Turning old age into a tour de force
WHOEVER said there was a drought of substantial roles for actresses “of a certain age” has surely not seen Sandra Prinsloo’s transcendent performance in Rachelle Greeff’s intimate drama, The Sewing Machine. Because if this play is anything to go by, then vintage is definitely à la mode.
This immersive character study resembles a piece of fine, intricate embroidery from a bygone era — every stitch of dialogue is sewn with care, love and a delicate hand. Its power lies in its simple but deeply moving story of “an old woman in a new world”, a gentle matriarch who feels like an obsolete relic as the world around her spins on its self-obsessed axis.
The English translation of Greeff’s award-winning Afrikaans play is interpreted with grace and insight on stage by Prinsloo, one of the country’s finest and most versatile stage performers.
Through its exceptional text, the gentle but steady directorial hand of Hennie van Greunen (who also translated it) and the ability of Prinsloo to keep an audience riveted to her every word and movement for 70 minutes, despite spending much of the play seated, The Sewing Machine is undoubtedly a play for connoisseurs.
Prinsloo plays Magdaleen, who whiles away her time in a tiny room in a retirement home, surrounded by a few precious keepsakes from her past. Neglected and virtually forgotten by her children and grandchildren, her only “confidante” is a lovingly tended Bernina sewing machine that has been her trusty companion for 55 years.
As Magdaleen prepares to sell it, she sets off on a ramble down memory lane — navigating some thorny thickets among the rose-lined avenues.
Parting with her sewing machine, we discover, symbolises the closing of a chapter and a brave attempt to exorcise painful demons in a quest for inner peace.
Although she professes to be weary of life, there is clearly plenty of vim left in the old bird. Tart, dry humour dots her narrative journey, mingled with sadness and some regret.
There are no grand, towering insights into the human psyche here, nor is there much action to speak of. The lingering impression one leaves with is of an ordinary ouma rendered extraordinary by the way she responds to the trials in her life. That, and the backdrop against which her tale unfolds: the very real plight of many elderly people who, having outlived their “usefulness”, are left to wither away in loneliness, with only memories to keep them company.
It is a privilege to see a veteran (although certainly not old) South African actress in the prime of her career, unpicking the jubilations and tribulations of her tragi-comic character with such remarkable intuition and tenderness. Prinsloo has been artificially aged with make-up but, in her movements and mien, is utterly believable as an octogenarian.
Beautifully etched and acted with great sensitivity, this thoughtful meditation on old age captivates you while slowly breaking your heart … and makes you want to dash out of the theatre and hug a granny!