story. Dealing with Henry VIII and his constantly changing court, depending mostly on his whims, you have to keep your wits about you to know who is who.
But Mantel knows that and she reaches out a helping hand with a very strong listing at the start of the book including all the main players. To give an indication what we’re dealing with, it starts with the heading The Recently Dead with the main topic of the previous book, Anne Boleyn, Queen of England, first on the list.
If you have read the previous two, Wolf Hall and Bring Up The Bodies, you will know that the trilogy while dealing with the reign of Henry VIII, centres on the machinations of Thomas Cromwell, later Lord Cromwell, Secretary to the king, Lord Privy Seal and Vicegerent in Spirituals; that is, the king’s deputy in the English church.
What his job(s) is really about is being constantly on call and responding to the king’s every whim. This is about a ruler and a time when his word and every wish was what everything was about. “Once Henry says, ‘This is my wish,’ it becomes so dear and familiar a wish that he thinks he has always had it. He names his need, and he wants it supplied.” And “He (Cromwell) thinks, I want to be able to locate the knave at a moment’s notice. The king spits at the name of Becket, but give him a year or two and he may change his mind, and make him a saint again. Sad, but those are the times.”
The complete disparity between the king and his immediate circle and the rest of the people reminds strongly of the world we live in today, so glaringly visible during Covid19 where the treatment in so many instances is dependent on good health services. Obamacare is beginning to make sense and when you see the statistics in the US of the disparity in communities worst hit by Covid19 nothing more has to be said. Similarly, the squalid circumstances of our squatter camps. Many people don’t even consider space a luxury.
More than anything though, because you have to pay attention when reading the dense writing of Mantel, it transports you into another world far removed from the one we live in because it is so far back in time (1536 – 1540). In a recent interview with Mantel when the interviewer wanted to know something about the world we find ourselves in now (this was before Covid19), her response was quick as she reminded her audience that she had been living in the 1500s for quite some time. With research, the book took 7 years to write and is described by the author as the “greatest challenge of her writing life”.
But just breathe in some of her writing:
“After supper, as a hush falls and the long midsummer day folds itself and disposes to dusk…”
When talking about the latest choice of wife for the king: “Which one will he take? They say the one has brown hair and the one blonde.
“Go for the blonde, is my advice.” …
“His tastes may have changed.” She looks at him as if he is simple. “I do not think blondes go out of style.”
That could be part of any contemporary story.
And this extraordinary thinking by Cromwell on plums: “He used to think that the plums in this country weren’t good enough, and so he has reformed them, grafting scion to rootstock. Now his houses have plums ripening from July to late October, fruits the size of a walnut or a baby’s heart, plums mottled and streaked, stippled and flecked, marbled and rayed, their skins lemon to mustard, russet to scarlet, azure to black, some smooth and some furred like little animals with lilac or white ash; round amber fruits like crimson eggs in a silver net, their flesh firm or melting, honeyed or vinous; his favoured kind the perdrigon and it black , the palest having a yellow skin dotted white, sprinkled red where the sun touches it, its perfumed flesh ripe in late August; then the perdrigon violet and its black sister, favouring east-facing walls, yielding September fruits solid in the hand, their flesh yellow-green and rich, separating easily from the stone…” and it goes on.
The richness of the description says as much about Cromwell’s need to have diversions as about his attention to detail, whether it is the king’s needs or his longing for the riches he was starved of in his rotten and abusive childhood.
And that’s what is so extraordinary about her writing. Mantel tells a story of the time as much about the people as the way they lived. One dithers constantly between caring deeply for or discarding Cromwell for his dastardly deeds. He was doing the kind of dance someone like Dr Fauchi or Governor Cuomo has to do around Donald Trump. It’s not that they want his favour, they need it to serve the nation.
For Cromwell it was about survival. While he accumulated much wealth and an enviable lifestyle at the time, his family savoured his successes after his death rather than him ever having the time. He was simply treading water and even though the reader knows the end of the story and the death of Cromwell from the beginning, it’s with huge sadness that you follow his downfall in the final chapters of a book that masterfully concludes a long sojourn with Thomas Cromwell and the king he served with everything he had.
Perhaps too well, but he never had any choice. And even the outcome was destined. If you have read the first two, this isn’t even an option. And if you haven’t, this is the perfect time to tackle all three. You won’t be sorry – almost guaranteed.
I can’t wait to see where Mantel goes next. Wherever it may be, I will follow.
I am fascinated by the idea that the greatest architecture in the city has happened by accident
Hustles – Five Years Of Local Studio by architect Thomas Chapman with photographer Dave Southwood:
Because of the time I’m writing in, I couldn’t speak to the author(s) face to face, but really didn’t need to, because they state their purpose so clearly in the book Hustle – Five years of Local Studio by Thomas Chapman (Photographer: David Southwood).
The title, explains the architect Thomas Chapman, refers to the “opportunistic process of becoming local – of using design to solve urban problems amidst immense financial and time constraints – and throughout this process, trying to hustle an architectural product that is present, engaged, hopeful and ultimately, never boring”.
Knowing a few of their buildings but also having read this book, they can never be accused of that – boring! No sir!
With this book then, Thomas wanted to capture the spirit of the five past years of his practice, which consisted entirely of projects that required hustling of some form or another to get the project done.
In the meantime, he states, while compiling the book, they have embarked on a new phase for the practice with “more trusting clients, (slightly) bigger project budgets and hence a greater refinement in design and construction.
He admits to it being tempting to include some of these projects to extract value from what was becoming a very expensive book, but he resolved to draw the line at 99 Juta, at the time their most recently completed project in Braamfontein, which he thought still captured the spirit of Local Studio as a start-up.
Their choice of photographer, David Southwood, a self-proclaimed human rights photographer, is someone whose pictures of their work made them change the way they saw and contextualised their work so that they started thinking differently about people in cities.
David recalls their first meeting in the book and quotes something he said on their drive: “I like photographing architecture, but I much prefer photographing scenes which embed the built form into the street and render the structure as a continuum of its context, if in fact they are at all connected. In fact the photos of architecture that I have done which I like the most obscure the structure almost entirely.” As it turned out, the architect and the photographer were a perfect match.
He remarked further on in this introduction: “The only way a practice can include as many street photographs as this in a monograph is if they are genuinely concerned with the street. Local Studio is obsessed with the street. The street is the immediate material context in Johannesburg if you are building, where the urban fabric is rough and unkempt.”
Familiar with the following project, the Outreach Foundation in Hillbrow, because of the Hillbrow Theatre where Gerard Bester is involved, this is also one of the projects I want to focus on here.
Gerard explains in a piece about this complex that the theatre provides a space for inner-city children and youth. It serves the neighbourhood and after-school programmes are held. The theatre was there, but in 2009 they raised some money for a homework centre. After workshops and discussions were held with Thomas, what emerged was a building that now houses the computer centre, dance studio, boardroom and offices of the youth centre.
He explains further that though Hillbrow has negative connotations for outsiders, “I think the people that actually live in Hillbrow, have made it their own.”
Even though it is one of the city’s toughest neighbourhoods, he believes that we have to keep “engaging an exercise in imagining what Hillbrow can be, and not oppose that; to absolutely engage with the people that reside in the neighbourhood, and not gentrify it but to create meaningful, authentic change.”
Which is exactly what has been happening with the project he is engaged with – creating a safe space that is also open and accessible.
Pretty close by is (was) the Hill Street Café, a steel restaurant pavilion built as a temporary structure on the foundations of a demolished lunatic asylum in Jozi’s historical Old Fort (just above the Constitutional Court) which was designed to last 2 years but eventually stood for four.
I can remember doing an interview with Gerard there about the Hillbrow Theatre and it’s a pity that the structure, which was erected there specifically to commemorate the space where the Asylum stood, has been removed. It was a warm and embracing space with great coffee and I remember cool service.
The other building which I am familiar with is the one that also houses the brilliant Breezeblock Café in Brixton. Called Fullham Heights, Thomas notes that it is one of the first projects to demonstrate the principals and guidelines of the Johannesburg Corridors of Freedom policy. It looks to promote mixed-use development and residential densification in neighbourhoods adjacent to the recently completed BRT (Bus Rapid Transit) network.
He explains that the building is a conversion of an old corner shop, which had been a Chinese restaurant and subsequently rented by Local Studio as office space prior to its purchase for redevelopment.
Now the building houses the funky Café and Whippet Cycle Company on the ground floor, Local Studio on the first floor and two residential units on the top floor. The new structure contrasts with the original concrete facade and pavement colonnade, which were restored as part of the project.
These are simply two projects selected because I am familiar with them, but there is so much more to this book. One needs to see the full scope to understand the ethos. Even if the firm is bigger and reaching higher, I can hardly believe that with this kind of creative compass, their work doesn’t still remain in this kind of contemporary African city mind space.
And what would be even better would be to buy the book and do your own guided tours to discover a city you probably weren’t even aware exists.
Anyone who knows artist/chef/stylist/entrepreneur Lientjie Wessels will remember her for her imagination and individuality. It is exactly those two elements that she exhibits so joyfully in her new recipe book titled Geure (flavours by Annake Müller Publishing). DIANE DE BEER spoke to the author:
As Lientjie tells it, she has for a long time been thinking of writing a cookery book. “My love of strong flavours and tastes came to the fore when I participated in kykNET’s Kokkedoor 3,” she says. And those of us who know her were quite surprised by her participation. But no one more so than Lientjie herself. That’s just who she is.
The first time I bumped into the extraordinary imagination of the larger-than-life Lientjie was with her Brooklyn Mall shop Lemon Lounge. You knew immediately if this was your kind of place or not and if it was, you were hooked on the Lientjie sensibility and style, which is all her own and has a charm that is completely unique. Her food and her fine art are interlinked and -twined – similarly in this book, which makes this one such a feast for the eyes with the food further enhanced by her paintings.
Lemon and vanilla cake
Her spectacular flair and flights of imagination flourished during her years in magazine styling and also in her much-loved restaurant Li-bel in Sunnyside and later Albizia in Cullinan and for a while on a family farm in that neighbourhood.
There has always been something of a gypsy about Lientjie, the way she embraces life and everything it offers. For those of us who favoured her food tables, there was always the knowledge that it might all be gone tomorrow, but also that it would appear in some other form – as it always does.
That’s why this book, which encapsulates it all, is such a treasure – so if your Afrikaans language skills are on par, this is one worth checking out.
Roasted marrow bone on green salad with pickled onion salsa
Salted snoek cakes
Because flavours, which were introduced to Lientjie by her mother (to whom the book is dedicated), have played such an important role in her food journey, this is the focus: vinegar, citrus, ginger, olives and olive oil, flowers, chilly and mustard, honey, saffron and vanilla, garlic, herbs, spices and salt, sumac and tamarind, nuts, sesame seeds and tahini.
She was helped by her late husband Robert (who sadly died suddenly last year) with the writing and, like with everything these two life travellers tackled, it is quirky and simply a joy to experience. Each chapter starts with a description of the flavour showcased and in many of them, Lientjie’s mother’s influence surfaces. “My first memories of vinegar,” she writes, “is absolutely the rows and rows of pickled onions that my mom made each year.”
Greek style leg of lamb with hasselback potatoes, anchovies, chimichurri and nasturtium chips
Roasted marrow bone on green salad with pickled onion salsa
And then the recipes follow and in this instance it stretches from pickled walnuts on toast with goat’s milk cheese and fast fridge pickle. Citrus is included in recipes of lemon mousse, lemon curd, soup with lamb shanks, rice and lemon, pork fillet with a lime sauce, fruit salad and more.
Lientjie’s food has always been rooted in South Africa but with a strong dose of Middle Eastern and Asian flavours. Her mother was her first and strongest influence and, according to Lientjie, started to cook because hér mother could not. “My grandmother taught me everything else, but not about making food.”
From the first time we talked about food, she has talked about her boredom threshold, and she believes that her restaurant days were always doomed, because she couldn’t be bothered to make a dish more than three times. By then she had achieved everything she wanted. Also probably influenced by her mother, who had such an unusual palate and constantly introduced her family to new flavours and textures. “She always wanted to make something new,” notes Lientjie.
But of course, that’s also what made her dining experiences so unique and unusual. She has a very distinct signature and the menu would always be a surprise. Similarly she has achieved that individuality in this absorbing book.
Salted snoek cakes
Dark chocolate ice cream with cardamom and pomegranate
The colours are vibrant and welcoming, the food – apart from being grouped according to flavour – is a lovely mix of starters, mains and desserts with sauces, snacks, breakfasts and more.
There’s never anything conventional or contrived about this artist. She is probably the last one I would have expected to appear on Kokkedoor and yet, in the end, it resulted in this fantastic book and when you listen to her, she also discovered a newfound confidence in her cooking during the show.
She also realised that she really likes food. Anyone who has had a restaurant will know that it must be one of the most challenging endeavours to attempt . She did it twice and then created a very niche way of dining. It was spectacular and appealed to a select and very loyal group of diners. Local chefs will tell you that South Africans are tough to feed and Pretoria, I have often been informed, is an especially difficult market at best.
But some of my best experiences were either at a pavement table at Li-bel with Lientjie and Robert’s dogs lying around, drinking a coffee after a delicious meal and never feeling I had to rush anything; or checking in for a Sunday meal at Albizia with Robert, a storyteller extraordinaire, entertaining us with his fables of life on the fast side.
And then there’s Lientjie’s art. It has been incorporated into the book in simply the best way and introduces even more of the way her mind and creativity works. For her, when she makes food or paints, the same principles come into play. “I can taste things in my head,” she says. It’s all conceptual, exactly like her art. “It’s about balance, colour and texture.”
Looking at the future, she wants to find a way to make people and cultures touch one another. “We have so many connections through food,” she explains.
And then she shares her delights in the best way she knows how – with her recipes and through her art.
For more detail on buying the book, contact Annake Müller Publishing: email@example.com. After lockdown they will be sending those books via courier.
These are tough times and yet for those of us privileged enough to stream and have other entertainment options like DStv, the options of how to pass the time with reading, movies, theatre, documentaries in-between work, are endless.
DIANE DE BEER reviews three of her current favourites:
We have to start with local and I was thrilled to see when Nicola Hanekom’s debut movie Cut-Out Girls appeared on Box-Office (currently at a mere R25 a movie).
Hanekom is one of our most exciting theatre director/writers who has recently also moved into television and now film, with this, her first feature film. In interviews she explains that she first wrote it as a play, specifically for young actors she was working with at the time.
The audience reaction was so unexpected (it’s a story about date rape), that she decided it needed a wider audience, and in this instance a film. These are debut film roles for all the youngsters. That’s amazing! And they had to do crowdfunding to make it all happen.
Kev (Cody Mountain) and Jenna (Kesiah Gabriel) in Cut-Out Girls.
Clea (Ashleigh van der Hoven) in Cut-Out Girls
Clea (Ashleigh van der Hoven) in Cut-Out Girls
Anni (Atlanta Johnson) in Cut-Out Girls
Rape is such a scourge in this country that we are all duty bound to talk about it. Even with this pandemic, around the world, abuse is a huge problem because so many people cannot deal with this kind of pressure and violence is their own release.
And with the young, the world we live in now, it’s not that everyone has to live scared, but they have to live smart. We have to know the dangers out there and how to keep ourselves safe – women and especially young women, who don’t yet have their cynicism radars working fulltime, have to be vigilant.
I remember Redi Thlabi in her book Endings and Beginnings writing about being scared when walking to school at the age of 11, highlighting the parallel universes we live in. Nevertheless, we’re all vulnerable and what Hanekom’s exposé uncovers so smartly, are the monsters within.
It is sometimes the boy next door, the tennis star, the popular personality at school who feels entitled. Because danger is something we live with in this world, we sometimes forget when we have to be on our guard. And this is the aspect Hanekom spotlights.
Being both writer and director and informed by an intimate knowledge of the cast, she could work smartly with a small budget. You certainly don’t feel short-changed and the performances are beautifully balanced.
It’s a film of our time, speaks to both young and old and extends the reach of one of our most innovative artists.
Another film I was keen to see, is also part of the Box-Office collection. Cynthia Erivo stars as Harriet Tubman in Harriet, the woman who not only escapes from slavery herself, but also freed many slaves as part of the underground railroad, a perilous freedom endeavour of that time.
At some point, Harriet says people should not be owned by other people, a sentence that is so obvious yet so ignored – even today – still. That’s why these stories are so important. This is also the time when the people affected (still today) by these abominations are the ones telling the stories. That makes a huge difference in both tone and authenticity.
And for this one specifically, Cynthia Erivo’s performance is epic. She was rewarded with the ONLY Oscar nomination for an actor of colour and also for the best original song, which she both co-wrote and performed. She’s a remarkable talent both as actor and singer. She has a strength of character and a powerful presence, which served the character well and her voice has a quality that stops you in your tracks.
Her rewards have been well deserved and this following huge controversy because she was a British actor playing an American character – but she proved them wrong and hopefully people were big enough to concede and witness her prowess.
The story is a great one but there are problems with the way the story was told – just clumsy and sometimes with too little subtlety and sensitivity. One would think it is a story that almost tells itself especially with Erivo as your talisman.
But it remains a story worthy of your time and money.
Last on the list is the latest NT Live streaming of 12th Night with Tamsin Greig as the main attraction. But she says herself, this is an ensemble cast as anyone familiar with this Shakespeare comedy will recognise. And while this is a matter of confusingly mistaken and hidden identity throughout, with director Simon Godwin’s gender-fluid production, you really have to keep your wits about you.
Greig is cast as Malvolio (or in this case Malvolia) and hers is the performance on which the play hangs. Not only is the gender switch in these times fun to watch and navigate but with a play that is a dialogue between order and disorder, puritanism and revelry, and finally, control and fear with terror the driver of control, another contemporary evil.
That is how the director viewed it says Greig in an interview which is useful to watch (even with a few spoilers) before getting into the play itself. It’s also part of the NT Live stable on YouTube and easy to find.
We have had our own innovative 12th Night (a Clare Stopford production in 1998 with amongst others Langley Kirkwood, Isadora Verwey, David Dennis and Bo Peterson) and it is a play that lends itself to interpretation as you heighten both the comic and tragic effects at will.
This being a first class British cast with some exceptional performances, a set that enhances the fast flow of the story, some excellent songs with a brilliant burlesque interlude stuck in between, Shakespeare can hardly be more contemporary. Just check a striking ensemble stepping out in their 21st Century ubiquitous veils.
It’s sassy and smart with as much laughter as there’s food for thought in a time when gender fluidity and identity could not be more centre stage. It’s exactly where we are now as Shakespeare in his constantly shows us: the more it changes, the more it stays the same.
Catch it on NT Live on YouTube until Thursday at 8pm when Frankenstein starring Benedict Cumberbatch follows. Don’t miss that either.
It’s a peculiar thing, synchronicity, but when it happens, it feels as if it was meant to be. Like reading two books, Fred Khumalo’s The Longest March (Umuzi) and Petina Gappah’s Out of the Darkness, Shining Light (Faber&Faber) in close succession.
Both of these are novels that focus on marches in the past, both retell the stories from another point of view, and both are based on fact with a fictionalised retelling which reimagines what might have happened in much more detail.
It is a time for many to relook at their histories which have always been told from the conqueror’s point of view, and on this continent that means told from a white perspective, often downplaying or more often disregarding any other point of view even when it was their story to tell or there was participation which shouldn’t have been avoided.
Like so many of these stories from our past, depending on the colour of your skin, they come as a complete surprise.
I start with Khumalo, because his story is closer to home. The facts weren’t familiar to me, giving the novel a fascinating backdrop. Approximately 120 years ago, 7 000 Zulu mineworkers walked from the gold mines in Jozi to Natal, covering a distance of 500 km over 10 days.
It wasn’t as if these men had a choice. When war is declared between the South African Republic and the British Empire, the mines are shut down and migrant workers are ordered to leave. But, there’s a problem. There are no trains running so the only way to get back home and away from danger is on foot.
Khumalo decides to tell a story with this as a backdrop as one of the miners, Nduku, decides to take his woman back home with him. Again, there’s a problem – she’s white. The only way to achieve this is to make her a mineworker’s wife and all this in spite of the couple having broken off their engagement.
There’s more than enough drama to go around – the physical and emotional journey for both Nduku and Philippa – who have to survive many mostly physical obstacles but also a handful of unseen and unexpected dangers.
It won’t be a South African story if someone doesn’t take advantage of those already in trouble. On the sidelines yet part of the journey is a group who are hoping to cash in on the salaries of these migrant workers on the long march home.
It’s gripping stuff and Khumalo is a supreme storyteller, but more than anything it was the march that really intrigued me. Of course it’s not something that was part of our school history during the apartheid years, and I would be joyous and surprised if it has become part of the curriculum even now.
But to discover and learn about this extraordinary sidebar during one of our many wars at the turn of the century is exhilarating. This is what is supposed to happen in a more enlightened time in a country.
Histories should be re-written and retold to reflect the role of everyone who was part of the story. For far too long the world has listened to too few voices simply because they weren’t there or drowned out by those who held the power.
In similar vein, Zimbabwean author Pettina Gappa tells the story of a very different march but with many similarities. Most importantly it is about bringing the main players in this drama from the shadows into the sunlight as the title implies.
Most of us will be familiar with the name Dr David Livingstone but unless you are a history buff, few people will know the story of the body of “Bwana Daudi – the Doctor”.
This is the story of the 69 men and women who carried his remains over 1 500 miles (imagine that!), so that he could be taken back to his homeland across the sea and thus buried in his own country. The heroics of even contemplating that deed make it extraordinary that this wasn’t part of our history.
But of course, never during apartheid and I again, I’m sure it still isn’t taught at schools or university as a general historical lesson. I’m not holding my breath that someone proves me wrong either – perhaps in some specialised field…even that would be good.
Gappah is a fascinating writer, not only in the way she tells stories but also in the stories she decides to tell. This one, as you can imagine, is above everything else set in a time of slavery, which brings yet another dimension to the tale. The fact that Dr Livingstone gave his slaves their freedom didn’t mean automatically that that would happen. Sometimes it was also a better life to keep toiling as if you were still in the same circumstances as before.
But also the people’s dedication, that they would even want to carry a white man’s bones so that they could be sent for burial in his homeland – at that time, is astonishing. In her acknowledgements the author notes that she spent 10 years on historical research. “But,” she writes, “I am under no illusion that this work is in any sense historically accurate. While rooted in historical fact, this novel is above all imaginative fiction.”
She points to a few historians but above all Thomas Pakenham, whose first chapter of The Scramble for Africa sparked the idea for this book as long ago as 1999. She adds that he was also both generous and kind when she consulted him on the project.
She believes she also had the privilege of consulting original letters, photographs, and other documents related to David Livingstone that are collected in all kinds of institutions, including the National Library of Scotland; the Peace Memorial Museum, Zanzibar; the David Livingstone Centre in Blantyre; and the National Archives of Zimbabwe in Harare.
“I especially want to mention the youngest Livingstone enthusiast of them all, dear Tayani Mhizha, who wrote a brilliant International Baccalaureate analytical essay on him at the age of seventeen,” she adds.
She also consulted many different letters and documents that are collected by different institutions around the world and pays homage to Livingstone Online, a programme initiated by all the institutions that are repositories for documents related to his life and travels.
Thanks goodness for technology – again! She concludes by saying: “The historians gave me facts, and my imagination supplied the rest.”
She also illuminates her writing with an introductory quote from The Last Journals of David Livingstone:
I trust in Providence still to help me. I know the four rivers Zambesi, Kafué, Luapula, and Lomamé, their fountains must exist in one region … I pray the good Lord of all to favor me so as to allow me to discover the ancient fountains of Herodotus, and if there is anything in the underground excavations to confirm the precious old documents, the Scriptures of truth, may He permit me to bring it to light, and give me wisdom to make proper use of it.
And then follows a most intriguing tale beginning with the death of Livingstone and those around him, how they made the decision to carry the body and everything else that happened during that final journey to the coast.
It illuminates much about the continent, the people, the period, how certain parts of history have simply been ignored as part of any narrative and the dangers waiting along the way for these intrepid warriors who were determined to do right by a man they felt deserved a final resting place in peace.
If only we would take the time to listen to Africa and its people more closely. It’s one of the reasons I love living on the continent – that people don’t speak with one voice but give us the chance to look at things from different perspectives. And then we can start living with some wisdom.
Giving voice to silenced perspectives has given a whole new way of experiencing the world.
Woordfees 2020 was the last public event which made it safely through before our current lockdown – and only by the skin of its teeth.
But the blessing for those of us who were privileged enough to be there for the full festival from March 5 to 15 was huge. The prize-giving event was planned for that final Sunday night – the only festivity which didn’t sail through because at that stage the full extent of the tragedy of Covid19 had landed.
Following the lockdown, all the judging panels swung into action and on April 7, the results were announced in a live event on Facebook (see below), I didn’t even know that was possible.
But it also gave me the chance to reflect on my highlights:
As part of the oversight panel convened by Gillian Mitchell and including Paul Boekkooi, we were responsible for the categories Best Upcoming Artists(s) and Best Festival Production. It meant that for the first time in ages I was fortunate enough to see productions across genres – and what a delight that was.
As best production, Die Poet, Wie’s Hy became an early benchmark that was never surpassed. It’s as close as you can get to perfection on a live stage.
Produced by De Klerk Oelofse with writer Adam Small’s poems at the heart of the performance, this was a Dean Balie passion product – and so much more. It’s theatre at its richest when all the elements fit seamlessly.
It was the sensibility, the music, the poetry, the setting and the performances but more than that, it was the magnificence of Balie’s performance throughout. He understands every word of Small’s poetry and made it sing – whether in anger, poignancy or exaltation.
He has done beautiful work in the past but this has elevated him to another level. It was the kind of performance which will make people view him in a completely different light – and he has always been rated.
Watch out for this one down the line. It should tour the country. It was also justly rewarded with the Best Performance: Contemporary Music – Music-driven Production.
The other category in which I was involved was the Best Upcoming Artist, which was awarded to René Cloete (Huppelkind). It is a Marthinus Basson children’s production which stole the hearts of many because of the way it was presented and performed, showing that you can make theatre for even the very young with enough artistry, imagination and enchantment to truly capture the compulsive nature of good theatre.
And with a cast including Joannie Combrink and Stian Bam, the young Cloete announced herself as someone to watch in the future. Not only is she a compelling performer, she also lights up a room with her enthusiasm and energy and promises to be an exciting future prospect.
Other highlights on the theatrical side included Nicole Holm (Best Actress) in Tweespoor, who again showed her acting chops; Robert Hindley (Best Actor), who plays the troubled son in Janice Honeyman’s Valsrivier, a production that showed promise but wasn’t quite where it should be at the early performance I saw. (The awards reflect that it grew during the festival run). It’s one I would like to see again with some necessary running time.
But the youngster had his character pat, perhaps because his is the receptor for everything that was wrong in those apartheid years. He climbed in boots and all, nailed it and was rewarded.
It’s quite a busy play both in storytelling and design and it needed some time for the ensemble to mesh, the spaces to be claimed and the story to truly infiltrate the stage. It made an impression, but it is one that should overwhelm.
Henriëtta Gryfenberg gave a brave performance in the Lara Foot (translated) play Die Vermoeienis van Vlerke, and Woordfees should be honoured for bringing the astonishing and unique (translated) Brandbaar with Rehane Abrahams back for another viewing; also Sandra Prinsloo who goes from strength to strength in Kamphoer.
On the art side, Gerhard Marx tickled the mind with his Vehicle: Sounding and Fathoms. I had seen a much earlier version, but this was a sleek and more substance-heavy return with the art performance including wordsmith Toast Coetzer and genius musos Kyle Shepherd and Shane Cooper. Included was also an exhibition of Marx’s earlier mapping work and he did daily walkabouts which put everything imaginatively into context. There were also a few interview sessions which further enhanced the overall exhibition.
At the performance, one could sit back, experience the effect of the living exhibition on your psyche and emotional being. This is an artist who always plays with your head yet never underestimates the impact on your heart – an explosive combination.
On the music side, the classical programme was quite fantastic with local productions like the Baroque Opera Gala Concert led by Erik Dippenaar, one of the top exponents of early music, and soloists Lynelle Kenned and Brittany Smith. I have only witnessed Kenned do popular music and didn’t know Smith, but everyone on that stage was impressive and provided joyous music to listen to.
Fynbosfeëtjies wasn’t strictly speaking classical music but with Antjie Krog’s verses being read masterfully by acting couple Petru Wessels and Carel Trichardt with soprano Renette Bouwer delightfully interpreting the songs composed by (from the writing) Katrien Holm, sensitively accompanied by the string quartet Evolution, it turned into a festival gift. Drawings from the book by Fiona Moodie set the mood for a surprisingly unexpected heart-warming concert.
With the international artists, Miriam Batsashvili’s piano recital and the LGT Young Soloists were overwhelming and a privilege to experience.
Slightly off the musical charts, the contemporary sounds that made me feel weak in the knees was the musical biography of Paul Simon – ‘n Lewe with music buffs Danie Marais, Kerneels Breytenbach and Desmond Painter talking about the New York composer/performer’s music while Andries Bezuidenhout, Lise Swart and Riku Lätti interpreted the Simon songs with flair.
And Nataniël worked his charm with Hoekom Hulle Swing with his fantastical stories and a musical genre that he does smartly as he is as much a master at re-jigging songs as he is at writing and telling stories. There are those costumes as well – and that at a rare festival appearance!
And in conclusion, which was the best choice to finish such an extraordinary festival: J Bobs Live – Off The Record. I have long been a fan of both Jefferson Tshablala (also this year’s Young Artist at the National Festival) and Philip Dikotla, joined here by Pule Welch who was new to me and I was delighted that the south had discovered one of Gauteng’s most precious artistic entities. Tshabala has a creative mind that moves in a miraculous way and bringing this particular franchise to the Woordfees with the example of the clashing of FW de Klerk and the EFF in parliament, was a stroke of genius.
It’s deals with nothing more – or less – than racism, but in a way that has everyone in the audience engaged, never enraged. That’s quite something. It’s also a production that underlines how laughter can heal, and yet with arrows plunging the depth of what truly troubles the world.
While there was much I didn’t see, good, bad and ugly, this is just a snapshot of one individual’s experience – and it was enough to keep me smiling even in lockdown!
May the artists bounce back with brilliance as they battle the worst possible odds.
The winners are:
WOW Teacher of the Year Rollan Andrews
WOW School of the Year Klein Nederburg Sekondêr
Best Production: Fringe
Moord, op die 8ste gat
Best Performance: Dance
Wag / Waiting
Best Achievement: Visual Art
The Shape of Things to Come – Olaf Bisschoff
Best Technical Achievement
Johan Griesel and Revil Baselga – Sound mix: Karen Zoid 20 jaar pops
Best Achievement in Arts Journalism
Best restaurant in Die Burgeroorlog [The Burger Wars]:
Best Production: Contemporary Music – Podium Production
Amanda Strydom: Stadig oor die klippers
Best performance: Contemporary Music – Open-air Production
Best Performance: Contemporary Music – Music-driven Production
Die poet, wie’s hy? CLASSICAL MUSIC
Best Performance: Classical Music – Vocal
Stellenbosch University Choir conducted by André van der Merwe
Best Performance: Classical Music – Instrumental
Miclen LaiPang (violin) for Beethoven’s “Kreutzer” sonata with the LGT Young Soloists
Best Supporting Actor (Male)
Stian Bam – Valsrivier
Best Supporting Actor (Female)
Anna-Mart van der Merwe – Valsrivier
Best Actor (Male)
Robert Hindley – Valsrivier
Best Actor (Female)
Nicole Holm – Tweespoor
Janice Honeyman – Valsrivier
THE BOOK PRIZE WINNERS IN FOUR CATEGORIES ARE:
Yusuf Daniels – Living Coloured (Because Black and White Were Already Taken)
Bestseller: Lifestyle Marinda Engelbrecht (Maklik met Marinda) and Herman Lensing (Dit proe soos huis)
Bestseller: Poetry Jeanne Goosen – Het jy geweet ek kan toor? Bestseller: Fiction Woordfeeskortverhaalbundel 2020: Aanhou beweeg en geraas maak (Selected by: Suzette Kotzé-Myburgh, Valda Jansen and Madri Victor)
Best Upcoming Artist
René Cloete – Huppelkind
Toyota Top Order
Karen Zoid: 20 jaar pops
This new prize will henceforth be awarded to an excellent musician or production that falls outside the traditional boundaries of contemporary music.
The award goes to Karen Zoid 20 jaar pops. It was not only the topselling show at the festival this year, but it also succeeded in blending contemporary and classical music seamlessly. This production inspired and entertained – a fitting celebration of her 20 years in the music industry.
Groundbreaking Production J. Bobs Live – Off the Record (Jefferson Tshabalala)
In Solidarity Prize (Distell) Amelda Brand
The In Solidarity Prize is awarded to roleplayers in the arts who tirelessly work, often for little or no compensation, towards greater social cohesion. Brand receives this recognition for her work with communities and students as well as her excellent professional work in the performing arts.
Die poet, wie’s hy? Given the extensive range of the festival programme, several panel members served on the Woordtrofees panel across the various genres. Panel members were invited to the panel on the basis of their expertise and experience across the genres. Given the scope of the programme, some panels were assigned convenors. These were: Haddad Viljoen (Drama), Heinrich van der Mescht (Classical Music) and Rafiek Mammon (Contemporary Music). The panels made recommendations to the oversight panel which was responsible for the categories Best Upcoming Artists(s) and Best Festival Production. Gillian Mitchell convened this panel which included Paul Boekkooi and Diane de Beer.
“Hidden Pretoria places the buildings of our capital city in the spotlight,” writes author Johan Swart, Lecturer and Curator Archive collections Department of Architecture, University of Pretoria.
The word Hidden in the title also suggests that much of what is showcased would not all be obvious to even Pretoria residents and for those visiting, would serve as an exciting guide to the many spectacular buildings in the city.
Even having worked in the city centre for most of my life, I was only vaguely familiar with a mosque right in the centre of the city which had through the years become hidden because of certain buildings that obscure it from the public eye.
But because of Swart’s architectural eye and non-Pretorian photographer Alain Proust’s specific and individualistic way of looking at and capturing buildings, the beauty or unusual features of even a familiar building emerge much more strongly.
“With the Hidden Pretoria project the publisher was looking to work with someone in the academic sphere. My focus area at the university is local (South African) architectural heritage which was a good fit with the project.
“ It also made sense for a Pretoria-based academic to take on this task, as a great amount of effort went into ‘location scouting’ and access arrangements for which I called in a number of favours within local architectural and conservation networks. I also have access to a number of archives and libraries that contain information about sites in Pretoria,” explained Swart.
He also had the difficult task of appeasing the highly critical academics among whom he finds himself, while ensuring that the book is accessible to a much wider audience at the same time. “I needed the book to be a responsible account of the architectural history of our city, something that could be prescribed to a student at our department, but also a book that these students would be able to lend to their family and friends as an enjoyable read.” And he certainly pulled that off.
It’s clear that he did extensive fieldwork before selecting buildings for inclusion in the book, and he says that only places that he had visited and where he saw (and felt) a deep quality of place were chosen.
The book serves as a reminder of what the city holds. “Architecturally, Pretoria’s buildings tell the story of a 19th Century republican outpost ignited by the politics of the British Empire, transformed through apartheid-era restructuring and evolving into a 21st century African metropolis,” writes Swart.
In the initial stages, the book posed many challenging questions. For example, which buildings are the most representative of Pretoria’s architectural legacy? What contribution can this publication make to the historical record? How can a broad audience be introduced to the city and its buildings?
His answers to these served a number of aims: Hidden Pretoria is both a momentary snapshot of spaces that might soon change or vanish, drawing attention to their incredible value and potential, and a photographic documentation of the city, structured and written as an architectural survey. Diverse hidden spaces are exposed, he explains, and ultimately the range of buildings captures the collective spatial identity of the city.
The theme dictated that the book be curated as a journey of discovery revealing a series of surprising spaces in a manner not accessible to the majority of readers. This is enhanced by Proust’s particular eye for a picture.
He has collaborated with Struik Lifestyle for decades, so he was the obvious choice for the Hidden series of which Pretoria is the third city following Johannesburg and Cape Town.
“But apart from that,” says Swart, “I also believe he is one of the best architectural photographers around, the style of his photographs are straightforward in terms of angles and perspective but incredibly good in terms of light, colour and focus etc.”
He was thrilled that Proust managed to get incredible quality and richness out of even the most elemental architectural moments. “He was at moments surprised with the quality of buildings and spaces in Pretoria and I believe the journey of discovery that we embarked on also enthused him to capture the best of Pretoria for a wider South African audience.”
Many of the spaces lie just beyond the surface of known facades, notes Swart. “Historical buildings such as the Palace of Justice and Old Standard Bank are well-known neoclassical edifices in full public view that hide beautifully articulated interior volumes.”
Specifically to capture the intent of the book, the cover picture captures exactly that ethos. It is the most dramatic example of a hidden treasure behind a relatively nondescript facade right in the heart of the city.
The author also explains that some buildings are not only architecturally important but also worth exploring for the hidden objects. The works of artists like Alexis Preller and Walter Battiss, for example, remain locked in the abandoned TPA Building and like the mosque, some buildings are hidden because of their urban context.
For city dwellers themselves, some of the facades have disappeared simply because of familiarity and the interiors are quite breath-taking, yet we walk past them sometimes on a daily basis never having ventured inside.
One of Swart’s aims was to inspire a general awareness and appreciation of the architectural heritage of the city. All the selected buildings are of heritage value and their relevance in the present, can be measured according to a number of themes.
As an architect who works in academia himself, he argues most succinctly and with each building or site also details many facts that would be unknown to those of us who simply see an interesting or historical building – some which we might even in these past decades have turned our backs on.
He points out, for example, that the Dutch Reformed churches at Universiteitsoord and Burgerspark are of particular architectural and historical interest because they’re illustrative of the Regionalist and Brutalist design approaches that prevailed in the 1960s. Both the Voortrekker Monument and Freedom Park have value as spaces of reflection and debate as they present as reference points for dialogue about identity and memory.
Those who know and visit Marabastad for some extraordinary shopping and food or drive past on their way to the city centre, would have noticed the extraordinary Mariamman Temple, a place of gathering and an anchor point for the identity of its faith community, says Swart, as he goes on to point out many more features of Pretoria’s unique architecture.
Some would argue about the choices, and others might miss some of their favourites, but no one could be critical about the way the city is showcased from both a public and private point of view.
I loved the few private homes chosen; the fact that the home and work space one of our best artists, Angus Taylor, is featured. Or that House Jooste (Pretorians will know it as Brasserie de Paris) is featured as a homage to Le Corbusier as well as for locals who have a taste for French cuisine and Brutalist architecture. And then there’s Ora Joubert’s Ivy Villa Studio which makes a specific architectural statement, which was also its intent. She has been critical of the mediocrity of design in too many of our suburbs and has taken great pleasure in breaking that mould.
Whichever way you want to use or look at this book – whether a resident of the city or a visitor – it has been beautifully crafted from the selection of buildings and places to show. Extraordinary photographs and informed research guide the traveller, and finally, all come together to present something which is much more than a coffee table book.
And a final word from the author: “Even as a Pretorian who knows the city rather well, I was once again surprised with the intriguing and beautiful places that are to be found in and around the city. It takes a good amount of effort to discover and explore our cities but the personal reward makes it worthwhile.
Polley’s Arcade was named after Polley’s Hotel which stood on the site previously. The sweeping staircase is one of the city’s hidden treasures cherished especially among Pretoria’s architectural community. The intricate floor was built with off-cuts from a stonemason’s yard, which architect, Norman Eaton, used to create an ever-changing woven texture that reflected his interest in African patterns and surfaces.
Burlington Arcade is lined with small shops and the original shopfronts supplied by Frederick Sage & Co are still in place.
“ I have a much more comprehensive and embodied understanding of our city after completing this project. It is also remarkable once we start understanding the incredible financial, architectural and social investment that was spent in the making of these special buildings, Pretoria really does have a ‘grand’ architectural legacy to take pride in and be inspired by.
“Another surprise is how wide the spectrum is along which the condition (state of conservation) of buildings can be placed, a surprising amount of heritage buildings in the city really is in almost pristine condition, where other sites are in complete and indefensible decay, perhaps this reflects something of the schizophrenic nature of South African society in general.”
Hopefully Hidden Pretoria will highlight the neglect of some of our hidden treasures, remind citizens of their architectural riches and enlighten visitors who might think the city only offers the Union Building with the monumental Mandela statue and the Voortrekker Monument. There is that but also so much more.
Books are a uniquely portable magic.
― Stephen King, On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft
It’s a strange time when being at home alone (with family or perhaps a friend) can become quite demanding, but if you are privileged enough to have the luxury of viewing it as a time to take stock, catch up and get to all those things you love doing but never have time for, this will also be a time to read, read and read as much as you can. It is the perfect escape. This is the start of some suggestions by DIANE DE BEER in random fashion and as eclectic as reading can be for each individual. Hope you find some inspiration:
You have to know when tackling a Patti Smith book titled Year of the Monkey (Bloomsbury) to expect the unexpected.
Nothing about her life will be ordinary or familiar and a willingness to follow her on whatever journey she takes is a prerequisite to starting this equally melancholy and madcap journal.
Someone mentions that anything is possible, after all it is the Year of the Monkey, hence the title of the book which should be another loadstar to where these Smith meanderings might lead you.
It’s been a year of coping both with ageing (her 70th birthday looms) and dying, when her friend the producer, rock critic and manager Sandy Pearlman is hospitalised and yet another close friend and former partner, playwright Sam Shepard, is also deadly ill and needs her help to finish what will be his last book. (If you haven’t read her obituary of Shepard, it’s worth finding online.)
But first things first. Apart from these close encounters with friends and her own mortality, it’s also a helter-skelter time politically with elections in the air (and we all know how that ended) as well as Smith’s tendency to intertwine her different realities. You’d better be on your toes to keep track of her eclectic mind. Some might be fatalistic given her circumstances but others are quite fantastical as she starts communicating with an inviting hotel sign with the name Dream Inn.
She doesn’t have everyday conversations and even loses a ride when she can’t stop talking even when warned she could only tag along if she didn’t say a word.
Whether you know and like her music or not, your enjoyment of the book depends on whether you fall in love with her eclectic lifestyle, her unusual way of making her way through life and perhaps, the age she’s at, which determines this somewhat fatalistic mood.
Along the way, she always has her camera on hand taking artistic shots of seemingly mundane features like an unmade bed in a nondescript hotel room, a writer’s shoes, a café in Lisbon and anything that catches her fancy or captures her mood.
This is not any ordinary diary but someone musing about a time in her life that finds her at particular crossroads because of circumstances beyond her control. We all know that place, but for someone with Smith’s particular capabilities, it takes what might be for many quite strange detours. It’s as if she allows the universe to dictate, as if finding it difficult to determine her own pathway right at this time.
We all know that feeling of drifting but few would actually take on the physical reality as well. Perhaps the end of a run of New Year concerts helped her along. Spent as she must have been, a time to unwind and throwing herself to the wind might make sense of a world that feels as if it is turning on her. The election of Trump also having some impact here. It is Patti Smith after all, how could it not!
If all this sounds dire because of the loneliness and a certain desolation, it is also a novel way of capturing your own feelings – especially in this time, making sense of a world that seems out of control and lending insight to others who might experience similar feelings without knowing how to get a different grip on life.
And in our present circumstances, this might be the escape some of us have been looking for. It is a writer who uses her imagination to inhabit a world she doesn’t understand – or even want to.
For Bowie, one suspects, had he still been living, he would have dipped into one of the many books he loved, far beyond the 100 listed in Bowie’s Books: The Hundred Literary Heroes who Changed His Life by John O’Connel (with illustrations by Luis Paadin) published by Bloomsbury.
It’s a fascinating read, which tells you much more about Bowie while explaining the books. In the introduction that explains the writing of the book, O’Connel quotes a Sunday Times location report: “Bowie hates aircraft so he mostly travels across the States by train, carrying his mobile bibliothèque in special trunks which open out with all his books neatly displayed on shelves.”
This portable library sported 1 500 titles, more than enough so that he would never run out.
From March 2013, the Victoria and Albert Museum’s exhibition David Bowie Is travelled the world for the next 5 years. To coincide with the show’s first port of call, Ontario, the V&A issued the list on which this book is based, explains the author. It is the 100 books Bowie considered the most important and influential – not, note, his “Favourite books” as such – out of the 1 000s he had read during his life.
Bowie had through his life advertised his bookishness, according to O’Connel, not through interviews “but more obliquely in his work and in the range of masks he wore when he presented it to the public”.
We learn, for example, that he didn’t do well at school – not through laziness it is surmised, or an inability to retain information, but rather, speculates the author, an impatience with formal education. He enjoyed teaching himself much rather than being taught by someone else.
He loved passing on the knowledge and passionately argued for a book he enjoyed to the extent that he started reviewing books for Barnes and Noble (book stores in the US).
One could also see the influence of different arts and genres in his work, in his songs, his presentations, even his album covers. That’s what makes this such a fascinating read for those who aren’t that familiar with his work
Bowie also liked playing games, says the author – hence the lists. “The V&A list is but one element of a game he enjoyed more than any other – curating his own mythology”.
One of the most incisive quotes in the introduction is something he said to Michael Parkinson during an interview: “I spent an awful lot of my life …actually looking for myself, understanding what I existed for and what made me happy in life and who exactly I was and what were the parts of myself that I was trying to hide from.”
O’Connel emphasises that the role reading played in this quest cannot be underestimated.
It’s an extraordinary book and one that constantly surprises. The secret is in the way it has been written. With a 100 books to run through, O’Connel rarely gives more than two pages to a book in which he explains the author, who he is and what the book is about.
There’s also the significance to Bowie, a context in some way as well as insight not only into the book but also into Bowie himself.
It’s not necessarily one of those books about books that send you rushing off to read most of them. More importantly, it is about the man who read them and why he found them so significant.
With her recent visit to the Prue Leith Culinary Institute in Centurion, mainly to celebrate their success as well as her 80th birthday, it’s her youthfulness that bowls you over. DIANE DE BEER finds out more about her unstoppable drive:
It’s Prue Leith’s constant refrain when talking about yet another venture, “I’m a commercial woman”, and how fast she runs her life, that keeps her young. The energy obviously rubs off, that and her exuberance, her dazzling embrace of bright colours, and partner John Playfair who never stops the banter, but also gives a helping hand when she moves around the room for book signings.
That’s just who she is. Instead of asking everyone to stand in line, she moves around the room to do the necessary with John in tow for selfies and anything else she might need, the perfect team.
In town for amongst other her birthday celebrations (she wanted to do some of that in Cape Town as well), she admits that she isn’t that happy that everyone knows her age. But when she opened her restaurant in London at the age of 29, she was loud and proud about the achievement.
Ever practical, Prue isn’t too fussed and chats happily about her many endeavours, of which her return to the food world precipitated much of what is bubbling in her booming business sphere.
At the time of her first association with the food world, the British food establishment was in the clutches of Escoffier (but not in the right way, according to Prue), it had become stifled, always sticking to the rules and not taking heed of the great French master’s advice that one had to move with the times. “It was all about following the rules and if it wasn’t Escoffier, it wasn’t cuisine,” she says.
“You would find all the same items on the menus across London,” she says. When she left, she started campaigning in the food world for good school lunches, for example, and another successful launch was her fiction writing, which resulted in a clutch of novels and a revealing memoir. And she’s still writing because it is something she loves.
After a break of 25 years, she was lured back into the food world as a judge on The Great British Menu and discovered a brave new world. “It was so different with the chefs all turning to flavours from the Middle East, for example,” and she found herself stealing their recipes.
Suddenly chefs were regarded as the great artists they had become and were taken more seriously. All of this appealed to Prue as after 11 years she was lured to The Great British Bake-Off, replacing Mary Berry when the show moved to Channel 4 in March 2017
Not only is it one of the most watched shows on British TV, it also has a huge younger demographic. “The children are all watching,” she says, which has brought her new-found fame in the food world. “I was absent for so long and suddenly there are new generations discovering me.”
She’s excited about this younger generation who probably all start off baking cupcakes but even if baking is what gets them started, they will follow with cooking meals. She recently participated in the first Junior Bake-Off series with the children ranging in age from 9 to 15 years. “I thought it was unfair, that the younger participants would be at a disadvantage, but it wasn’t the case,” she says.
What she discovered during her conversations with the youngsters is that most of them learnt to bake and cook on Youtube. To her it doesn’t matter how it happens. “The more children bake, the more will cook,” she believes.
Even a stop at a petrol station means endless selfie moments says John. But what really excited Prue with her re-entry into the food world was the opening up of new vistas. She published a new recipe book after a long absence and was urged by her publishers to start with an introductory book covering all her favourite recipes, rather than launching into a specific genre.
She followed this with The Vegetarian Kitchen together with her niece, pastry chef and vegetarian Peta Leith. “I have wanted to do this for ages but 25 years ago, my publishers advised that a similar title would not sell,” she says. Even though she is not a vegetarian herself, she has always been partial to vegetables and had a full vegetarian menu alongside the main menu in her Michelin-starred restaurant.
These days, she often opts for vegetables but isn’t preachy about it.
A totally new venture and one she’s eager to promote is her collaboration with eye wear specialists Ronit Fürst. She was quick to make a note of the many people that asked her about the brightly coloured specs she was wearing on Bake-Off.
They were hand painted and expensive but her timing was right when she approached the company to come up with a bright yet more affordable series which is now also available in South Africa. She advises that one simply googles Prue Leith glasses. I did and found a few optometrists in Joburg but with the range available locally, you optometrist should be able to get hold of the distributors. When you see the range, you will want them.
Prue’s advice: “Shoes and handbags spend most of their time under the table. Across a table, people are looking at your face – hence the glasses.” Always the sensible woman.
And then to a matter of the heart. It took Prue a while before she became involved with a cookery school but from the start, she was hands-on with the Prue Leith College of Food (1997) named Prue Leith Chefs Academy (10 years later) and now another decade on, Prue Leith Culinary Institute. She visited sometimes twice a year and was always aware of what was happening and where she could offer advice.
These days with the classy Adele Stiehler-van der Westhuizen as Managing Director and a brilliant female-dominated team of super chefs, Prue hardly has to do more than admire – and she’s smiling.
“I am so proud,” she says and as the trooper she is, she returns enthusiastically to yet another of the many functions hosted on this celebratory visit.