I disagree with poet Robert Frost who believes "Good fences make good neighbours". I think high fences in suburbs, while keeping out undesirables, don't help with building relationships with those living close by.

I am a strong campaigner for neighbourhood pride, and get involved in structures which help to develop a sense of community spirit in my village of Glenwood. Feeling good about one's suburb ticks so many boxes – a sense of unity and well-being, improved safety and security, cleaner and better managed public spaces, supportive social infrastructure and generally a nicer place to live and bring up a family.

I like that I can walk through familiar roads, am on first name terms with staff in local shops, businesses, the bank, nearby restaurants and coffee shops.

I like it that I choose my vegetables from the back of a family-owned old green truck which visits our road every Thursday morning. I like it that the flower sellers in Devenport Square understand about opening night flowers to be taken to the theatre. I like it that my hairdresser, Gary Nel, is willing to give me a "do" out of office hours if I have a posh function to go to. I like it that in our neighbourhood, we have a community carol service at Christmas; regular fetes, festivals and markets; Saturday afternoon pink gin and jazz at the bowling club, and family play dates in Bulwer Park. I like it that we greet the community police people who are stationed in our block. In my road, we all learned to dance the waka-waka one Saturday morning; we draped our trees and painted flags on our walls. When neighbours bake muffins, they pass them across the fence.

In September, the Glenwood Community Forum hosted their annual Glenwood Festival which fell under the city's Celebrate Durban initiative. The street festival was a wonderful evening. The concept of "Proudly Glenwood" became a mantra with musicians like Ewok (Iain Robinson) crowing about the benefits of "neighbhourhood" during his set on stage.

In Glenwood, Ewok, eventor and community campaigner Darryl Hoffmann, the Corner Café's Judd Campbell, Gloria Hoff and Bren Brophy from the KZNSA Gallery; and James Martens and the volunteers on the Community Forum are all community "heroes", and jointly play a huge role in getting Glenwood to buzz.

Sure, the level of commitment from educators, faith leaders, politicians and business people help to define a community, but the arts practioners have a huge role to play in being ambassadors and publicly helping to create a neighbourhood's character. A perfect example is Pieter-Dirk Uys and his astonishingly creative initiatives in helping to put the Western Cape village of Darling onto the global map.

Closer to home, storyteller Gcina Mhlophe is proudly Bluff and is supported by drama teacher Jean van Elden who spearheads many great green-initiatives and cultural happenings in the Bluff Eco Park. Kickstart's Greg King and Steven Stead, and actors Janna Ramos Violante and Rowan Bartlett have all settled in the Bluff and their work helps to define their suburb's public persona.

Similarly the Snyman family and award winning dancer Jarryd Watson's personal narratives have become intertwined with their home, Wentworth. The Nokwe family, and Edmund Mhlongo and Xolani Majozi and their Ekhaya Multi Arts Centre have added huge value to the perception of KwaMashu. Theatre producer Roland Stansell and his tireless work at the Rhumbelow Theatre has spilled out into the broader community of Umbilo, as has Neil and Nicola Comfort's tenacity and resilience in keeping the Rainbow Restaurant and Jazz Club alive in Pinetown.

Helping to support this process is citizen journalism, social media and a plethora of community newspapers. What was previously considered to be small neighbhourhood events, now can get formal media coverage.

Suddenly it becomes feasible and possible to host art events in neighbourhoods and generate public interest. One can do soirees in homes; poetry in coffee shops; music concerts in school fields; parades through suburban roads; art exhibitions in shopping centres; craft markets in neighbourhood parks, film screenings in classrooms and club-houses, and story-times in unusual places. Bookshops, church halls and schools can become a meaningful hub of cultural activity.

Formal civic structures are all too aware of the importance of developing compassionate, sustainable and proactive communities. Imagine Durban, the Priority Zone, neighbourhood watch bodies, community forums and faith structures all support the basic concept of good neighbourliness.

As cities become decentralized, and as we become reluctant to stray too far from the safety of our homes; as we search for connections, meaning and look for interesting things to do – start by exploring what is happening within a five km radius of your home. It is easy enough to get on mailing lists and facebook groups in order to be kept in the loop and know what is going on.

I love it! "Proudly Glenwood" I should get T-shirts printed.

A muffin any one?

I have seen some astonishing theatre in the last few weeks – small intimate stories of extraordinary moments. And in most instances I was among a handful of people in the audience.

How weepingly disappointing to experience such profound theatrical magic – with empty seats in the house. And how do we begin the conversation of encouraging people to experience what is theatrically virgin territory.

Those of us who work in the industry hold onto a belief that whoever is in the audience – no matter how many or how few – it is perfect. The experience becomes more intimate and cosy in a smaller venue, with a sprinkling of people. Often the experience for the audience and performer is more profound on a small scale than in an Opera House or City Hall. The tragedy then, is mostly a financial one. We live in an era of hugely diminished arts funding, so box-office returns are essential. Performing to a small audience then becomes financially catastrophic – irrespective of the intimacy of the theatrical experience.

Some will remember Jay Pather's watershed 2002 season – Cityscapes – in which Pather explored making performance work for non-traditional spaces – a journey which would guide his work for years to come. He created a dance performance in a bedroom in the Albany Hotel: two dancers performing an intimate, intriguing and poignant pas de deux, vigorously dancing between two single hotel beds, a bedside table and narrow wardrobe. Capacity audience was about ten people, cautiously seated on tiny chairs around the perimeter of the room. The intensity was claustrophobic – but then perhaps that was the whole point.

I had a not dissimilar experience a week or so ago - this time at the Elizabeth Sneddon Theatre watching Jo Strømgren Kompani performing The Border - an equally quirky, tender, complex, beautiful, angry two hander physical theatre piece from Norway. Simultaneously vicious and funny, familiar and uncomfortable – made more so by the fact that we were in the front row... without too many people behind us.

Both of these experiences were "perfect" – Pather intended only for ten people to see the Albany Hotel piece, and The Border was free – so income wasn't an issue, and the audience totally loved the piece anyway.

What was probably more of a challenge in terms of long term financial sustainability was the box-office returns on the inaugural I ♥ Durban Theatre Festival held at UKZN's Howard College Campus last weekend. The festival was totally beautiful. Applause to the amazing Janna Ramos Violante and her tenacious team, and an ovation to Kickstart for helping to finance the project. I was enchanted – from the fairy-lights in the trees, to the leafy walkways lit by candles-in-paper-bags, to the tasteful Cucumber and Caviar refreshment grotto bedecked with feathers and beads in the Open Air theatre, and to the venues themselves – it was theatrical heaven. I should have brought along a hammock, hung it among the trees and not left campus all weekend.

The productions were self-contained, small intimate personal stories all delicately rendered:
Callum's Will was brave in its stillness; Birdman was a charming story beautifully-told; Prodigal was a breathtaking performance and a heartbreaking story, and Shikaland was delicious and engaging. There was an electric frisson in the air among so much astounding original Durban talent. To watch premiere after premiere was a real thrill. I think I had a goofy grin on my face solidly from Thursday to Sunday.

I was just heartbroken that there were empty seats in the theatres, chilled wine left in the fridges and fabulous food uneaten in the Open Air Theatre.

Is it because people are anxious of exploring what is new? Is it more comfortable to support what is safe and recommended? We need audiences to be pioneers – to push the comfort zones of tried and tested familiarity and taste the excitement of seeing innovative work sometimes in unusual spaces.

We are hopeful that the I ♥ Durban Theatre Festival will come back next year, and we know that the annual PANSA Musho Theatre Festival of One and Two Person Theatre comes to the Catalina in January, that the Playhouse presents their New Stages programme periodically, and that campus theatre staged by DUT and UKZN drama departments offers quite extraordinary theatrical experiences. All that is sometimes lacking is thoughtful, engaging, proactive audiences to complete the equation.

To quote the mantra of a running-shoe brand – Just Do It! Perhaps one of the days there will be a whole bunch of us in our hammocks under the trees on campus binging on new theatre – all having such a joyous time that we don't want to leave.

We have just enjoyed one of this region's highlights of the cultural calendar, the annual Witness Hilton Arts Festival: three days of glorious visual and performing arts; workshops, and crafts - a weekend that was simultaneously challenging, stimulating and satisfying.

This year, for the first time in the 19 year history of the festival, there was a head-on clash between politics and art. The inclusion of three productions and two play-readings by a theatre company from Israel, supported by the Embassy of Israel in Pretoria and Tararam (the South African Israeli cultural fund), led to a heated media debate and call to boycott the festival.

I don't want to use this platform to add my voice to the conversation around Israeli policies and the global cultural and academic boycott. Instead this serves as a departure point to ponder on the complex, murky and uncomfortable relationship between politics and art.

The arts are a vital tool in communicating political ideologies and agendas – perhaps less in recent times with such sophisticated media networks and immediate access to limitless information - but certainly they have played a crucial role historically.

Music, theatre, literature, poetry and the visual arts helped shape and inform the evolution of global societies, politics and opinions. Major situations of conflict and oppression have given rise to profound images and passionate art.

"Whether it is live theatre, visual art or even a humble form of craft-art with which we engage, we can never escape the compelling questions about how that piece of work is connected to our humanity. Art engages us emotionally, intellectually and socially. Through our engagement with it, we form our own perspectives that we can use as social and political tools," reflects Ismail Mahomed, Director of the National Arts Festival, writing in his personal capacity.

There are dozens of current examples of arts and politics colliding: the banning of struggle song Dubul iBhunu / Shoot the Boer; the city's response to Andries Botha's elephant sculptures; the royal household's condemnation of his King Shaka statue and government's response to many of Zapiro's cartoons.

The flip side of that same relationship is that Negema's musicals, Kentridge's art, Fugard's plays, Dirk Uys's satire and many other art-makers, have helped to shift, navigate and define our country's evolution.

Art and politics may make for uneasy bedfellows, but is there ever a way of the two engaging more meaningfully? As the eternal optimist, are there other ways of doing things perhaps?

Perhaps I am hopelessly naive, but I think there could be opportunities for alternative ways of addressing opposing political views in an arts context. I don't think the most effective way of creating awareness and support of any issue is through the traditional forms of protest: picketing, placards, boycotts and petitions. Nor do I think that using the media as the conduit between opposing viewpoints is the most helpful way of communicating.

Take the Hilton Festival example, multi-dimensional artist, Iain Ewok Robinson responded to the call from anti-Israel activists, and partially boycotted the festival. He performed in Kickstart's God of Carnage, but cancelled his schools' workshop and his one man show.

I am not sure how effective this action was. I am not sure if people attending the Hilton Festival left with a better understanding of the complex situation in Israel because of Ewok's choices.

Is it not worth considering rather than cancelling a one man show, using the opportunity of an empty stage, a microphone and an audience as a platform to engage with the audience about the issues? Would it not be possible to find spaces within the festival to creatively examine some of these challenges, both in terms of the Israeli situation, but also to grapple with the relationship and role of arts and politics in a post-apartheid South Africa? There could be a panel discussion; a Q&A session; a public interview with the Israeli performers; screening of pertinent documentaries etc.

The arts, in their myriad complexities, have the most astonishing ability to educate, engage and heal. It allows for empathy, understanding and reconciliation and it enables us to engage with both sides of a story. So I believe that if managed carefully arts and politics could find a common thread and present differing political ideologies in a proactive and helpful way. We need to create forums for dialogue and we need both sides of the artistic, political and intellectual debate to be presented.

Isn't that better than patrons arriving at a theatre venue to find a "show cancelled" sign at the door?

Vandalism pisses us off! Tagging without permission is not OK! Words of an archetypal Mother Grundy? No actually, these are the vehement words of one of Durban's active mural artists.

Yet another interesting arts-themed debate is happening in classrooms, at dinner tables and, no doubt, in City Hall. Interspersed with "the" elephants and "the" King Shaka statue, strong opinions are being held, and voices are being raised around graffiti - is it vandalism, or is it art and what is to be done?

So much of the public perception and media reporting reads like a sensationalist B-Grade comic. It conjures up images of the recent London riots: violent hooded thugs - no rules, no respect, no skill, no boundaries and no sense of community. We associate graffiti with the lost generation - our worst social fears personified...

So yes, in the world of graffiti – you get all types: the irritating taggers, the disrespectful unlawful vandals and the bloke with the spray can who keeps blacking out the new names on the road signs.

You also get collectives of law-abiding, community-spirited, artistically-adept mural artists who are thoroughly irritated with having to counteract the negative perceptions of their chosen art-form, and who truly want to educate, engage and create.

"We cannot expect the public to know any different if their only access to information about graffiti is the mainstream public media. No wonder they believe spray cans equal crime and vandalism," bemoans multi-media visual and performance artist, Ewok. "Artists are described collectively as a gang which has such negative connotations! We are consciously trying to reclaim public spaces in an act of beauty and sharing with the community,"

The latest incident of conflict, took place a few weeks ago when a crew of art-makers gathered to honour the memory of Wesley Fisher who was killed when hit by a truck. For the past three years, the group paid tribute to his memory annually with a united day-long art-jam at the spot where the incident happened in Sydney Road. Information about this event is in the public domain, so it was easy for police to intervene, and they arrested members of "the gang" and the authorities are subsequently pursuing a malicious damage to property case.

Joseph Sciorra – who documented New York's spray can memorials, adds a valuable insight into the debate: "Memory is triggered by contact with the objects and places associated with past events. We erect monuments at these epicentres of suffering and sorrow in order to appease the voices who demand that we bear witness to their pain and horror,"

Perhaps if city officials understood this, they would be more sympathetic to a group of art makers paying tribute to their friend.

A creative solution needs to be found to respond to the blanket condemnation of graffiti and wall art. Art-makers should sit across the table from city officials and media representatives, share stories, discuss opportunities, find solutions and re-assess legal boundaries. Try and understand all points of view and move forward in a way appropriate for all parties. If walls are identified and made into "legal" public art walls, then surely that would ultimately be a way of managing the current impasse.

Tagging and arbitrary spray paint "vandalism" is unlawful and is a monumental nuisance, but managed public art which comes out of a negotiated settlement can beautifully communicate our rich cultural heritage and make art relevant to a generation who won't necessarily spend their Saturday afternoons visiting galleries.

There are opportunities to engage further on this subject: at the Hilton Arts Festival next weekend, Ewok is performing Rapped in Truth a spoken word poetry performance; and two acclaimed documentaries will be shown: Metro X which examines the extreme sport of parkour (or free running) through the streets of Cape Town; and Exit through the Gift Shop which is a brilliant documentary about graffiti and street art purists coming into conflict with a wily operator who manages to spin graffiti-inspired art into a hugely successful but artistically dubious commercial operation.

Look out for a variation of the Arts Bus: The Crime Scene Tour – a full morning's guided tour aimed at educating and informing the public on the underground art movement in Durban. Let's hope the city officials hop on board!

CAPTION:
RIP – Ewok's spray can memorial to Durban music legend, Syd Kitchen, on the Corner Cafe wall in Glenwood's Brand Rd.

Life is like a film set sometimes – glossy, intact and perfect on the surface, but strike it and it crumbles. My colleague had an unsettling experience a few days back. Driving out of a parking space in our nearby shopping mall, he bumped a pedestrian. Not hard, no physical damage, but enough to startle both of them. This honest accident became an ugly racial encounter with the victim becoming verbally abusive. Voices were raised, police were called, bystanders joined the fray... and my co-worker returned to the office emotionally shattered.

Watching the international news one gets a sense of similarly engrained emotions: an isolated incident triggering off a catastrophic domino effect – right now in London, recently in Norway and regularly in Africa.

Why do we have a superficially functioning relationship with the people whom we come into contact with, but at the drop of a hat, a myriad deeply engrained and superficially denied prejudices rise instantly to the fore?

Having binged on an array of Durban International Film Festival movies and having "done" the Grahamstown festival last month, this theme regularly emerges in different guises. The sense of "us" and "them" is heartbreakingly difficult – gay vs straight; Christian vs Muslim; young vs old; black vs white; conservative vs liberal; rich vs poor; able-bodied vs differently abled.... at what point does compassion and understanding authentically cross historically-created divides? And what role do the creative industries play in addressing these issues?

Two beacons stand out in current Durban arts circles, and our response to them both is interesting. One is the (perceived) Inkatha Freedom Party vs African National Congress divide as illustrated by Andries Botha's tragic elephants. Once an intended symbol of African wisdom, environmental consciousness and historical awareness; certain civic leaders have misguidedly interpreted the incomplete elephant sculptures as representing their arch rival, Inkatha. Of course nothing could be further from the truth. They are part of a narrative which transcends party politics, but the city's poor handling of the situation has embedded the "us" and "them" so deeply that it is probably close on impossible to ever calmly resolve.

Botha gave a poetic, impassioned presentation at an evening forum around Censorship and the Arts at DUT recently. The city, represented by tireless arts champion Eric Apelgren, explained that perhaps some of the city officials didn't fully understand Botha's symbolism. Their association with elephants begins and ends with the IFP logo.

Getting stuck on the "us" and "them" of perceived ANC / Inkatha party differences means that the elephants are still under wraps. They may have a clean cage adorned with yellow ribbons, but they remained imprisoned and incomplete despite tireless campaigning, endless media attention and support from the local arts community.

The other horrifying sense of "us" and "them" was evidenced during the fabulous world class musical Cabaret the opening of which I attended last week. Poignant, beautiful, sumptuous and harrowing, the battle lines are drawn between the "us" (rank and file residents of pre World War II Berlin) vs "them" (the rapidly-rising Nazis). Sitting in the audience, the solution is clear. With the benefit of hindsight one wants to yell advice to the characters on stage. "See your fellow Germans for what they are, don't pigeon-hole your friends and neighbours in boxes of race, religion and background. Don't judge – forgive; don't prejudice – accept; don't hate – love," but of course we know from history that this advice falls on deaf ears.

I did the PR for the World Methodist Conference last week. A stunning, amazing, exhausting and beautiful experience. Leaders from 74 member Methodist / Wesley churches and organisations from more than 132 countries, met for the first time in Durban. I sat through intense sessions of theology and ecumenical debate. Through it all, there were moments of total affirmation and joy. One of which was during the opening ceremony, when Sheikh Rafeek Hassen from the African Muslim League, came to offer the Methodists greetings and blessings. As far as I can make out, it is the first time that a non Christian has done this at this forum. My heart soared. It soared higher when the delightful Archbishop Elias Chacour spoke about the churches' role in reconciliation between Arabs and Israelis; and higher still in a session ran by a charming, witty articulate Australian minister who heads the standing committee for Ecumenics and Dialogue. Quietly under the radar, Senior Methodist leaders globally are building bridges with Anglicans, Catholics, Lutherans and Salvationists. Faith leaders are breaking down the "us" and the "them."

If only we would seriously listen to our progressive arts-makers, and enlightened faith-leaders. If only we would endeavour not to be blinded by historically-engrained prejudice, then perhaps bumping a pedestrian in a suburban car park would mean two strangers would connect and support each other, rather than enforce archaic stereotypes which bruises our soul and undermines our humanity.


Illa Thompson

I have a bit of a cerebral mind-crush on Bobby Godsell. These days he is chairman of Business Leadership SA (BLSA). When I met him two years ago he was facing flak for heading up Eskom. He gave a lecture as part of the ThinkFest lecture series at the 2009 National Arts Festival in Grahamstown about Harnessing Africa's Potential. He combined charm, diplomacy and tenacity in winning over a somewhat difficult audience asking awkward, often anecdotal questions. Apart from being an astute, outspoken and insightful leader, he is also an ardent student of philosophy which is evident in his approach to business and economics.

I was delighted, enthralled and challenged. In fact I was so profoundly moved by his lecture that I pleaded with Hilton Festival boss Sue Clarence to bring him to Hilton so I could hear him again, and encourage other festival-goers to spend an hour in his remarkable company.

So it is with more than passing interest that I read that he is leading businesses in taking a long-awaited stand against the wild-card that is Malema and his harmful rantings in favour of nationalising the mines. Malema's pro-nationalisation rhetoric is beginning to have majorly harmful consequences in terms of sustainable international investment into South Africa. Godsell is leading the campaign on behalf of capitalism to try and curtail the damage.

Articles quoting Godsell always make for interesting food for thought – wisdom and common sense are all too scarce a commodity these days. But in reading about the pending BLSA / ANCYL war of words, a sentence of Godsell's stuck in my throat: He said there was a "challenge at this time for South Africans in business, civil society, the churches and government itself to be courageous and forthright and candid in our views about how to secure our future,"

"But what about The Arts!" I yell at the open newspaper and my sleeping cat.

Surely the arts should be on that list? Surely they have a role to play together with the faith communities, civil society and businesses? Or have they become so self-serving, tame and marginalised that they are no longer considered a player in shaping the minds of our people regarding how to see the future? I experienced what Zapiro calls "a sharp intake of breath" with Godsell's words.

He went onto say "In a democracy you need to make your voice heard, protect your interest and help define what is in the public interest so that the public interest becomes not only that of politicians."

"But that is exactly the role of The Arts in an emerging democracy, surely!" I exclaim to my now-awake cat. Presumably we are not doing a particularly effective job, or else we would be in Godsell's list of stakeholders and bodies of influence. We are conspicuous by our absence, once again our silence is deafening.

I have seen such immensely powerful theatre of late – talking in different ways to some of these implied issues: Kickstart's God of Carnage spoke about how adult debate without boundaries, can go horribly wrong. There was immense lessons to be learned in all of the Just in Time Productions's pieces: Belly of the Beast spoke about justice and forgiveness; Sitting Round the Fire is about salvation found in unlikely places; A Plague of Heroes speaks against the intoxication of the gangster lifestyle and the need for integrity and true heroism and uThembalethu- Tshepang talks powerfully about conscience and community.

These few current examples are from spoken word theatre – there are no doubt countless similar examples in contemporary South African literature, poetry, film, art, photography, music and comedy. So why then is art considered on the fringes of society? We never used to be. Prior to 1994, the arts were hugely respected: we were in the social spotlight; we were centre stage, not in the chorus. Pre 1994, Bobby Godsell would have The Arts on his list.

Thankfully Pieter Dirk Uys refuses to be silent; Zapiro and Nanda Soobben's cartoons still hit a nerve; Mike van Graan is prolific in every medium; Fugard is still writing important plays; Freshly Ground's lyrics are worth listening to; William Kentridge's art is uncompromising; a host of able photographers keep era-defining images fresh in our minds, and Greg Streak and Andries Botha are like terriers in not letting go of the Great Public Art Humiliation. But the list of our community's ambassadors, spokespeople and icons, is disturbingly short.

As a community – we need to hold onto hope; let our creativity challenge power; offer intelligent and artistic solutions and refuse to be silent. Silence means complicity – and artists should by definition make a stand, and never be wallpaper.

Taking a break from stewing over global economics and feel grumpy that we did not appear on Bobby Godsell's list, I sat in on a rehearsal of the totally charming and wholly delightful holiday production, Seussical and was reminded (in rhyme) by the inimitable Dr Seuss: "Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better. It's not."


Illa Thompson

Complacency makes one parochial – especially artistically. One needs to constantly strive for new inspiration, ideas, role models and innovations.

I had a thoroughly inspiring weekend in Cape Town just recently. Of course it is a favourite place to go - more so, for us in the arts. I for one suffer from undercover Mother City envy – not because of the mountain, or wine or great eateries - although that is part of it of course. But because of the city's seeming enlightened approach to the arts, and the visionary art makers who live and work there.

I saw two astonishing productions in two very different venues. I went to the glorious Fugard theatre for the first time to see the new Fugard play: The Bird Watchers. The space is incredible. What I wouldn't give to have a similar space to work in here in Durban - two converted buildings cleverly and beautifully morphed into one. A deconsecrated church is their rehearsal space: phenomenal height, beautiful light, wooden floors buffed and gleaming, Titanic-type fold-up chairs around the perimeter, and bare red brick walls. And its neighbour is the three-tiered intimate performance space. As far as evocative theatrical spaces go – this is my new favourite. Pre-Cape Town trip it was the beautiful studio in which speech-therapist Lionel Logue (Geoffrey Rush) practised in the delicious Oscar winning movie, The King's Speech. But that has now been demoted to second place.... The Fugard theatre is simultaneously industrial and elegant, cavernous and cosy. The staff are obliging and friendly - by the end of the evening we were on first name terms with the programme seller, FOH team and technical intern - who jointly made us feel special and welcome.

The Bird Watchers was phenomenal. Sean Taylor has become Athol Fugard. The poignant story is about friendship, dreams and time; about words not said and roles not performed... and about watching birds. Fugard's work has become profound, layered and dense. The simplicity of his earlier masterpieces has evolved into complex symbol-rich parables which can only be told towards the end of a full life well lived.

We also cracked the nod to go to the opening night of Jesus Christ Superstar. My frame of reference for this watershed 70's rock opera is Geoffrey Sutherland's masterpiece which was staged at a time when our city led the field nationally in terms of redefining the concept of the grande musical. NAPAC, with Sutherland at the helm of musical theatre innovation, staged the record-breaking trilogy (Candide, Sweet Charity and Sweeney Todd) and invented the concept of celebrating the music of Queen through music and dance. His JC Superstar was era-defining and flawless in every way. At the time I thought that I really never wanted to see another version ever again. But after seeing many performances of the Durban Passion Play, over Easter this year, I wanted to again be reminded of the profound story of Christ's last days – this time told through music.

Keith Anderson's inventive design coupled with Paul Warwick Griffin's smooth direction and a cleverly-chosen cast meant that the experience was more than I could have hoped for. The design and lighting of the crucifixion scene took the audience's breath away: centre stage is an enormous dramatically-lit cross made of Perspex blocks which frames the simple wooden cross which rises seamlessly from a horizontal to its upright vertical position.

Jonathan Roxmouth, a regular visitor to Durban, was an impressive conflicted Pilate, forever lurking in the shadows. He played opposite the vocally dexterous Cito as Jesus of Nazareth. Also surprisingly impressive was pop-star Nadine as Mary Magdalene.

The third production which I so badly wanted to see, but our weekend schedule wouldn't allow was Mass Appeal at The Theatre on the Bay. A carefully-written wry and funny two hander about an ideological, theological and philosophical difference of opinion between an established cleric played by Graham Hopkins and a youthful seminarian played by Clyde Berning.

I thought it would make for an interesting personal theatrical trilogy after seeing Birdwatchers and JC. It didn't work out, so we had tea with director Alan Swerdlow instead. We met at the Theatre on the Bay and Swerdlow pointed out a very clever concept. Theatre guru Pieter Toerien has built a block of sea-facing apartments alongside his theatre both as a venue for his out-of-town-actors to stay, and as an income generator for the theatre. What impressed me was the basement parking garage – an open space for perhaps ten or so cars, but well-lit and neat with theatre posters on the wall. Why? Because it doubles as a rehearsal space – actors and cars share the space, time-share style. How gob-smackingly clever is that!

A weekend of clever spaces, innovative ideas, charming people and amazing theatre. I left feeling replenished.

Would I move to Cape Town? Tempting as it is, I don't think so..... But I am already planning my next trip!

* Jesus Christ Superstar (pictured) is on at the Teatro, Montecasino in Johannesburg until 26 June
Performances: Tues – Fri @ 8pm, Sat @ 3pm & 8pm, Sun @ 3pm
Prices: R100 - R365
Bookings at the Theatre and Computicket (011) 511 1818


Illa Thompson

Holding hands across Africa is a concept not fully explored by the South African creative industries, so the regional launch of a civic body geared to assist artists to form connections across the continent, is a welcome addition to our networking opportunities.

The extended arts family was invited to the Arterial Network KZN launch last week, hosted by the ever-visionary Centre for Creative Arts.

Their membership form states that "Arterial Network is a continental network of artists, cultural activists, arts NGOs, cultural enterprises and arts workers committed to developing African music, dance, theatre, literature, craft, design, visual art and film in their own right and as a means to contribute to democracy, human rights and development in Africa."

A tall-order and surely an "ideal world" dream common to many of us working in the creative sector. Who wouldn't want to be able to hold hands across Africa and to move freely, learn widely and share ideas and platforms with fellow arts-makers across our continent?

Interestingly, in many instances, our connections are more firmly established with our counterparts in America, Europe and India, than they are in Africa. I am in contact with colleagues in the UK and US, but don't really have functioning relationships with peers in Nigeria or Morocco, for example. Hopefully Arterial Network may change that.

Arterial Network's vision is a lot more extensive than this, and is well explained on their comprehensive website, but their focus on reaching beyond our borders is what I find particularly exciting. With people being able to move more freely and integrate more readily, many of these connections are happening organically, but obviously a more formal structure in which to share connections would be hugely helpful.

Having Arterial Network on the KZN scene will also hopefully also by inference invigorate the veterans of arts networking – PANSA (the Performing Arts Network of South Africa) and her sister, VANSA (the Visual Arts Network of South Africa) who have faithfully being serving the performing and visual arts fraternities respectively for over a decade

I was in Johannesburg for the very first meeting of ad-hoc group of concerned theatre makers who would become the core of PANSA. The year 2000 was the culmination of years of poor implementation of post-1994 policy and poor management of the performing arts sector. The State Theatre was mothballed, orchestras were disbanded; arts NGOs closed down; theatres retrenched workers and arts councils began transforming from production houses to receiving houses. Against this background, PANSA was launched in Gauteng, Western Cape and KwaZulu Natal in June 2001 to create an organised voice to proactively advocate and protect the interests of the performing arts sector.

PANSA – and VANSA – have been doing sterling work for a decade. In Durban PANSA has developed the Musho theatre festival of one and two hander theatre; it project manages the annual Rainbow Young Performers' project; runs reading of new writing projects; arts savvy workshops and represents the arts community on a variety of forums. Similarly VANSA ran the astonishing 2010 Reasons to Live in a Small Town which saw Neil Coppen and Vaughn Sadie do some ground-breaking work in Dundee; and VANA KZN ran the fabulous Arts Bus (and later heritage bus) with the city council.

Increasingly, one of my favourite musicians working hard on the local circuit is charming French-Congolese singer Rene Tshiakanyi, who sings with equal vigour about his war-torn country, the absence of freedom of speech, repression of journalists... and falling in love. He has had to work really hard to establish connections among the industry here, having to negotiate in his charmingly-accented, recently-acquired and not quite fluent English. He lacks infrastructure and resources, and an understanding of our systems, networks and logistics. It is hard as an independent freelancer to make a name for oneself, more so if everything is pretty much unfamiliar.

Tshiakanyi is one of hundreds of arts practioners who want to share their skills and earn a living. Networks which have the infrastructure to connect and support people need to be applauded and supported. Only through working with our neighbours, sharing art, stories, drama and music with each other can we really grow in our understanding of each other's cultures.

Networks are important – in an industry peppered by eager and passionate, but hugely under resourced individuals who are self employed at best, and unemployed at worst, the only way to make a difference, is to hold hands.

• Arterial Network, PANSA and VANSA all have websites for more information.


Illa Thompson

Oh what joy to perform for the sheer love of it – to be able to sing, dance and act purely as an expression of passion; for the arts to be a hobby and a way of enjoying leisure time. What freedom! What bliss!

So much of my interaction with creative practitioners is with the professional end of the industry – talented people endeavouring to earn a living from their craft. This means being self-employed at best, and unemployed at worst. On a good day this is a difficult career path as work is inconsistent, prospects insecure and the industry is fickle. It is not for the faint-hearted. In an evolving South Africa, and in the context of a simmering global recession, being a professional in the creative industries is like walking through fire. You need bravery in buckets, a decisive head, a tenacious spirit and the ability to multi-task and box clever.

So it has been hugely rewarding for me to be currently immersed with, and captivated by, literally hundreds of people who are performing and creating for the sheer joyous love of it.

First up is the glorious Durban Passion Play. Close on 200 people are part of the company of this astonishing phenomenon. They are all volunteers – the actors, production team, crew, make-up artists, even the ever-obliging photographer, are giving up their time for no financial reward. And should the Passion Play make any profit, it gets given to charity. It is literally passion without payment.

Auditions were last August, and rehearsals started soon after – once or twice a week for virtually eight months. The commitment is astonishing; the dedication is remarkable. Rehearsals and family time become intertwined. No wonder entire multi-generational families sign up to be part of it. Bashful teenagers chat to octogenarians; toddlers in nappies play while parents perform; friendships are forged and romances initiated.

Chatting to the two gentle, humble young men who share the coveted role of Jesus – this process is life-changing. By day, Denzil Deane is a high school English teacher and Brett Montanari is a commercial interiors consultant. After hours they get to play one of the greatest icons in the history of the world. As far as hobbies go, that is pretty extreme.

There are bankers, lawyers, academics, distillers, brokers, professionals, students and pensioners all thrilled at the prospect of performing on the Playhouse stage and being part of telling the Christian story of Easter.

I had another taste watching Bizet's Carmen last week. Although the fabulous leads are professional opera singers, the chorus of 40 or so singers mostly have day jobs and sing for the love of it. For them, being factory workers, soldiers and Spanish villagers is most probably quite a thrill - men and women taking time out of their lives to be part of an opera chorus. Considering how seldom operas are staged in Durban – that opportunity is surely a rare treat.

Every Michaelmas one of my favourite projects is the annual ballroom and Latin American dance showcase – Shall We Dance! Being a particularly ungifted but moderately enthusiastic social dancer myself, I can so understand how important the role of giving part-time volunteer dancers the rare opportunity to perform in a respected professional arena. Being on stage, in costume under the lights, is dream-come-true stuff for many of the cast – especially if one's dancing is restricted to community halls away from the public eye.

Of course this same approach applies to school productions, church choirs, many writers, bands, musicians and visual artists. Also to some of the established theatre companies – one of the city's most proactive comedy outfits, Dingalings, is comprised of comedians most of whom have alternate careers. Many are in fact full-time educators. And for Roland Stansell, who runs the Rhumbelow, his theatre commitment is restricted to evenings and weekends.

Art is not necessarily a way of earning a living. There is no real pressure to succeed, to get good reviews, or even to play a meaningful role in the greater arts discourse. Instead it allows for a change of focus, an alternative and an escape. It could be about connecting with like-minded individuals, about extending one's own personal narrative, about achieving private life-goals and doing something which challenges, satisfies and feeds a need.

Whatever the reason, I applaud the energy and tenacity of those performing for passion.

What joy!!


Illa Thompson

There have been interesting conversations and daring initiatives in the last while among arts practioners in an attempt to harness younger audiences.

Globally, the movie marketers are obviously trying really hard to attract younger movie buffs. Presumably figures show that the download-generation are not necessarily choosing the big screen experience. The Oscar ceremony was a perfect example of consciously attempting to talk to the under 30's. The presenters, James Franco and Anne Hathway, were undeniably youthful and looked particularly handsome, but their evident discomfort coupled with their lack of experience, finesse and wit probably meant that the good intention of trying to attract a younger movie-going audience through the Oscars experience, didn't work.

And choosing the beautifully-crafted more traditional English drama, The King's Speech, to take home a fist-full of coveted awards over the more contemporary-themed The Social Network, didn't tick the youth box either.

Even during the inane red carpet frock parade - which is an integral part of the Oscars - veteran wit Joan Rivers left her tanned and toned younger co-hosts high-and-dry in the quest for the most acerbic and sharp couture commentary.

Closer to home, I have been part of conversations working towards selecting the production to be the Rainbow Young Performers Project this year. Ten years down the line, many of the obvious productions which appeal to a teenager market have been staged – so what should this year's production be?

Finding a show that appeals to the primary school and children's market is easy – the challenge is attempting to second-guess what teenagers may be keen to perform and support.

Hiring Justin Bieber, Miley Cyrus or Robert Pattinson to head the cast, is out of the realm of possibility; and no scripts yet exist for Twilight the Musical, Harry Potter Live; Tomb Raider with Tunes – or Spud the Stage Play. So what is the way forward?

I hear the same concerns among theatre marketers, literary promoters, civic organisations and faith bodies – how do we reach high school learners and post-matric students in any kind of sustainable and meaningful way?

Teenagers have always been an enigma – and now evolving technology has created a further divide between tehno-savvy young adults and the rest of the world. Technology has taken the 80s concept of "cocooning" to a whole new level – the key to entertainment, communication and social connectivity can be held in the palm of your hand. In the privacy of a teenager's bedroom, or with mates in a classroom, a whole cyber-world can be effortlessly reached. Against the backdrop of Facebook, Instant Messaging, Blu-Ray, HD, iTunes and a trusty blackberry – surely the concept of big screen movies or live theatre is archaic and redundant in the extreme.

And in a world of SMS shorthand and one-liner abbreviations, how can you possibly get your head around a three hour Shakespeare? Cinema Nouveau's National Theatre Live screened the sublime Sir Derek Jacobi in the hugely acclaimed Donmar Warehouse staging of King Lear recently, and a teenage girl leaving the cinema was overheard saying "I really don't think seeing that was helpful to my studies at all" How can you respond to that? One of the best theatre companies in the world staging one of the greatest plays of all time with one of the industry's best actors in the title role. How can that not assist a student studying Lear?

I don't suppose there is an easy answer – other than continuing to do work of a consistent quality and intelligence, and trusting that honesty and integrity will at some point have merit. I don't know how to get teenagers to see King Lear out of choice, or to choose The King's Speech over The Social Network. I don't know how to get young people to see live theatre in Durban, or to become activists and play a meaningful role in civic organisations and NGOs.

I do know that from a close association with people like Dr Nanda Soobben and Krish Moodley at the Centre for Fine Art, Animation and Design who have an amazing rapport with their funky arts students; the drama lecturers at DUT and UKZN who do astonishing sophisticated work with their emerging actors; Gcina Mhlope who transfixes young people with her stories; Darryl Hoffman whose Night Markets always attracts a youthful crowd of foodies; a host of really insightful high school teachers whom I am lucky to call friends; and my beloved Pieter Dirk Uys who can talk to halls full of high school learners about things that matter – that the insight, wisdom, energy and enthusiasm of the young, is beautiful. Communication is difficult, relationships are fraught, but we have no option but to find a way forward and to succeed.

Arts paractioners have to find a meaningful way of talking to the young – we have all seen Robin Williams in Dead Poets Society. Not to encourage young South Africans to embrace culture; engage with art; understand heritage and enjoy good theatre and films would be a tragedy. It is ultimately the arts which make us human and whole.


Illa Thompson

Arts and culture are supposed to bring us together – they are intended to heal, bind and nurture us as people. In a country with 11 official languages, this becomes logistically problematic sometimes – especially with works in the spoken-word.

Visual arts, music and dance in the most part are more accessible to the majority of South Africans as they traverse linguistic barriers. Guitarists speaking different mother tongues can find a way to connect through music in a way which poets and playwrights can't.

One of my most profound memories of the power of the arts was some years ago while working at one of the city's seasonal beach events. It was at a time when cultural divides were still enormous and the "New South Africa" was in its infancy. There was a ballroom dancing session in a huge marquee on the beach in which the organiser – a prim middle aged English speaking white woman - was teaching beach-goers elementary ballroom dance steps. At the end of the class there was an opportunity to practise what had been learned.

A municipal labourer – clad in heavy boots and standard blue overall – had been watching the session with more than passing interest. He boldly walked up to Mrs Prissy Dance Teacher and extended his right hand, inviting her to dance. It was one of those heart-stoppingly anxious moments which could either go horribly wrong or amazingly right. Mrs Dance Teacher, in her retro 80s dancing gear and big hair, took a deep breath, gave a well practised smile, took his hand and they danced – beautifully!

I have that image etched in my memory as a defining moment of the power of art in an evolving society. But I am also very aware that it was only possible because no words were needed.

This has become a point of discussion in different ways recently. In conversation with playwright Rajesh Gopie I asked if productions such as Coolie Odyssey or Out of Bounds could ever feasibly have a life in contemporary South African theatre if staged in any of the Indian languages spoken here, and if there was a place for authentic South African Indian stories to be told in languages other than English. He tended to think that there were simply no longer enough potential vernacular-speaking audience members to support such initiatives, and that the only Indian theatre that would be staged, would be in English.

I am helping with the PR around the commemoration of the 150th anniversary of the Methodist Indian Mission, the launch of which takes place this weekend. It seems that literacy and education of the indentured labourers from India was one of the core reasons why the Indian Mission in Natal came into being. 150 years ago Indian Methodists could worship in their mother tongue. Now almost none of the congregations in the Indian communities in Durban are able to do that. Church services are now conducted mostly in English.

Theatre producer Maurice Podbrey was hugely moved when he heard that theatre luminaries such as John Kani has never worked on a major full length play in his own language – only in English. I find these anecdotes hugely distressing. That with such a progressive constitution, we tend to still be so colonial and unskilled in our approach to language.

Podbrey has gathered around him isiZulu-speaking heavy-weights such as actor / writer / director Bheki Mkhwane and NthuthukoyabeNguni Khuzwayo from the Congress of Traditional Leaders to create a new theatre company, Just in Time Productions, to be launched in Durban in April committed to the development, presentation and marketing of indigenous theatre.

Included in their intended repertoire is uThembalethu-Tshepang. The multi award winning production written by Lara Foot harrowingly looks at baby rape. It toured extensively abroad and throughout South Africa in English, parts of the country in Afrikaans, and will be staged in Durban in isiZulu as uThebalethu.

Another interesting initiative is the Netherlands-sponsored Twist project which is nurturing theatre skills and sustainable theatre development with a focus on new writing. As part of the Performing Arts Network's Musho Festival of one and two person theatre recently, six short community productions were staged at the Catalina last month. What was heartening to see is that most of the productions were to some extent bi-lingual – with narrative weaving comfortably between English and isiZulu. Other Musho productions were also effectively multi-lingual. In the ground breaking Ouma, actor Sjaka Septembir spoke English as one character, Afrikaans as another. Even if one doesn't literally understand every word in multi-lingual productions, that's OK.

In fact my favourite ever Musho production was the astonishing Afrikaans play: Wraakengel . My Afrikaans isn't great, so I didn't really understand the nuances of the production, but that didn't diminish my enjoyment of the piece.

Attending the National Arts Festival in Grahamstown last year, some of the most memorable productions involved mime, mask-work and physical theatre – all clever devices to assimilate an accessible less language based vocabulary to allow for multi-lingual (and hearing impaired) audiences to enjoy the work – irrespective of their mother tongue.

As one of my opera loving friends reminds me, one doesn't need to speak Italian to appreciate Italian opera...


Illa Thompson

New Year – a time for resolutions and wishes. A time to contemplate, take stock, dream and plan. What was good from last year which we want to bring into the New Year? What was lacking in the old which needs addressing in the new? And what challenges and opportunities lie ahead for us?

Last year was the much anticipated Soccer World Cup which, from a KZN arts community perspective, was hugely disappointing. A fist-full of opportunities lost and dreams unfulfilled. Almost none of us reaped any benefits around 2010, nor were able to participate in the watershed event in any meaningful way. Compared to some great arts-themed projects and initiatives developed in other centres, we were certainly lacking behind. My wish is that should other major events come our way again, that the arts community is engaged timeously and meaningfully to add real value to the occasion.

Having said that, one needs to acknowledge the sterling effort invested into identifying and supporting local musicians during the World Cup process, and applaud the vision in commissioning such awesome visual art to adorn our stadium.

Grabbing the headlines last year were the "controversies" surrounding two commissioned works by Durban sculpture, Andries Botha – King Shaka and "the" elephants.

The King Shaka statue intended to grace the city's new King Shaka airport. This was unceremoniously dismantled after the Zulu Royal Household raised concerns that it was not a true reflection of the Zulu warrior king.

Last February the Ethekwini Municipality halted work on three elephant sculpture installations before they were completed – leading to a huge political controversy and a heated public outcry. The elephants have been covered by shade cloth since February, when Botha and his assistants were ordered to stop work when an ANC councillor allegedly complained that the artwork resembled the Inkatha Freedom Party logo.

One's hope is of course that the elephant saga will be proactively and creatively resolved and that the city's leaders will ultimately allow the elephants to be completed and proudly displayed as originally intended. The alternative - the thought of bureaucrats censoring the arts - is perplexing in the extreme.

Of course the eternal battle cry of the arts being under-resourced and under-nourished continues to rear its head. My new year's wish is that the funds that are available, are spent wisely. No more vulgar shambolic R40 million Lottery-funded World Youth Festival-type farces please! There is money in the kitty – the challenge is to allocate it with care and vision.

My wish is for the city to realize the amazing worth and contribution of the four active community theatre venues, and be more attentive to their needs. The Catalina Theatre and the Bat Centre in the harbour; the Ekhaya Multi Arts Centre in KwaMashu, and more recently the Stable Theatre, all stage brave and astonishing work and are the pulse of the arts in the city.

The city supports them intermittently, but they are all always within in a hair's breathe of having to shut their doors due to lack of ongoing formal funding. Between the city and the province, I would love to see these centres flourish and be the homes of theatrical excellence not curtailed by a persistent lack of money.

Coupled to this concept, it is my wish to see complete and functioning arts and culture policies for the city and province. Long have we been without a formal policy document to guide the decision-makers and city leaders. A well-structured policy which represents the vision of the city, dovetailed to that of the province, coupled with the aspirations and plans of the arts practioners, would be a valuable tool in shaping the way forward for our industry.

This would also hopefully lead to meaningful arts themed projects to honour the significant events in our calendar – Women's Day, Youth Day and Heritage Day, among others.

I also wish that producers and venue-owners would cut back on staging infernal, mind-numbingly tedious tribute shows and instead channel their resources and creative energies into more original fare.

My final wish is that friend and colleague Neil Coppen has a magnificent year! He has two new feathers in his cap - Coppen won the Standard Bank Young Artist award for theatre, 2011; and is embarking on a three-month long residency to the town of Dundee as part of the project titled Two Thousand and Ten reasons to Live in a Small Town facilitated by the Visual Arts Network of SA. We all wait with love and anticipation as to the wonderful work he will be empowered to do this year as a result.


Illa Thompson