Presented by Troupe Theatre Company in association with Daphne Kuhn Playwright: Gail Louw Actor: Graham Hopkins Director: Fiona Ramsay
Venue: Theatre on the Square, Sandton
Dates: Until May 24
If you were witness to the birth of the South African democracy in 1994, Albie Sachs will be familiar to you.
Not only was he part of the drafting of a charter for the new non-racial South Africa, but he also fought for the inclusion of a Bill of Rights and an independent judiciary in the new constitution.
On a more visible front, he was involved with the development of the new Constitutional Court building, and it is widely acknowledged that he was the instigator of the magnificent artistic heritage so marvellously displayed all over Constitution Hill.
As the title suggests, that’s not the story told in Albie Sachs: Father, Sons and Soft Vengeance; many of those facts will be familiar to South Africans.
It is Albie the man, the father, the survivor who tells this personal story of a young boy whose life was shaped and politically driven by parents who were both part of the Communist Party while his father, Solly, was also the leader of South Africa’s Garment Workers Union.
He grew up seeing white and black adults interacting as equals. That’s the background.
But here is a man who was also a father and a freedom fighter, somebody who lost an arm in a car bomb in Mozambique, where the South African secret service was actively trying to obliterate their antagonistic fellow South Africans.
And this is where the play is focused. Albie, instead of being crushed by the apartheid regime, viewed his scarred limb as a symbol of strength. It also pushed him onto a world stage where he became an icon of the liberation.
These musings of a man whose life was determined by the laws of the country of his birth, come to life in especially conversations with his son Oliver and that is how the story unfolds. It’s fascinating stuff which is magnificently explored by Graham Hopkins, who allows Sachs to emerge as a full-blooded human being.
It’s in the clothes, the way he moves and takes on the persona with a subtle touch. Seamlessly, he acquires the accents he uses for particular characters with astounding Hopkins flair. He moves through the 90-minute monologue in the blink of an eye without losing his audience as he tells the story of a man and a country fighting for their life.
It’s not an easy play to stage, but with the experienced Ramsay both as director and as actor, found imaginative ways to approach what could have been clumsy rather than crafty. Solo productions can easily fall into the trap of trying to add movement into a too static production, which then detracts from rather than embraces the text.
And then the play. Telling an Albie Sachs story could have been many different things. He is such a remarkable individual, a South African we were lucky to have during a momentous time in our nation’s future development as a democracy.
There were so many ways to swing with this one, but opting for the personal, the impact on his life of events he had no control over, is where the focus lies. That and the bridging of the gap between father and son, sharing the story in a way that explains how and why he was influenced in a specific way and how he hoped to have an impact on the future he wished for his children.
It also feels as though it is Sachs speaking, as though he has opened his heart and his mind to those who care to listen. It’s an extraordinary life and one that fellow South Africans can celebrate with pride.
He has been actively part of living and shaping the history of this country. It is individuals like him with strong belief systems who have turned this country into a beacon of hope in a world that seems to have lost its way.
It bubbles and bristles with energy, enthusiasm and excitement in this return season of a play which started as a student production in 2024 and returned in 2025 to the National Arts Festival, where it won a Golden Ovation Award, as well as a Naledi for Best Ensemble.
This current season is the forerunner of a showcase at a Swedish Festival, where it is one of four international productions selected from 600 applicants. And rightly so.
I was surprised when leaving the show that it had only been 60 minutes long. It felt much longer, in the best possible sense, and grabs your attention from start to finish. It was packed with adventure and a cast of 14 who never let up as they leapt into this glorious yet often gruesome adventure of the human condition in a world out of kilter.
How would theatre react to a world unhinged, as is presently at play? Through storytelling, of course, and taking this one to a European audience is the perfect choice.
Think of this country’s past and, in the present turmoil, one can only smile. We are sailing along quite nicely, apart from the constant syphoning off of state money, in this instance from the art coffers, which could benefit so many rather than just a few unworthy recipients.
Nevertheless, taking four constant bogeymen in a world that feels overwhelmingly disastrous and desperate: greed, mortality, religion and unconditional love – this outrageous yet wildly entertaining ragtag group use physical theatre and magic realism to uncover and explore what is happening around them and especially out there.
The fact that this comes from a country that not too long ago was viewed as one of the worst in the world, in itself brings hope.
With Buckland’s theatre-making ideal for this tawdry yet dynamic storytelling, it’s a joy to watch with the cast performing magnificently. It’s a compelling piece, told in an original fashion with a story that reaches young and old.
This is what the Market Theatre Laboratory does best. Described as “an incubator for the development of skilled theatre-makers while also producing bold, cutting-edge work”, that is exactly what is represented here.
That is why the way this specific piece has been transformed from its first performances to where it stands now is spectacular and a wonderful testament to what can be achieved in theatre with the right people and plans in place.
None of these 14 players has ever performed internationally and with this one, they are a testament to how theatre can evolve from small beginnings into something special.
Local audiences who see the piece will also be contributing towards the tour, and the cast are given every chance to land on the international stage in the best shape possible. What could be a better advertisement for local theatre, especially in a country like Sweden, which has contributed hugely to The Market and its pursuit of world-class theatre?
But don’t think you will be doing something charitable when going to experience this remarkable play, audiences are the ones that are rewarded.
In essence, the power lies in the originality of the text, the exuberant application and the perfection of the cast.
PRODUCED BY TONY FLACK, TROUPE THEATRE COMPANY AND THE THEATRE ON THE SQUARE
STARRING FIONA RAMSAY AND OWAIN RHYS DAVIES
WRITTEN AND DIRECTED BY JANNA RAMOS-VIOLANTE
VENUE: THEATRE ON THE SQUARE, SANDTON
DATES: 17 to 19 March (7.30 to 9pm), 20 and 21 March 5 to 6.30 pm and 7.30 to 9pm) with similar schedules from 24 to 28 March
A NOTE FROM JANNA RAMOS-VIOLANTE
I wanted to write THE OPERA SINGER because I am deeply interested in the stories we tell about greatness and in what those stories leave out. We celebrate artists at their peak. We applaud them, photograph them, quote them. We call them icons, divas, legends. But we rarely stay long enough to ask what it cost them to become that, or what remains once the applause has faded. We are very good at consuming brilliance. We are far less comfortable sitting with the human being behind it. THE OPERA SINGER is a woman who gave everything to her art. Not symbolically. Literally. Her body, her relationships, her youth, her possibility of an ordinary life. She was rewarded with adoration, but adoration is loud and fleeting. Love is quieter. It stays. That distinction became central to the writing of this piece. Opposite her stands Theo, a journalist. Not a villain. Not a hero. Simply a man who believes, or hopes, that truth can be captured in words. Journalism in this play is not an attack, but a question. Who owns a life once it has been written about? What happens when private pain becomes public narrative? When does documentation become theft, even when intentions are good? I am interested in the uneasy space where art, journalism, and celebrity meet. Where the hunger to understand collides with the need to protect. Where truth is slippery, memory unreliable, and identity something that keeps shifting depending on who is looking. This is not a play about opera. It is a play about devotion. About the choices we make in the name of calling, and the parts of ourselves we quietly abandon along the way. It is about fear, and discipline, and the seduction of being seen. It is also about ageing, and what it feels like to exist in a world that no longer knows what to do with you once your prime has passed. I hope this piece invites you not just to watch, but to listen. And perhaps to leave thinking a little differently about the lives we admire, the art we consume, and the cost we rarely see.
What joy to have the supreme Fiona Ramsay back on stage in a production written by her regular collaborator Janna Ramos-Violante. And welcome back to her as well on a local stage, living as she has in Europe these past few years. We’ve missed her sharp and incisive voice.
She’s written a thought-provoking play that encourages Ramsay to show her remarkable artistic prowess. There’s so much to admire here, the writing, the staging and the acting – all in ascendancy throughout.
But even more than that, it is a play that’s mesmerizing from start to finish as it draws the curtains on that hidden side of being an artist. Who isn’t intrigued by these backstage secrets, the hidden lives of performers who have to step on stage and share the most intimate details in a story written by someone else?
Through the years Ramsay has given her audience extraordinary characters she has inhabited with her whole body, soul and voice. And this time she brings the flamboyant ageing opera star to glorious life. She looks and plays the part to perfection.
It’s a delightful production that allows the actors (Ramsay and Rhys Davies as Harrington, who brilliantly captures the fan/foil to the irascible fading artist) to play out different scenarios as the artist and the journalist face-off, reflecting the nature of their relationship.
She also shines what she describes as a questioning light on the role of the journalist, who hopes to invite the audience to experience truly great acting or criticize the way a performer might be telling a particular story.
And yet,with the arts always fighting for their very existence, for everyone involved, specifically those with passion, it’s a delicate balance. If you’re not truthful (good or bad) about a particular production, who will trust your guidance in the future?
But who can claim the right to make that judgement? And yet, each one plays a particular role, and hopefully in the end, it’s all driven by a passion for the arts.
As a performer, director and playwright, Ramos-Violante has always had a very strong voice. She interrogates her world with a sharp eye and gives different points of view for her audience to digest. She is intimately familiar with that world and knows all the pitfalls, most of which have no solution but come with the territory, which doesn’t necessarily make it right or wrong. As in many professions, it just is.
She has always had an interesting take on things, writes brilliantly and, in this instance knows her subject. She throws it out there and gives the experienced Ramsay free rein which she claims magnificently.
If you’re interested in theatre and the arts, this is soul food. And especially in these times when everyone is battling for your time and presence, it’s marvelous to witness good old-style theatre with content which has never been more relevant.
DATES: Tonight (7 pm), tomorrow 3 and 7pm, and Sunday at 3pm. The show has been extended until February 22
The times they are a changin …
And that is why this was such an excellent choice to launch the 50th anniversary of one of our country’s icons, The Market Theatre.
Marabi is the kind of show which celebrates and recalls a past which many would rather forget yet must be a constant reminder of where we come from. When Sebotsane is asked about his character’s name, July, he casually responds that it’s the month he was born.
His interrogator laughs and responds that had he been born later, it could have been August. And we are reminded how even names were loaded during those harsh years.
The balance of this mostly joyous production is perfect. Because it is rooted in the music of the time, there’s a nostalgic element which while telling a harsh story of survival, always leans on the music to hold onto the dreams while fighting the good fight.
That’s what has always been part of this country and its people, especially during the darkest times. Marabi reminds us how life was and where we are today. And that we will always have the music, perhaps the most haunting element of the show.
The cast is a big one with mostly seasoned actors and you need that with this production, which needs the full cast to be accomplished actors, dancers and singers.
Even though we are reflecting on times when most people in the country had no rights, looking back has a certain bravura to it. We’ve made it through. When watching it the first time, that luxury was not available and The Market was one of the few theatres allowed to have mixed audiences … lest we forget.
Director Molepo was part of the original cast and the perfect choice. He gets the mood right, allows a clever text to have impact while softening the blows with a glorious mix of music and movement.
The lighting is also used magnificently, sometimes bathing the stage in shadows so that the singing is the standout performance.
Theatre is such a fantastic barometer of life and what is happening around us. It helps to put the world in perspective, allows the emotions to bubble over in a safe space and, more than anything, reminds us the importance of artists and storytelling.
These are different times, but the world outside our borders is a precarious one. Marabi is a reminder of how much we’ve changed – and also of how much we still have left to do. Yet more importantly, while everyone seems to be moving backwards, we must keep forging ahead. Of course, there are bumps in the road but we have battled many before and won.
This is one for those of us who lived through the past, but also for a new generation who doesn’t quite understand or even believe where we came from. If nothing else, the music should be part of our memories. Even the youngsters in the audience were singing along, which is evidence that we can cherish some key elements of the worst times.
And hats off to the genius piano player who kept us tapping our feet from when we entered the theatre up to the curtain call!
Presented by Joburg’s Market Theatre in partnership with Hattiloo Theatre from Memphis Tennessee
CAST: Chastity Alliston, Zan Tarria Edwards, Jamille Hunter and Grant Kee
DATES: Until February 22 at Joburg’s Market Theatre
This Tony-nominated musical states that it celebrates blues, jazz and gospel classics, and their connection is with love, resilience and especially the emotional lives of Black women.
It is described as a scorcher in which the soul of the blues wails out full and strong through hot and torchy numbers. It also weaves the sweet, sexy, and sorrowful stories of three women entangled with a lying, cheating man.
For the record, songs by legends such as Bessie Smith, Duke Ellington, Johnny Mercer, Harold Arlen, Alberta Hunter, Jimmy Cox, Ida Cox, and more feature but probably what surprised me more than anything was how little I knew of any of the music performed.
It’s as if we (or perhaps that’s simply the shows I saw) focused on only a few familiar numbers like the title song as so much of the music was unfamiliar to me. But, instead of this being a negative, I found that exciting.
The performers are perfect for this musical challenge. The powerhouse Edwards, with a voice that seems to go on forever, is masterfully complemented by the sweet-toned Hunter and the smoky Alliston, while the solo male singer Kee, carrying the burden for the rest of his absent gender, uses his voice and jaunty presence to do the talking.
Not only was I witnessing an unfamiliar cast, it was also the music that overwhelmed me from start to finish. The first half felt a bit like a journey through the world of blues music, while the second half upped the rhythm as well as the vocals, which gave the audience a nudge to swing with the party.
This is music that was created to illustrate the pain of oppressive times, and like here, music was usually the platform where artists could express themselves. This show was picked specifically for Black History Month, which marks its 100th year in 2026.
The centenary calls for “an honest reflection on memory, healing, culture, as well as the condition and position of Black bodies in a still increasingly divided world.”
This milestone further coincides with The Market Theatre’s 50th anniversary, a powerful connection that presents a rich opportunity for representation and amplification of unheard voices. It is directed and choreographed by Emma Crystal, with musical direction by Dr. Ashley K. Davis.
And while on relevant dates, this is also the 70th anniversary of the historic August 9,1956 Women’s March, focusing the spotlight even more sharply on that especially neglected group, Black women.
Founder and CEO of Hattiloo Theatre, Ekundayo Bandele, and Artistic Director of The Market Theatre Foundation, Greg Homann, recognised and embraced the common histories between the two theatres in staging socially engaged works that prick at their respective nations’ collective conscience.
“From South Africa to the US, generations of oppressed people have sung their way up against discrimination, racism, subjugation and dispossession as an unstoppable wave. This year as we proudly present Blues in the Night for its African premiere, we also celebrate music’s ability to remind us of our shared humanity despite our fractured times,” shares Homann.
They aim to keep this exchange going – both to the advantage of performers and audiences.
*Playing alongside also at the Market is our own musical theatre classic Marabi, which will be reviewed later this week.
SOMETIMES I HAVE TO LEAN IN Choreographer & Performer: Alan Parker Director & Performer: Gerard Bester Dramaturg: Gavin Krastin Text (“Wallflower”): Gwydion Beynon VENUE: POPArt Theatre DATES: Today at 3pm
It’s difficult to let people know in time to catch one of the shows at Joburg’s POPArt, because they have short runs, but that’s also the purpose of their theatre. It’s for an easy yet discerning theatre crowd who like seeing something unusual and probably not available at a more traditional theatre. It’s one of the delights of theatre that it offers such diversity. And this particular venue is a great example. This present production has been around for a while starting as a commissioned work for Dance Umbrella in 2018 before playing at the Live Art Festival in Cape Town and most recently in 2024 for the National Arts Festival in Makanda. Gerard Bester and Alan Parker created this delightful physical theatre piece playing with ideas that possibly featured in their own lives as ageing performers which begins as soon as you pass through that first theatrical endeavour. Rather than focusing on age, it’s looking at two performers who have been in the industry for some time and are leaning in to find not only themselves and each other but also a way to be creative – not only on stage but also, hopefully in the world. There’s a sweetness and a melancholy to their approach which might seemingly come across as quite lowkey, yet delivers a strong emotional punch. It’s the unusual way they both move, sometimes leaning against a wall or in-between each other or simply trying their best to lean over while being held tightly by the ankles. It’s about bringing those emotions into the light so that you cannot resist embracing the storytelling as well as the performers. Perhaps co-director of POPArt, Hayleigh Evans says it best: once she saw it a few years back, she knew she had to present it at POPArt. It’s exactly right for this neighbourhood venue that’s easy to access, casual yet professional in its approach and yet another fabulous way to experience theatre at its most pleasurable. With Bester and Parker’s experience, their easy approach and their individually original style, it’s yet another way to access life and all the challenges thrown our way. Simply lean in!
“It’s about how we become an ensemble, whether we are performers, audience members, or neighbours. It’s how the city performs itself through us, and also how we choose to perform the city. Johannesburg is a place that requires a collective navigation, a mutual reliance, a particular call and responses.” Neo Muyanga, Impressario of the Centre for the Less Good Idea in Maboneng.
Dancer Thulisile Binda
By DIANE DE BEER
The best would have been to attend all the evenings of the 11th season to experience the full impact of what co-founder and director of The Centre, Bronwyn Lace describes as a multi-limbed, complex organism which she believes is what the Less Good Idea has evolved into. “…our arms reaching into various directions but connected to the same robust body. It makes sense for us to share a season at the end of this year, because we have an abundance of new strategies, forms, and artworks to test, show, and celebrate.”
Pianist Jill Richards with vocalist Pertunia Msani.
And it certainly was all of that, exploding with a sense of creative abandon in two hours of exuberant performance which ranged from the glorious musically driven showcase by classically trained improviser Jill Richards who performed magnificently with the Benin drummer, percussionist, composer and arranger Angelo Moiustapha accompanied by the melodic voice of Pertunia Msaniiwith Marcus Neustetter’s digital storytelling adding yet another dimension to the experience. The musicianship was breathtaking.
It set the tone for what was to come as the audience moved to William Kentridge’s studio to experience a collection of mindblowing artists, starting with the spiritually immersive Vincent Mantsoe, one of our finest choreographers/dancers in one of his rare local appearances. Translike in his movement and tearing at the soul of those witnessing his deep level of engagement, the evening merged from one artist to another as Kentridge stepped from one stage to the next as he expressed his creativity with body and soul.
It was all about the merging of art and movement, Moving the Mark, as the event was titled, exploring the relationship between visual art and dance. What they wanted to achieve was to explore the relationship between these unusual pairings and what would emerge.
Vincent Mantsoe in action with percussionist Micca Manganye
How would the pure art of collaboration determine new creative decisions for an audience to experience and absorb? What happens when a dancer like Mantsoe mimics the ink stains of an artist like Kentridge, or from a different vantage, when the painter choreographs their brushstrokes?
Artist Penny Siopis took to the air in almost trapeze-like fashion, painting her canvas on the floor from up high while choreographer/dramaturg Shannel Winlock-Pailman worked her magic below in mesmerizing fashion, the two artists in total union while expressing their heightened emotions.
All the while, the musical accompaniment captured the experience of the moment, enveloping the audience in the round, some wrapped in black bags to protect them from the explosive expression of art as artists flung paint creatively with fearsome flair.
The Centre for the Less Good Idea is all about the collective voice expressed in collaborative pairings, artists who work in different mediums but have creativity and exploration that binds them, pushing the boundaries, trying different ways of making new work to excite themselves as artists while also challenging and stimulating audiences constantly searching for art and creativity exploring the evolving world we live in.
Curator Neo Muyanga (left) and Kentridge (right, in the left corner) choreographing with brushstrokes while Mantsoe is on stage following the moves.
It’s exciting when artists go beyond the expected, and are given free rein to explore their storytelling genres. How can they beat that drum differently? Given the chance to fail is often the best way to reach excellence but the restrictions are many. And more than anything, it is the encouragement to stretch far beyond the boundaries, to take that leap and to experience the beginning of experiments which are allowed to grow and flourish.
This first sold-out performance of the 11th season proved that the audience is willing and determined to experience artists moving the mark. The rest of the season sounded as extraordinary and my wish would have been to witness the full week of extraordinary creativity encouraged to dare to go beyond the expected.
How blessed are Gauteng audiences (who showed their appreciation) to experience these glorious experiments inspired and empowered by William Kentridge who could have staged them anywhere in the world. Kentridge gives us the opportunity to grow together and to expand our idea of what anything and everything is. Step into the void and see what happens comes to mind.
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)
Teyana Taylor as Perrfidia, the eternal revolutionary
ONE BATTLE AFTER ANOTHER
CAST: Leo DiCaprio, Sean Penn, Chase Infiniti, Teyana Taylor, Regina Hall, Benicio del Toro
Living in these unsettling times when nobody knows what they will wake up to every morning in so many parts of the world, it is fascinating to see how artists are going to interpret something so personal and yet so beyond anything anyone could have imagined.
If you take previous movies like Boogie Nights, Magnolia and There will Be Blood, with their intent and in their diversity, Anderson’s decision to tackle the life he currently finds himself in, is not surprising. Neither is his approach.
Taking Thomas Pynchon’s ‘80s novel Vineyard (according to production notes) as his starting point, he writes a script so daringly in-your-face yet anchored by a father/daughter love story and electrifies this helter-skelter caper-like tale with a fantastic cast and a pace that leaves you breathless from the start to finish.
Making his attentions clear from the start, two of the strangest revolutionaries explode onto the screen as they shoot their way through an immigration centre to free the victims while simultaneousloy, disabling their viciously fierce, military captors.
With raucous music and an exuberantly energetic, romantically charged couple participating in the escape, it plays like a merry romp rather than a deathly revolution, quite reminiscent of the hippies in the ‘60s.
Chase Infiniti as the daughter of revolutionary active parents faces Regina Hall
And that sets of a chain of events which races through causes and time shifting in giant-sized leaps with the young revolutionaries suddenly parents even though their activities don’t diminish and again as mother is torn apart from father and baby, the child turns into an accomplished scholar raised by her now drug and alcohol drenched dad who spends all his time doting on his darling daughter.
That’s at the heart of the frenetic contemporary tale but into its violent centre strides Colonel Steven J Lockjaw inhabited by a transformed Sean Penn (with the best contemporary remake of a mullet ever as seen above) who immerses himself in his right-wing tin soldier on a crusade to turn his country into a white universe ruled by power-demented ageing white men.
As these stories go, his hormones are unstoppable at the sight of Perfidia and even though he is a monstrous racist, he cannot resist her and starts to stalk her.
She however is committed to the resistance which is how he lands on the trail of Bob (DiCaprio, pictured above) and his now 16-year-old daughter Willa while catching a whiff of his addictive sexual attraction every once in a while.
The rest of the film is as promised one battle after another as father and daughter spend their lives evading their deadly predator while leading seemingly normal lives even though they have escape tunnels and technical devices which speak only to each other.
The film is packed from top to bottom and one side to another. It stretches every way and catapults back and forth to get a hold of the story and everything Anderson embroiders and stictches into his contemporary political tale.
Yet none of this is obvious as you are taken on a madcap adventure with some of the best action scenes and acting you will ever see. DiCaprio’s Bob reminds one of his character in The Wolf of Wall Street, only it’s a few decades on, he acknowledges his brain is fried from decades of abuse and what is left, is a laid-back dad who is happy as long as he is high and his daughter is happy.
Keeping him calm is Benicio del Toro’s sensei (pictured above), who is as cool as he is calm and the one who watches over his charges as if they are precious artefacts. He has manufactured a secret city within a city where he and his followers can escape when the crazy people start descending and some of the best chase scenes – on foot and in cars – will take you on a spree you have never encountered in film. James Bond can only dream of these kind of escapes.
But even as you run along and together as fast as you can (almost with a hop, skip and a jump) with the ragtag collection of what the rulers of their world see as life’s misfits, the politics are deadly serious and nothing to laugh at.
Anderson knows how to get his message across. No use preaching. We all know what is happening around us, the signs are everywhere even if we’re too busy to notice. Catch them with classic comedy and craftmanship and then hit hard with the story you’re really intent on sharing.
And that’s exactly what he does. You might just die laughing.
De Beer Necessities 