Artists must rediscover edginess amid freedom
Apathy is stifling performing arts in SA, which should be courageous and ready to upset, writes Ismail Mahomed
THE dawn of democracy promised a landscape in which artistic freedoms would thrive. The new constitution offered hope that censorship would be buried, never to return. It also promised increased access to the arts, and artists hoped that it would translate into a fast-growing arts economy from which money would rain down.
Artists, in general, have creative imaginations. Few have the acumen to grab the bull by the horns.
In most cases, those who had the stamina to toyitoyi with “culture as a weapon of the struggle” have realised in post-apartheid South Africa that the fruits of culture are a lot juicier when eaten at a boardroom table.
Art during the apartheid years was volatile and edgy. But in post-apartheid South Africa, most artists have failed to grasp the freedoms accorded them by the constitution.
Rare voices have stood out. Playwright Mike van Graan, satirist Pieter-Dirk Uys, dramatist Mpumelelo Paul Grootboom and creative genius Lara Foot-Newton lead a small pack of people in the performing arts who woke up on the morning after the first election and refused to become the new government’s praise singers.
Long before the neon lights in South Africa’s rainbow began to flicker and fade, this small pack of playwrights shone the spotlight on the scars and wounds that were turning septic on the belly of the new South Africa.
The majority of our playwrights, however, churned out quick-fix romanticised stories about racial reconciliation or badly conceived plays about HIV/Aids. The latter could get easy funding.
Theatres that once nurtured their audiences with protest plays were hard hit by the lifting of the cultural boycott — and the resulting influx of Broadway and West End musicals.
The Market Theatre and the Newtown precinct in which it sits, once the artistic hub of Johannesburg, has not fully recovered from the departure of its once loyal audiences to the north in search of more escapist entertainment. Its recovery was not made any easier by its funding woes.
Under James Ngcobo, succes- sor to long-time artistic director Malcolm Purkey, the phoenix has yet to rise. His task may be made a little easier by renewed funding for the theatre and renewed development in Newtown. But it will take determination to reposition the theatre as a leader in celebrat- ing artists who have the resilience to hold their fist up against the very government on which they are almost solely dependent for funding.
Ngcobo’s talents as a creative director are celebrated locally and abroad. He is charismatic. His passion for theatre is in almost every breath he takes. And he has John Kani, one of South Africa’s most respected actors, with him as a brand ambassador for the Market.
With their reputations, and gifted with public funding, there is optimism in the arts sector that the Market Theatre will find the courage to reclaim its title as the creator of provocative theatre.
Kani’s most recent work, Missing, is a bold step to hold a mirror up to a leadership increasingly corrupted by greed and self-enrichment. But the play premiered at Cape Town’s Baxter Theatre, not the Market.
Newtown was once a magnet for cultural trendsetters and intellectuals, whose melding gave birth to many wonderful initiatives. South Africa’s leading contemporary dance festival was one such baby. This dynamic forum, driven by its stoic artistic director, Georgina Thomson, has put many of our choreographers and dancers on international stages.
Long before it became fashionable for cross-racial and nonracial casting, Dance Umbrella led the way. The demographics have always been mixed — even among its audiences.
This festival originated under apartheid and was a showcase of what was possible in the new South Africa. Instead, a lack of public funding and a lack of vision by government arts bureaucrats mean this internationally recognised festival is on the brink of closure.
Those who had the stamina to toyitoyi have realised the fruits of culture are a lot juicier when eaten at a boardroom table
Johannesburg’s city fathers should be fighting tooth and nail to save a festival that has unearthed internationally celebrated talents such as Gregory Maqoma, Vincent Mantsoe, Dada Masilo, Robyn Orlin, Steven Cohen and Mamela Nyamza. Instead, they have decided to support the city’s ballet company, headed by Dirk Badenhorst, a maestro in the art of charming funders and arts bureaucrats.
A city such as Johannesburg, which claims to be a world-class destination, shouldn’t be choosing between ballet and contemporary dance. It should be supporting both.
The challenges facing Dance Umbrella are repeated at arts projects nationwide.
Although many of the Mzanzi Golden Economy proposals championed by Paul Mashatile are still a long way from being implemented, he has demonstrated that he has been one of South Africa’s most hard-working arts and culture ministers, who seems to have connected with his constituency.
However, municipal theatres remain dark for most of the year, or they are used for hosting weddings and birthday parties while artists continue to create work in garages or school classrooms in the hope that their work will reach the festival circuit.
Theatre festivals have grown significantly in the past 20 years. But this is not as good as it sounds: closer inspection reveals that the majority are language exclusive and, to a large extent, their demographics do not reflect what a new South Africa ought to look like.
Each year, a new Afrikaans festival seems to emerge. Their stages are used extensively as platforms for expressing the angst of young Afrikaners who are grappling with issues of identity and the sins of their fathers.
On the other hand, African-language based festivals receive hardly any media coverage, even less corporate funding and, to a large extent, are stuck showcasing tribal differences rather than celebrating diversity.
In recent years, the National Arts Festival in Grahamstown has forged strong alliances with international festivals. The result is an increase in the number of independent South African producers showcasing work abroad and winning major accolades.
The Baxter Theatre’s production of Mies Julie, directed by Yael Farber in 2012, will begin its third year of international touring in August. Along the way, it has scooped almost every major international arts accolade.
South Africa’s young opera singer Pretty Yende and outstanding young choreographer Dada Masilo are also taking the world by storm.
In recent months, when the national dialogue has been about President Jacob Zuma’s Nkandla homestead or attempts to silence the public protector, there has been hardly a whimper from arts organisations.
Some of this can be attributed to apathy, but as artists who have become so accustomed to creating works with the help of A city such as Johannesburg shouldn’t be choosing between ballet and contemporary dance. It should be supporting both arts funding, their silence can also be attributed to a fear of biting the hand that feeds it.
Making contemporary art has never been a gentleman’s game. Art must have the courage to pluck out the ugliness that sometimes resides inside dark crevices and put it in the foreground so that the picture that is painted portrays reality.
It must be courageous and ready to upset its subject. It must engage an audience that will either agree or disagree with it. It must know that selfcensorship is a cancer.
Despite some challenges , it is impossible to deny that South Africa is undoubtedly a far better country now for artists and audiences than it was two decades ago.
This must be a time for artists to reflect on the freedoms they can now enjoy — but they must also reflect on how they should reinvigorate their stifled voices to speak out against the rot that has crept in — a rot that is putrefying our hard-earned freedoms and our democracy.
Mahomed is the artistic director of the National Arts Festival. He writes in his personal capacity