CAST: Katlego Nche (Pinocchio); Gina Shmukler (Bella Bouboulina – the Blue Fairy); Sandi Dlangalala (Jiminy Cricket (Gepetto Spoletto); Lesedi Rich (Lampwick Spaghetti); Brenda Radloff (Madame Ill’Fortunato – The Fox; Camilla Waldman (Madame Pussy Galore – The Fat-Cat); Tiaan Rautenbach (Dame Arletti Spaghetti ); Mark Richardson (Senor Napolio Strombolio – (Puppeteer/Gambvling Lord/Donkey Pirate); Luciano Zuppa (Fiddelomino – Traindriver/Donkeydealer); Noluthando Mathebula (Dainty Dolly – a puppet); Dale Ray (Benny Basie Blue MD);and the ensemble of 15 performers
DATES: Until December 24
A colourful explosion.
Oh Janice! Why am I not surprised? This your 38th outing … I think? And you’re still pulling it off? There’s simply no end to your genius, is there?
I know you can do many other shows as well and you have the CV to prove that. But Gauteng audiences simply refuse to let you go.
Not only do you pull it off year after year, you also have the perfect team, led by Timothy le Roux, assistant director, who has introduced his own stage charm to the proceedings as well as holding on to all that panto knowledge you have imparted since those very early years.
Doesn’t matter when you go … as we did on a Sunday at noon. You simply pack them in … young and old, it doesn’t matter, they all love it. And I was sitting in the perfect chair to catch the show as well as the audience. They’re having so much fun it’s almost a show on its own.
The colours capture the emotions of the panto.
And there’s a reason for that. You have honed your skills through the years. You never sat back thinking you’ve made it. With each outing you set the bar higher.
You know how to cast, both the veterans and the fresh young things. They’re all rehearsed to an inch of their lives, yet there’s nothing mechanical. They, it seems, are having as much fun as the audience. Even on a day when they will be back in 90 minutes for a second show, it’s all systems go go go.
Let’s start with the costumes! Those colours simply smash it! It’s bright and cheery with a strong Italian flavour of green, red and white running through, but that’s augmented by the brightest brights so that every one on that stage is shining as bright as can be. It’s as happy as well as hip, which immediately sets the tone and the flavour of what’s to come.
A cast of colourful characters.
There’s the cheery Pinocchio (Katlego Nche) and his perky puppet friend (Noluthando Mathebula), Jiminy Cricket (Sandi Dlangalala) with the exquisite voice, the two foxy madames (Brenda Radloff and Camilla Waldman), so deliciously delightful, old hands Mark Richardson and Luciano Zuppa who skate through a cast of characters with ease, as well as another wise and wittty veteran Tiaan Rautenbach who knows how to dazzle as Dame Arletti Spaghetti – and how could you not with a name like that! There’s also Gina Shmukler’s sassy Bella Bouboulina, the Blue Fairy, and a supporting cast who bounce with the exuberant energy that keeps the audience on their toes.
Through the years the magic tricks as well as the sparkle and splendour have doubled in size and grandeur and expanded with advances in technology, but what Janice has done so magnificently is hold onto the spirit of the traditional panto.
Every year she enhances what could have become tired tropes. She adds all the necessary and unexpected dazzle, but her brilliance lies in her holding tightly onto the heart.
Photographers: Jeremeo Le Cordeur; Llewelyn de Wet and Gys Loubser
The Stellenbosch Woordfees can be quite a daunting prospect because there is so much on offer. It is perhaps easier if you have specific artistic passions, as most of them will be on offer here and it is possible to make a selection. DIANE DE BEER spotlights what caught her fancy
There’s not even a chance that you can include all your darlings in a festival wrap or even try to see them all.
I did my best, was constantly on the move and writing, and still I hear of more productions you just had to see.
Personal favourites (don’t discount others because I probably didn’t see them):
My best theatre productions were stories that turned me into an emotional wreck but did so with authenticity (I know this is a woke word, but …).
Tinarie van Wyk-Loots and Kristen Raath (left) and Jefferson J Dirks-Korkee(right) in
Dianne du Toit Albertze’s Huis van Sand.Pictured by Jeremeo Le Cordeur
The winning text of the prestigious Reinet Nagtegaal prize, Dianne du Toit Albertze’s Huis van Sand, with her honest portrayal of a dysfunctional family that’s probably not even part of most audiences’ consciousness. She writes about what she knows and where she comes from, the Northern Cape. But she does this in her self-made tongue, which shoots right to the heart and guts of the matter, no pussyfooting around with this one.
It is not a place many of the traditional Woordfees audiences will know. The backdrop is the N7, a route that runs from one end of the country to the other. It is her little spot next to the highway that Sandy knows. She and her daughter share Rodney’s caravan and too much of his life, especially the dark side. They’re trapped and yet the lifestyle is passed on from one generation to the next with the whole family fully engaged. A seemingly never-ending devastating cycle.
What drives Huis van Sand are Albertze’s words, her imagination, and the way she plays wildly with your head and emotions. Throw into the mix director Wolfie Britz’s strong casting and determined direction. With the remarkable Tinarie van Wyk-Loots launching herself body and soul into this one, Sandy’s daughter (Kristen Raath) trying to duck the missiles and resist diving headfirst into the temptations, Jefferson J Dirks-Korkee’s chilly capture of the toxic male scent always hovering menacingly and René Cloete showing she is much more than just an innocent bystander, everything about this production hits you like an onslaught.
Yet this is one you want to struggle and engage with because of the sharp edges and the unblinking gaze at the harsh reality of so many lives. It’s heartwrenching, but that is something this playwright has never turned away from. She stares straight into the skewered glare of too many unseen lives and throws us all in at the deep end. The brilliance is well worth the battle.
Melissa de Vries as Nadia and Angelo Bergh as her friend Zavie
Walking the same tightrope, is the adaptation by Jolyn Phillips of Ronelda Kampher’s ravaging novel starring two vulnerable yet resilient teen cousins who try their best to navigate a world they don’t understand while instinctively understanding that they are their only protection.
For Nadia (Melissa de Vries) and her chum Zavie (Angelo Bergh) their bond while tenuous and often fragile is what keeps them breathing.
With this one it is again the magnificence of the performances and the staging by Lee-Ann van Rooi that holds the attention as these two baby-adults going about their lives as if it is normal – and for them it is, it’s all they know.
That’s precisely the point. This is their normal, their life and the one Kampher’s words in her searing novel lay bare. Their whole existence is determined by outside factors, never certain or expected. Yet they do know how to grab the small slices of life when given the chance which isn’t often. They should not even be aware of the things happening in their lives, yet that’s the only way they know how to roll.
Kampher’s language is brilliantly captured by Phillips’ adaptation. How she even knew where to start! It’s such a complex and almost crippling story about these children whose future is determined purely by the happenstance of their birth.
Both of them have bucketsful of gifts which will never be realized because there’s simply no support or networks for these drifting families where not one generation manages to get even a foothold on a real life.
If anything good happens in their lives, it is luck and often, at that particular moment, the recipient doesn’t know how to deal with it.
When reading Kampher’s book the first time, you’re in awe of the writing and the storytelling. It’s the way she focused on the stories never told, the way she draws the characters, gives them flesh and emotions, which in this instance are perfectly re-created by the choices of Van Rooi and the adaptation by Phillips.
What a beautiful acting team. I don’t know them, don’t watch television if that’s where they perform, but I do know that they have inhabited these two kids with so much energy and guts, it’s hard to resist.
And that’s the joy of festivals, the opportunities that arise for artists so that when the stars align (a good script, director and actors), nothing can hold them back.
All of these performances should and will hopefully travel. For far too long too many voices have been silenced. We are so much richer as a country, as audiences and as performers when all our stories are shared.
Albert Pretorius (actor) and Schalk Joubert (guitarist) in Ek is nie Danie pictured by Llwellyn de Wet and Gys Loubser.
What four middle-aged men did with what they had, was inspirational. They took something which if not handled with the same delicacy as the poetry, could have been disastrous. But because of deft hands and hearts, it feels as though you are dealing with an emotional vortex, but one driven with artistic insight and instinct which holds the audience tightly and sharply in focus from start to finish.
It worked because of the truly exquisite writing and then the choice of the right participants. The concept was Niel van Deventer’s according to the programme, but then handed to one of our smartest directors, Nico Scheepers. He is given a topic which would turn most people away – the angst and anxiety of ageing white men, not a species that many have much sympathy for.
Yet this company with actor Albert Pretorius and musical director/guitarist Schalk Joubert has shown that, given the right elements, a director who knows how to shape something yet value his actor and musician by allowing them the freedom to be and to do, it will work – and in this instance, explosively.
It’s one of those performances that you want to see again as soon as you leave the theatre. I hope it travels the country.
I took these three stunning plays to give some flavour to the Woordfees which is far too dense and diverse to dilute, but that there’s something for everyone, that’s a certainty and you won’t have to look too far or hard.
They have achieved much in only a short time and in the future with everything changing so rapidly, we can only expect to experience even more.
And then just a small PS: I was asked to interview Nataniël on a book Bloei+Blom and being who he is, the first lunch was booked out swiftly and another date the next day was included and again fully booked. But hey, the more the merrier.
As an interviewer, this is the one date I don’t have nerves. I know I am in safe hands and he is the master of chat.
It was the easiest gig in town. Even though he and I had talked about topics of conversation before the time, once on a roll, and only three questions down, I could sit back, relax and enjoy one of our best (and naturally funniest) conversationalists in action.
There was no way to ask anything else. He was in full flight on his own. He did glance my way once or twice, but there was no interrupting the flow. And even better, he was the one they wanted to see and hear.
I felt blessed, centre stage and could watch the wizard in full flights of fantasy.
*There were many others I loved, many of which I had written on at the Woordfees or previously including Boklied, Seun, Bridling, Kuns, Magda en haar Erhard, Ont-, and always The Ugly Noo Noo …
Like most things in life there are good and bad to small packages, but Aardklop CEO Alexa Strachan has turned her shiny Potchefstroom gem into a star through clever planning, a balancing act of note and enough variety to have everyone laughing and crying – with good food all over the place to boot. DIANE DE BEER speaks her mind:
My husband knows I’m a festival junkie (while he is NOT) but it is a personal indulgence and one that clearly nourishes.
This year was no different. Taking only a handful of my best, it’s not a difficult case to make.
Running down the alphabet as the festival guide does, it’s the overwhelming laughter that blew me away. I’m not a comedy girl so I didn’t know who Alfred Adriaan was but I screamed with laughter from start to finish and he was obviously a festival favourite in the packed auditorium.
With the name of Magda Louw (Desiré Gardner), one would think that I would remember that this is one of my favourite characters, but again, because of the comedy aversion, it just never surfaces. And yet, from the minute she walks on stage in her latest production, Magda Louw en haar Erhard, how Louw can you go?, this time with her husband Erhard (a delightfully Sad Sack performance by Hannes van Wyk), they just bowl you over.
What makes Magda so delightful to embrace is that she doesn’t go on the clichéd South African rant of potholes and politics, she has much more exciting things to deal with like the man constantly shuffling behind her as she leads the way at a faster pace and with much more rhythm, but the two ageing souls give you hope for the future as you realise that life is just a bowl of bubbles if you attack it in the right way.
On the other side of the spectrum there’s the magnificent solo debut by the extraordinary Wilhelm van der Walt, who unassumingly takes the stage and then reaching into a far too familiar past, given new perspective.
There was a time when I could hardly stomach another troepie tirade because it was so dominating in the country that it constantly surfaced on stage. What I realized this time round, is that Van der Walt himself probably never participated in this deadly exercise for so many decades part of our lives and there were certainly many young audiences who needs this insight on our past.
And if it is done with such magnificence, the flashbacks are worth recalling even if the past could be wished away.
How can anyone not be thrilled to experience Antoinette Kellermann and Dawid Minnaar on stage and in this instance in Breyten Breytenbach’s last play, Verwelkingslied, before he died. Although he dedicated the piece to Antoinette Kellermann and Marthinus Basson, she performed with her long-time stage partner Minnaar with Mari Borstlap as director on a set which was reminiscent of some of their earlier work together.
Minnaar is an eerily similar version of the poet in voice and image and immediately you can lose yourself in the meanderings of this philosophical and always poetic (almost) memoir. As the two actors take turns in monologue yet sharing Breytenbach’s feelings on death, one drifts away in the words so magnetic and the voice so penetrating, almost in dreamlike state, the actors and the audience.
The simplicity of the presentation is apt as it holds the depth and strength of the text so delicately. This is where we need the words to wash over us as an audience in almost immersive fashion.
I know that Amanda Strydom first mesmerized me with The Incredible Journey of Tinkerbell van Tonder and was eager to experience the performance all these decades later. Not that I can remember the detail, but with age of both text and performer, it’s as if everything has just found a warmer and gentler place to settle and lay her head down.
Finding your place in the world is a never-ending search and when you are fighting for freedom it is almost impossible – yet not when you’re Nelia Petersen who was handed the struggle together with mother’s milk.
It’s rigorous and robust with Strydom tackling the text and music with equal energy and exuberance. And all these years later, if anything, it is even more brittle and brilliant than before. I could watch this performance any day.
Belofte van Vere was our first production and yet another Breytenbach tribute but, once I witnessed the full cast on stage, they had my full attention. With the musically adventurous Laurinda Hofmeyr on piano, a rare singing appearance from the jazz-infused Ilse Klink, the genius muso Leon Gropp (guitar and voice), the soulful David Klassen (drums), a rhythmic Concord Nkabinde (bass) with the velvet voices of Rolanda Marais and Eben Genis, I knew I would be transformed. And I was.
Performers Eben Genis and Rolanda Marais
This exciting, gifted collection of artists would know how to do Breyten Breytenbach, without frills and fancy tricks, just delivering on their accomplishments and Breyten’s poetry and words. Anything else to my mind would have been unwarranted.
It’s my kind of show with my kind of people and poems. I needed nothing more. For me this was a Breytenbach celebration and I’m certain he would have been honoured.
Combining two dance companies, Cape Town’s magnificent Figure of 8 Dance Theatre who also performed their haunting tribute (Die Een Wat Bly) to the relationship between mothers and sons, the more expansive Wings of Light: Dance of an Angel returned dance to Aardklop in spectacular fashion. The music composed by Mauritz Lotz set the tone for an exquisite performance which showcased both classical and contemporary dance, the perfect rendition for an audience who might not often have the chance to see this kind of performance. It was a rare feat to stage this production and hopefully paved the way for similar ventures in the future.
Festivals have to walk a tightrope of not playing it too safe yet not antagonising their core audiences. With the large auditorium thé venue for one of our best comedians as well as two of the most exciting dance companies in the country, they managed just that.
There was also time to slip into the art venues, always something to cherish, and this time it was the festival Artist Jaco van Schalkwyk as well as a challenging group exhibition Vice Versa curated by artist Gwynneth Miller, all of which got the mind racing on a variety of contemporary issues. The renovated campus art museum also featured an exciting range of Nataniël pictures captured by his longest serving photographer Clinton Lubbhe
As an extra fillip, there was the celebratory concert of Nataniël and Charl du Plessis’s 25-year collaboration on stage. And as I had witnessed their initial first performances together, this was quite emotional.
To watch two stratospheric artists develop, dissect and model their artistry as they grow and stretch in different ways is unexpected and artistically adventurous.
There’s Du Plessis’s breathtaking exuberance and excellence on piano, the way he shifts between genres and his approach to his longtime stage companion. Nataniël again exhibits his stagecraft, flips easily from text to music, his stories hilariously funny with a hint of melancholy, or on the musical side, surprising everyone with his superb classical training which he hardly ever shares. They are an unbeatable combination with so many years of performance between them.
Aardklop features youth theatre with their Pronk Podium product, which this year invited its most successful writer/director/producer to present his latest work Doolhof together with the NWU Kampustoneel winner Diereryk directed and written by Pierre-André Viviers, cleverly based on Animal Far.
Every year I am thrilled and struck by the quality of the productions and everyone’s artistry involved. For future artists, this is unequalled training ground and for audiences the ideal opportunity to see how young artists tell their stories and what to expect in the future.
At future festivals, remember to watch out for this special section.
I could go on and on, I even made a turn at the market, something I never do, but I wanted to surprise my favourites at home with some specialty snacks.
As always it was a festival with feisty and fabulous fare on every level.
And the winners for the annual Aardklop festival awards are:
Best Actress: Elzabé Zietsman for Routrip
Best Actor: Wilhelm van der Walt for Seun
Best Director: Nico Scheepers for Seun
Best Overall Production: Seun
Award for most innovative work: The Scullery Quintet: Stir-fried Sonatas
Visual Art: Best Exhibition: Corpus Naturae, Jaco van Schalkwyk
Best Music-driven Production: Amanda Strydom: The incredible journey of Tinkerbell van Tonder
Best Classical Music performance: Road Trip Rhythms
Best Musical-driven performance: The Scullery Quintet
Hartsvriende Beste Produksie: Seun
Best new Afrikaans Script: Nataniël for NATANIËL + CHARL = 25
Best Production: Drama: Seun
Knockout Award: Alfred Adriaan: Positive Strokes
Extra Mile: Riaan Rademan (Technical project manager for Blond Productions)
A walkabout of the newly installed exhibition 2020 Through the Eye of a Needle: Remembering the Covid-19 Pandemic in 2025 curated by Julia Charlton, senior curator at WAM (Wits Art Museum), reminded everyone who was present how quickly we move on from events that change the world dramatically. DIANE DE BEER gives her impression of the way women rule the charity world:
As Professor Brenda Schmahmann — South African art historian and current South African Research Chair in South African Art and Visual Culture (SARChI) at the University of Johannesburg’s Faculty of Art, Design and Architecture (FADA) — was in conversation with Julia, I was again reminded of women and the way they participate in the world where people are negatively impacted simply because of their circumstances, not because of anything they did wrong.
Living in Africa has many advantages, and for me, one of them is the constant reminder of how the real world functions. Privilege is usually something that is bestowed on you at birth and in a sense with the roll of the universal dice, it could just as well have been the other way.
But listening to these women as they share reflections and insights into the embroideries on exhibition, created by members of the Mapula Embroidery Project, a community art collective of women embroiderers based in the Winterveld and Hammanskraal, I again witnessed the part three women played and in the process changing the lives of many families in the Winterveld.
It’s as though the time since Covid passed in a flash, but this year marks five years since the World Health Organisation declared Covid-19 a global pandemic.
We all know how the disease has devastated the whole world. There was the astronomical loss of life, terrible emotional strain, extreme social disruption and economic devastation. We were also reminded of the impact of so many things in personal lives: first year students who in the end never had the opportunity to experience campus life and live lectures; exacerbating the horror of the high number of deaths, no one could attend funerals which had to happen in isolation; and following that time, we’ve simply had to get on with recapturing some of the life we had lost.
This exhibition on the five year anniversary offers an opportunity to reflect on that time by considering an interactive exhibition of embroidered textiles dealing with Covid-19 and its impact on a community. Without the Mapula project, it would have been an even worse catastrophe for this community and other groups also part of the Mapula family.
When engaging with the exhibition it is clear that the women use these hangings to depict their own lives. One of the first things you notice in the Covid panels for example, are the people featured all wearing masks, a vivid reminder of a time we had to isolate from others.
The hangings also serve as an historical document of a specific time. Whether it is the floods in Mozambique, the pandemic or even the tsunami in different parts of the world, these events are first captured by different artists in the group and then the individual women get sewing to create these artworks, hence the title Through the eye of the needle.
Other themes that pop up are food parcels during the pandemic, which were made up out of samp, rice and sugar, the absolute basics. Many of the cloths are also inspirational, not depicting what their lives are, but what they would like them to be.
What would we be as human beings without dreaming? “There’s always a focus on positive things,” noted Brenda
Janetje, who is involved with the embroiderers on almost a daily basis, explaining the logistics of keeping this group going. Because distances are sometimes huge due to the past, it takes planning and organizing to purchase the raw materials, get them delivered and establish pathways amongst the women to make it all work and come together.
In today’s hectic lives with family demands another obstacle, many women would have thrown their hands up in the air.
But these three are amazing examples of how women often work tirelessly to improve the lives of people who, but for the grace, might have been any of us.
Go and remind yourself in the coming months. Entrance is free and no booking is required.
It’s an enriching experience which the whole family can witness and enjoy. And along the way, a few lessons are imparted with quite a few fun interactive features, which will get everyone participating.
Museum hours: Tuesday – Saturday 10am to 4pm with the exhibition on until 13 September 2025.Physical address University Corner, Corner Bertha (extension of Jan Smuts Avenue) and Jorissen Streets, Braamfontein, Johannesburg. 011 717 1365 (Week-days) and 011 717 3158 (Weekends) E-mail: info.wam@wits.ac.za
Nataniël is on the go – again – and it was time for DIANE DE BEER to pop in and find out more about upcoming shows, events and anything else happening in this prolific artist’s life:
What is keeping him up at night and awake at the crack of dawn is the work on his latest podcast series, which has become yet another of his performance features since his first series a while back. Kwessie van die Dag, his brand-new video column, starts on August 4 on Netwerk24.
As with anything he does, Nataniël approaches these latest podcasts with everything he’s got. “It’s as much work as a TV series,” he notes. And for this perfectionist, it is. He simply cannot do things haphazardly, with quality a constant taskmaster.
He is aware that everybody has turned to podcasts and his will be the best. This isn’t boasting because he is genius when it comes to storytelling. There’s no competing with this conversationalist.
It is all about the words which he has to learn by heart – 3 000 a week! They are his words, he has written each one, but then he has to get them tripping off the tongue. While it comes easily, he believes in scripts and knows exactly what he has to do and how he wants it to sound. So while there are many copycats, few can master him at his craft.
I often see pieces written by “Nataniël”, but it’s easy to spot when someone tries to capture his style because it is so unique. And this is where his podcast will pass with flying colours. “I don’t like waffling,” he says as he launches an attack on what he has labelled “electronic pollution”!
“There’s enough rubbish around.” He has an opinion which his followers will be familiar with, but he also loves facts when he is dealing in a specific subject. One of the many hurdles is the battle of language. He will be speaking in Afrikaans and to capture a language in this way is fraught with many pitfalls especially the way we mix our languages in our daily conversations.
It is clear that this is his latest challenge but also part of the excitement that charges his existence.
He is always busy creating and many of the things might seem as though they have a familiar pattern which, if you study them, they don’t. Into that mix, he is also constantly injecting new accomplishments which keep him on his toes.
“Everyone invites me to be a guest on their podcasts.” But for him there is a specific reason to engage with people in this fashion. “I want to address issues and for me it is about inspiration.”
BOEK • BYBEL • BIOSKOOP is the title of the show he is doing with organist Zorada Termmingh, a friend from varsity, together with his accompanist, pianist Charl du Plessis. Knowing something about his creative mind, he will be pulling all their respective talents together in a spectacular bouquet.
We’re in August and it is all about women. Composers, writers, singers, designers, as well as timeless characters from movies, classic literature, Biblical tales, art and theatre are their inspiration in this colourful show full of stories and songs. Zorada and Nataniël have performed on stage many times, starting during their student years. Charl has been his accompanist (apart from establishing his own career as a solo artist and performing with the Charl du Plessis Trio) for the past 25 years. And this is not the first outing for this trio of consummate performers.
It is a one-off in the capital city on August 13 at 7pm and the Ned Geref Universiteitsoord Kerk. The show is 90 minutes (more or less) long.
In September he returns to one of his most ambitious projects, Mass for the Good Princes (recently released on CD), which will be performed in the Cape for the first time thanks to the goodwill of the Atterbury Trust.
It’s a double whammy for Nataniël – one of both joy and hysteria. This was one of those accomplishments he had dreamt of for a very long time. Writing it was an almost impossible feat with his kind of schedule, and with each performance he has to once again memorise the Latin text, which is a killer.
This will be the 3rd time that he attempts this daunting exercise and while it stretches even his seemingly limitless determination, he can’t resist it. It is based on the classical structure of a Latin church mass with a sacred composition by Nataniël in six parts which includes a prayer for goodness, new leadership and the hope of a new generation. It will be sung in English and Latin with descriptions and translations in Afrikaans.
It will be presented at the Ned Geref Welgemoed Church on Saturday September 20 at 5pm. He will be joined by the Charl du Plessis Trio (Charl with Werner Spies and Peter Auret) as well as organist Ockie Vermeulen, guitarist Luke van der Merwe and the Akustika Chamber Choir led by Christo Burger.
In March this year, Nataniël and Charl celebrated 25 years on stage together and they seal this with a Gala Concert at Aardklop – on October 7 (7pm) and October 8 (10 am) in the University of Potchefstroom Auditorium.
This won’t be an ordinary concert. These two artists haven’t only shared 25 years on stage and many kilometres of travel through the South African countryside for one-off shows, but this was also the start of Charl’s stage career, which has been quite stunning to witness from the start – one he has since established both nationally and internationally – a feat for someone who started out as a classical pianist (one of the most difficult careers to pursue) and accompanist. Today he has a doctorate and is celebrated as both a classical and jazz artist. I can’t wait to see these two face off on stage on equal footing. For those fortunate enough to see one of these concerts, I predict something unique.
Nataniël is already making promises that this won’t be a rundown of what they have already accomplished. They will be celebrating today and tomorrow. “Who are we now and how do we see the future” will be their aim.
“Why would we return to the past? That’s done and we have all been there.” And in typical Nataniël fashion he predicts: “I want to hear an intake of breath when I walk on stage!”
As he so astutely confirms, it will be 70 years of experience when the two of them mark their stage partnership.
While talking partnerships and friendships, one of his closest friends, actress/comedian Marion Holm, will be interviewing Nataniël on his latest book of short stories titled Sweetie. Book discussions aren’t his favourite, but if he has to do it, Marion would be his choice. “She can physically shut me up just by barking.” You’ll have to be there to understand exactly what that means. They go way back and to experience these two like-minded actors sparring verbally, you don’t want to miss that. They’re a scream individually, together it’s an exuberance.
Your ticket will be a copy of Sweetie which can either be bought before the time or at the Exclusive Pop-Up in the book tent. The first 200 people with a book in hand will be allowed into the space, which will be closed off for this event. You won’t be able to listen in on the sidelines. The Sweetie discussion is going to be that exclusive and is happening on October 8 at 3pm at Aardklop.
And it’s not over yet by a long stretch. A photographer who for more than two decades documented Nataniël’s career, Clinton Lubbe, who immigrated a few years back, is back in town for an exhibition of life-size Nataniël pictures titled Parade, another first for Aardklop. Their collaboration has also been running for more than two decades and Nataniël describes Clinton’s camera as a paintbrush, because of the way he creates pictures. They’re not simply pictures, they’re artworks, he notes. “I’m going to be the Naomi Campbell of Aardklop,” he says with a smile and a wink.
Finally, but just for the moment, there’s his latest production, Catch Me, Love, which will be staged at Artscape from November 13 to 16. He is already busy writing, which is unheard of. He usually works on his scripts much closer to his performance than a few months, but looking at his schedule, he knew he had to get ahead.
This one is going to be visually and structurally different to his former shows, he says. And although it is still early days, I know he has already dreamt and planned it in detail. It will only feature in Gauteng in the New Year because in-between there’s the promise of a French countryside holiday, his annual escape (when he can manage) to one of his favourite places, which is what motivates him these days.
Watch this space for fresh announcements or changes. They will be coming …
FROM LEFT TO RIGHT: Gontse Ntshegang as Grace, Craig Jackson as the psychiatrist and Farai Chigudu as the bodyguard withThemba Ndaba as Robert Mugabe.
PICTURES: Ngoma KaMphahlele
BREAKFAST WITH MUGABE by FRASER GRACE
DIRECTOR: Calvin Ratladi
PLAYWRIGHT: Fraser Grace
SET DESIGNER: Wilhelm Disbergen
COSTUME DESIGNER: Sheli Masondo
LIGHTING DESIGNER: Denis Hutchinson
CULTURAL DRAMATURGE: Professor Samuel Ravengai
MUSIC: Matthew Macfarlane
ACCENT COACH: Louise-Saint Claire
CAST: Themba Ndaba as Mugabe, Gontse Ntshegang as Grace, Craig Jackson as Andrew Peric and Farai Chigudu as Gabriel
VENUE: Mannie Manim at the Market Theatre
DATES: until August 10
If you are intrigued by the title, this is a play you will want to see. With the name Robert Mugabe having special meaning in South Africa, neighbouring country to Zimbabwe, it was a packed buzzy audience in attendance, always a joy to behold in an industry that’s constantly in battle.
If you google the number of Zimbabweans living in South Africa, they are described as the largest group of foreign migrants in the country. “Some estimates suggest the number could be as high as 3 to 5 million.” And it goes on to say that the influx is primarily due to economic hardship and instability in Zimbabwe.
South Africans will all have some opinion of what occurred in Zimbabwe. Mugabe is still an enigma to many because he started as a saviour in the new democracy in 1980 in a country which was ravaged by civil war. The education system alone can attest to that.
Yet, because of the ambiguities, political perspectives and where you come from will come into play when watching this fierce production. If you are expecting answers to the many questions you might have, what you get is a view of the complications of a system which so clearly exposes the cliché, “you cannot please all of the people all of the time”.
What you have is a deeply troubled man haunted by his actions as a political leader of a country that lay in ruins yet full of hope for a new dawn. The action is heightened from the start as Grace Mugabe (his second wife) has summoned a white psychologist to see her husband. What unfolds all happens in hushed tones, with people looking over their shoulders waiting for some kind of menace.
A man who was born to intimidate, Mugabe’s bodyguard, is hovering and watching in constant attendance. A jittery wife at first seems worried about her distressed husband, yet as she almost pounces on her guest, it is clear that she is much more concerned with her own wellbeing as Shopper of the Nation (which is clearly and most deliciously displayed in her glitzy attire) and wants to make sure her own position isn’t threatened. She is after all a secretary, who switched to sycophantic wife.
What happens next is like a thriller unspooling in almost Shakespearean fashion. Present are Robert Mugabe, his wife Grace, an English psychiatrist and the ever present bodyguard. The tone is set by an obviously agitated and deeply paranoid leader who, even though haunted by the past, is intent on dissembling reality.
The cast is astounding, from Ndaba’s resolved Mugabe and Jackson’s bewildered yet embattled psychiatrist to the staunch bodyguard portrayed by Chigudu and the glorious Ntshegang, who masterfully displays Grace’s Machiavellian traits as she plays everyone differently.
The writing is a masterpiece. First written at the turn of the century, its relevance seems heightened in today’s world where unfettered power is displayed and celebrated with such candour and even pride. But it’s the way playwright Fraser Grace tackles all the issues, explores the ruthlessness of the regime and manages to stand aside from the writing that makes this hair-raising yet compulsive viewing.
Well done to Greg Homann and The Market for staging this work and for the passion of director Calvin Ratladi, Standard Bank Young Artist for Theatre who held onto his dream of directing this play one day and grabbed the opportunity when he had the chance.
He knew exactly how and with whom it should be told.
“What we love about music is not that it sounds good. What we love about music is that it sounds inevitable. It’s playing the thing that we all know is unfolding. Whether we want to accept it or not …”
Jon Batiste (American Symphony)
This is the quote artist Frieda van den Heever sent me when we started a conversation on email.
I became aware of her as a producer. She was mostly involved with poetry-driven productions, but what I noticed was the sensibility of what is a very tough stage production.
How do you get people to attend poetry productions at a festival where there is so much on the go? But she did and she knew how.
She describes herself as a novice who preaches, because she studied drama not theology. She explains that in Springbok, where she grew up, they called it people’s church when a normal person preached because the preacher couldn’t be there.
“I have been doing it for almost 14 years, and no one has ever asked for my credentials,” she says. Having encountered her on stage, I understand why.
She is part of InVia congregation in Cape Town and describes this community as a group of people who love music and people. Her father was a minister and while she spent most of her free hours as a child in his study rather than on her own, she never thought that she would either enter the church or become a musician like her mother. “I had spent enough time in churches with music in my ears for a lifetime,” was what she thought.
Still, when she read something impactful she always caught herself speaking rather than just reading that passage. She simply couldn’t escape and then there was a time when she didn’t want to any longer. It has always been a juggling game, because it wasn’t something she could practise fulltime. But she missed theatre.
She believes in the power of stories, fables, poetry and metaphors. “Both theology and theatre navigate a place beyond knowledge, something like mysticism, and tell stories that often hold warm truths rather than cold facts,” she explains.
The part of her work that she favours most is what she describes as “accompanying rituals”, including marriages, funerals, christenings and the like. She regards it as her calling to add to the honouring of these events. It’s not that she participates only in religious ceremonies; she is often involved when people aren’t particularly interested in a church but still have a need for some kind of ritual which they share with their loved ones.
She also presents talks and retreats for congregations or groups of people who approach her. These are creative workshops specifically for women, but she stresses, “it has nothing to do with pancakes, crochet and tea parties.”
She knows these certainly have a place, but for her it is about togetherness, breathing, chanting, laughing and crying.
That’s just the beginning of all her activities. She is also involved in yoga and the transformation that ensues and has a deep fascination with people and how they struggle and survive. And while she would have loved to study psychology, a lack of time made her opt for an intensive 14-month course in integral coaching which will be incorporated in her other work.
And still, she keeps going. Once a week, she travels to Stellenbosch, her alma mater, and teaches cabaret facilitating the practical execution and texts of the honours students in the US Drama Department . As a student of the legendary Marthinus Basson, she is delighted that she can pass on her experience to a younger generation.
There’s also her radio work which started on small scale, but her talents were quickly recognized. And she still benefits from her innovative moves during Covid which resulted in her producing programmes in the basement of her home.
That led to her producing most of her radio and television work in her home. It means that she doesn’t have to spend too much time away from her children and allows her to do much of that work early in the morning. “It all happens before the children and the cars have to wake,” she says.
I’m breathless and haven’t yet come to her performance, which is really what I want to promote.
On Wednesday at 7pm, Frieda will be performing at the Fairtree Atterbury Theatre in Lynnwood, Pretoria for the first time in a magnificent production, Spoorsny (tracking) .
“I really went into grief. I sensed that I had to go in if I wanted to come out. I don’t mean that I’m perfect now, but I’ve been through the perfect storm and that moulds one to find more light because I was mining the darkness. I can sense, I almost want to say I can smell light and when I sense it I look for it everywhere. The material for my debut album came from a show I did on what would have been the night of Leon’s (Kruger) 50th birthday. (He had died very suddenly in 2021) I saw the Woordfees was during that time and I didn’t know on which date I was going to perform and then when they sent me the date, I went for it to really celebrate him with this work and this script. I could have gone to sit somewhere in the quiet and the dark which isn’t wrong, I have done it. But for that night I wanted to share what was left of me, so that it could multiply and I’m grateful for that.”
Her previous productions as director, Die Poet – Wie’s Hy?, Die Oerkluts Kwyt and Met Woorde Soos Kerse all shared a particular sensibility that made me aware of a rare director at work. She knows she didn’t have the technical experience, but her affinity with poetry and performance outweighed anything else. I didn’t notice any imperfections with any of those mind-blowing shows.
She works with love, a fine-tuned ear and excellent evalution. Also, part of the package was a childlike “unknowing”, an unwavering belief in the collective intelligence and the process, endless curiosity as well as an excellent production team and artists. Her motto was to always be present in the process. Whatever the requirements, it worked.
If you’re crying halt, there’s more. For 10 years she has been involved in a process with farm workers who boast magnificent voices. Each year she selects 10 of the best and offers them the opportunity to learn and to show off their talent. “I try to bring each individual something, give some of my experience, but I can’t teach them anything about singing. I have worked with voices that compare with the best in the world and it is a burning passion to create more platforms to showcase these voices.”
Her own musical talent, writing and composing songs and performing, has never been the only thing she wants to rely on to make a living. She wanted to be a free spirit when going on stage.
She is much more of a homebody than someone who wants to be out there but she also has a need to be challenged by the alchemy of a live performance. She obviously has a blueprint when she goes on stage, but she also reads the room and has the talent to shape her performance in different ways.
If she had a choice, she would write songs, play music, dance and jam with other voices and instruments all day long. “That feels like the best and most unvarnished version of myself,” she concedes.
To my mind, that is exactly who we watch and listen to during a performance of Spoorsny.
But let me give wordsmith Frieda van den Heever the last word: “The sudden death of my husband in 2021 and the impact of mortality and loss give perspective to everything I do and am. I am much more than a widow and single mom, but it gives context to my decisions and relationships, the spaces I find myself in and how I engage with people. The raw material which emerged in my debut album Skoonveld and formed the platform for the stage show Spoorsny as well as the anthology (published by NB) ‘n Asem Lank says everything about my search for meaning and light.”
In the programme notes online it says that this play is a masterclass in writing and performance – and that is exactly what it is. And the aspects that I found most intriguing as being a born South African, I have been dealing and watched others sharing their trauma in this country for many decades.
Some similarities especially in text will occur, but I am passionate about people creating theatre – especially solo theatre.
Having to travel from Pretoria for most of my theatre, I consider very carefully which plays I want to see whether good or bad, just work that will appeal to me. And this is where theatre sometimes becomes problematic. If you are going to see a play that is 70 minutes long, it becomes a money issue. It has to. Time and travel become a worry.
So I have started coming up with fresh solutions to make my choices easier. With this one, I had already booked for a new musical opening and I thought I could slip this short prodcution into the mix without any difficulty. I see many more plays on one day when attending a festival. And that is what I did and will do more of in the future when the problem rears its head.
Brincat, who is a first generation South African, is described in many different ways and with many accomplished skills from acting, juggling and magic artistry to fine art, chef, writing and producing one-man shows, it seems.
But this is my first encounter as far as I can tell with this versatile artist. As he’s based in Cape Town and visits the National Arts Festival, while I am based in Pretoria and cover the Afrikaans festivals around the country, his work is unfamiliar to me.
The Moon Looks Delicious from Here is a man’s struggle with identity and finding his own place in what should be his world but isn’t always that straightforward is what he shares and struggles with.
It is familiar territory stretching from the ‘60s tot ’94, but it’s always interesting to discoverhow other people deal with issues that come up for many of us in different ways. It is also fascinating to see how others approach their work, especially when at play, as solo shows can be limiting, depending on the content and how familiar you are with the subject.
He had me from beginning to end; engaging with his audience wasn’t an issue for him even with a most unusual mix on a Sunday afternoon. Half of the 100-plus theatre audience (and I’m guessing numbers) were elderly white couples and the other half were young (between 20 and 35) Black men and women. And throughout there was laughter from different quarters. It was a journey of remembrance for oldies and probably one of illumination for youngsters.
It would have been fascinating to have an audience talk after the show in this instance. This is Brincat sticking his toe in the water and it feels good. Hopefully he will be back so that we can get to know more of his work and his content.
When you have one writer in the family, I would imagine you feel blessed. Two? Perhaps not so much but someone who makes a meal of this is ANTJIE KROG who in her latest memoir writes about the relationship between her and her mother, the author Dot Serfontein. DIANE DE BEER started out reading the English version, followed that with the one in Krog’s home language and then listened to her talk about the book:
It’s a personal thing, I know, but if I can read a writer in her home language, I do. And again I was proved right with Antjie Krog’s latest offerings, Blood’s Inner Rhyme or the Afrikaans version Binnerym van die Bloed, which she describes as an autobiographical novel.
Because I write in English, I thought it might be easier to read that version, but after hearing her speak, I knew I had to get my hands on the Afrikaans book. It’s the way she Krog uses the Afrikaans language which enriches the reading.
If I didn’t have the option, I would have given the English a similar review, it’s simply that the Afrikaans introduces a different heartbeat.
Even in the best pairings, mothers and daughters have complicated relationships. When you are competing with one another even if that’s not the intention, which I’m sure it wasn’t, it’s going to be tough. Add to that two headstrong women who arguably stand on opposite sides of the political spectrum, expect fireworks – and that’s what you get.
Women all have mothers, that’s obvious, and some have their own daughters. All of us know the intricacies of that relationship – and that is when it isn’t public. Writing for an English newspaper, I wasn’t part of the Afrikaans writers’ circles and even I, not your natural gossip girl, heard rumours. And that’s where I admire Krog for doing this extraordinary book.
Antjie Krog, author extraordinaire.
Both of these women are celebrated writers who lived their lives in the spotlight. To then delve even more publicly into that life must have been an excruciating decision. And then to travel the country as one does to promote the book – what extraordinary courage. It reminds me that artists sometimes don’t have a choice, it has to come out. And usually it is the reader who benefits.
Thanks goodness Krog decided to write about this often fraught, sometimes fragile but also intense relationship. I can only guess that while sometimes devastating it must also have been therapeutic and the way to mourn and celebrate what she once had. Death has a way of shining a new light on something that was just too overwhelming to observe as it was happening.
For those of us ageing ourselves who have also shared a close relationship with a mother in her last years, it is especially meaningful. My eldest sister booked my parents into a retirement home which was on the way home from my work and I could pop in as often as possible without any inconvenience. I coped with the sometimes-daily trauma of witnessing this ageing process by communicating with a third sister who could only get the news via whatsapp or email. It was a lifesaver.
I could appreciate the daily diary of Krog’s mother’s most basic needs. That is in fact what happens when people age as we are forced to focus on the brutal minutiae of their lives. For example:
Night report:
20.00 Medication. Pt (patient) didn’t want to drink half a sleeping pill. Wanted a whole one
22.45 PT said her toes hurt. Applied Turlington + gave another half sleeping pill
00.30 Pt wanted another half sleeping pill. She was uncomfortable. She wanted to get up, I had to hold her by the sides. Pt wanted to make food. Pt was angry that the freezer had no meat.
These diaries were kept day and night – every day and night. It constantly reminds one of the process that is unfolding. As Krog tells it, focussing on her mother’s “excrement which happens daily is to own that which is being rejected, that which is such a part of her waning existence, her body’s extremities.” Krog who tells things exactly how they are explains: “There’s actually a very profound thing about shit,” she says as she captures the importance of change as life starts running out.
In full flow.
Yet there’s so much more happening around the family. It is an especially fraught time for farmers and for Dot Serfontein the family farm represents who she is. It was her inheritance. For Krog, even though she has similar bonds to the farm, she also knows and is burdened by the privilege it represents – something in this country that was often at the cost of someone else.
It is fascinating to read and witness the lives of different generations, especially in that time when everyone in the country knew things were going to change dramatically. She acknowledges that the relationship between mother and daughter is complex. In this family and between this mother and daughter perhaps even more than most.
While Krog is at pains to write about this sometimes combative relationship, it is also a celebration of Dot Serfontein, who she was and what she achieved with her writing. This is where and how Krog first discovered her words and both she and her readers have benefited.
There are so many stories captured in what can be described as a memoir. Having lived through the ageing process of my parents, that is what drew me to the writing. One learns so much about your own mortality, growing old gracefully and celebrating life whatever your age.
And thus her mother concludes only a couple of chapters into the book: “I keep all your letters,” she writes to her daughter. “One day you can compile us in a plundered book like Audrey Blignault’s daughter. Initially I wondered whether the sudden revival of my oevre was thanks to you, but when I saw so many Dot Serfonteinisims in your work and some of our private family phantom(b)s, I thought we constitute each other.”
Having lived in each other’s shadow most of their lives, it couldn’t be any other way. That is what this astonishing writer captures so magnificently. Yes it is about a mother and daughter, but there is so much more. It’s insightful, entertaining, both sad and extremely funny, and even historical in many instances. But what captured my heart was Krog’s writing. She has a way with words that is unequaled.
It’s explosive, it’s engaging, it plays with your mind (stretching it this way and that), it’s mesmerising, it sweeps your whole being along and most of all, it’s original and creative in a way that heightens all the senses. And then it shows you everything theatre can be.
Khoza is a presence not only with the theatricality of their costumes but especially with the way they move, speak, sing, chant and engage their audience from start to finish. There’s no time for your mind to wander or wonder, you’re simply in the moment as you participate in this experience that for most of us would be completely unique.
It’s ritual and rhythm, it’s engaging your whole being. This isn’t something you‘re watching, you’re participating on a level that is here and now. It’s theatre-in-the round with the performer, the one who is leading the way on this exploration of the past where human zoos and exhibitions in Western societies, our societies, turned people into curiosities to be paraded and exploited for the delight of white fetish. That is even difficult to write after seeing this play.
Especially for those of us on the oppressors’ side, while we gasp in horror at the stories, we know what our race has done to people because of the colour of their skin, have seen many plays and read many books about those times, yet, sadly it remains just that. It’s not as though your body can viscerally experience what that must have been like. It’s something that white people to this day never experience. They simply don’t have to navigate a world that plays by rules made for them … still.
How many times have you as a white body thought about how anything that you do on a specific day will be determined by the colour of your skin? Think of Trump’s world in today’s context for example. People are being rounded up and deported even with citizenship because of the way they look.
Khoza suggests that it is a history that is not spoken about and which they are determined to address so that those affected can reclaim, reflect and confront themselves as people. Because it is something that continues to this day, for them it is about the need for spiritual healing and reclaiming violated dignities.
The one thing all of us have felt in our lives is humiliation. For many it is an occasional thing that can be quickly discarded as you move on with your life. For others it is an institutionalized part of their life and there’s no escaping. The only requisite to fall prey to this is the colour of your skin. Everything in our lives to this day is determined by this. Think Black Lives Matter.
It is described as an installation-based performance and for me personally, it was as though my whole body had suddenly been awakened. I felt alerted to the way the world works. Was there anything said that I hadn’t heard before or didn’t know? How many times have I not experienced the Saartjie Baartman story, a woman torn from her family, stripped of her identity as a human being, taken from Africa to Europe and displayed for the Western world to view in a human zoo? We know and sympathise about the atrocities of the past. And again we wonder about those happening all around us, because they’re still there.
What The Black Circus does is change the perspective; it inhabits your body and soul in a way that takes you the the heart of the atrocities. For Khozait is a place of collective healing where the shackles are discarded, and a spiritual connection established.
It’s a difficult experience to write about because it is one to experience rather than to analyse. You want to enter the space knowing just the title.
At the beginning I felt as though I was sitting in a glorious painting. A story of some kind was going to unfold and as with most theatre, I was excited. What I got was so much more. It was unexpected, challenging in the way theatre should be, explosive in performance and presentation, and something that has changed my life. And that is what theatre should be.
I will be looking at and facing the world diffently.
De Beer Necessities 