STAR PERFORMER
The ballet company that saved itself
IF one were to ask the artistic directors of leading arts festivals from around the globe to select a few of the cream of Johannesburg’s dance community for their festivals, they would not hesitate to call out names such as Gregory Maqoma, Sylvia Glasser, Dada Masilo, Gladys Agulhus and PJ Sabbagha. The list would be fairly long.
They might even name Robyn Orlin and Vincent Mantsoe, whose origins are in Johannesburg but who now live in Europe, where they have built international careers.
Those artistic directors would probably also consult Georgina Thomson, founder and long-serving artistic director of the Dance Umbrella, to find out who is the new, hottest kid on the block.
The careers of many of these dancers have their roots somewhere in the 25 years that the Dance Umbrella has been presented in Johannesburg.
With or without funding, this contemporary dance festival has stoically put on a show every year.
What the Dance Umbrella and organisations such as Moving Into Dance Mophatong have in common is that they all work passionately in a sector
He should put on a tutu, walk down to Newtown and put on a Suzie Ormond impersonation for the arts sector on how to survive
called “contemporary dance”.
Members of this community are politically sensitised and this is often reflected in their work. Their productions tackle issues of identity, sexual violence, land ownership, HIV and global warming.
Apart from the political relevance of their work, they have also created an aesthetic and artistic vocabulary that in many ways is uniquely South African, but never insular.
Their intersection with the global arts community is rich, complex and dynamic. Their work is textured and layered and they move with new developments in artistic experimentation. They embrace digital technology with ease and integrate it into their dance in a natural way.
Simply put, contemporary dance in South Africa can stand its ground on any international stage. And Johannesburg’s contemporary dance community also has strong networks across the African continent.
Given such an amazing track record of achievement and accolades, one would expect that the contemporary dance community would be one of the city’s most fêted cultural groups. But it is not.
In fact, members of the contemporary dance community feel left out — and quite embittered — that the City of Joburg has allocated a grant of R8-million to relaunch the South African Mzansi Ballet, now to be known as Joburg Ballet. Members of the contemporary dance sector were hoping that they would also get a slice of the cake.
Although I empathise with some of their frustrations, I am ecstatic that Joburg Ballet’s CEO, Dirk Badenhorst, has been successful in winning the city’s support for his ballet company.
Badenhorst has a track record as a fearless, adventurous and savvy arts manager. He dresses like a bank manager, has the firm handshake of an investment broker, discusses contracts like a legal intern and uses social media like a digital guru. With all of that, he also knows how to dance, choreograph and find audiences.
It is not so much the classical from the contemporary or the Eurocentric from the Afrocentric that differentiates Badenhorst from the rest of the crowd; it is rather the way Badenhorst does business with the arts.
And there is nothing wrong with doing business with the arts. Good business creates employment. It attracts more patrons, more funders and grant-makers. It makes the arts more sustainable.
Badenhorst also knows how to negotiate the complex space in which politicians hover. He shakes their hands with the same fervour with which he shakes the hands of his corporate sponsors.
When he engages with cultural representatives at embassies, he envelops them with his diplomatic charm.
I should know, because I worked at the US embassy with a team that decided to offer him a grant to observe cultural leadership practices in the US.
Badenhorst did more than just observe. He networked and built relationships that could serve him.
He probably did the same with bureaucrats, administrators and politicians from the City of Joburg.
He would have brought them into rehearsals and explained to them the difference between an adagio and a cabriole. He would have taken them to his numerous outreach programmes in the townships.
Although some may criticise him for running a company that has mostly white dancers, Badenhorst’s outreach programmes attract hundreds of young black dancers who will become the future members of his company, or will be some of the people sitting in his audiences.
Badenhorst has grasped that transformation is a process and not the quick, fast papering of an auditorium with a busload of township kids on the nights that funders attend a show.
If I were a bureaucrat in the City of Joburg, I too would have given the thumbs up for the R8-million grant.
It is a responsible way of spending ratepayers’ contributions to the city. Having said that, I would still question what we could do to prevent contemporary dance from feeling like a Cinderella.
I know what I would do. I would gather the contemporary dance sector in Johannesburg and work towards establishing a city-funded dance consortium with a streamlined management, administration and marketing machinery.
At the moment, the sector is wasting too much energy on maintaining a bureaucracy and administration that is largely made up of passionate and talented artists who have bruised egos and inadequate business management skills.
Perhaps Badenhorst needs to be more daring. He should put on a tutu, walk down to Newtown and do a Suzie Ormond impersonation for the arts sector on how to survive wisely.
Mahomed is the artistic director of the National Arts Festival. He writes in his personal capacity