This blog focuses on theatre, performance and multimedia analysis. It is interested in arts criticism, reviews, pitching and features.
Friday, June 21, 2013
Saturday, November 17, 2012
The State of Theatre in Masvingo (Zimbabwe) through the Eyes of David Dzatsunga - Siya Cultural Theatre
After travelling through Mashonaland East and Manicaland provinces Grace Maguri and I finally reached Masvingo late at night on the 8th of January 2008.
Early the next morning on the 9th of January 2008 we hooked up with
David Dzatsunga, director of Siya Cultural Theatre.
SR: Now, have you performed this?
Samuel Ravengai (Interview inside my car: Masvingo CBD)
“And
obviously the thing that has to happen is change; political change. If there’s
a change in our political dispensation, if we have a new way of looking at
life, a new way of looking at ourselves as a people, a new way of appreciating
diversity of opinion, until that happens, I don’t see that being easy for us to
build a vibrant culture of theatre” (Dzatsunga, 2008)
Samuel Ravengai: Obviously
theatre is not as vibrant as it was in the yesteryears. Tell me how it was in
the yesteryears and how it is like today.
David Dzatsunga: In
the yester years, we are talking about the late 80s and the bulk of the 90s. It
was possible to run a club. You could go out and hold performances in schools,
colleges and other institutions. You could also get funding from NGOs. You
could be commissioned to do productions. Some NGOs involved in some outreach
work, and even government departments, used to hire us for Theatre in Education
campaigns like HIV/AIDS, tuberculosis, family planning and things like that. So
really, there was a diverse source of funding which made it possible for us to
maintain a full time theatre arrangement where we all pay our actors and
actress. They were reasonably happy and did not see any need to seek
alternative employment. And, then of course, we could perform anywhere we felt
like. Basically, that was the environment that we operated in then prior to the
period that I was talking about.
SR: What
went wrong?
DD: Probably
the umbrella word is politics. With all these development to do with the land
reform, the advent of the vibrant opposition party, the MDC, and the various
pieces of legislation that have been described as rather draconic. The
environment in fact, immediately became rather stifling for theatre
practitioners. There was POSA where you were saying now you couldn’t just
automatically find yourself with a gathering of people without explanation to the
authorities. There was AIPPA sometimes we were told that our plays needed to be
censored and the relevant ministry needed to know what was in our plays. And
then the schools themselves were not very open. They could not independently
give our groups slots to perform to the students. They needed some clearance
either from the National Arts Council or the regional directors, or such
authorities. And it is becoming increasingly difficult to access institutions
which used to sustain theatre clubs. For some time, we went off the bill
because the problem now had to do with the NGOs Bill which I think had
provisions that regulated the funding of organizations. So it became very
difficult really, to access these NGOs and as a result we discovered that we
could not get out productions commissioned by them. Resultantly, we could not
pay actors as constantly or remunerate them meaningfully, and so we did not run
rehearsals. Actors increasingly became hungry, and with the hunger we had a lot
of conflicts within the actors or among the actors as a result of
misunderstanding of the cause of our distress. It was like the blame game where
we are now saying, like what has been happening in certain political situations
where you blame this tribe B for your poverty. It’s all politics. So we ended
up having all these conflicts in the groups, and naturally, the groups
disintegrated. All actors started moving away from the town going to South
Africa. Like in our particular kind of place, you have South Africa as a lure
for most young people. So we have quite a number of our actors just migrating
to that country. Others tried to go into chikorokoza, as we call it, so
they would just come into town spend the whole day in a queue, buy some sugar
for resale and things like that. And in our case also we have Harare-Beitbridge
highway which is quite lucrative for some youths who have the energy to go out
there at night and probably buy fuel from long distance haulage trucks and
things like that. Foreign currency deals. Some of them made it as a result of
that. They became better off than they were as theatre artists, and it has
become very difficult to bring them back into theatre because there really is
nothing on the ground to show that there’s hope for theatre in this particular
place.
SR: Now
that’s why you come to the conclusion that theatre is not as vibrant as it was
in the 80s or early 90s so to speak?
DD: Yes,
largely because there were many theatre clubs competing for a name. In this
town alone, small as it is, you could have five or four theatre clubs, and
there were always theatre clubs sometimes mushrooming and dying. But there was
a vibrant theatre industry to the extent that you could actually say unionise.
At some time we thought we could unionise theatre as artists in order for us to
be able to bargain meaningfully with the other stakeholders for example, those
who were commissioning us and those who were giving us jobs.
SR: Now,
you raised a very important issue which wasn’t an issue in the 80s and 90s, the
rise of a vibrant opposition political party. And you are saying it has got a
bearing on this death of theatre in Masvingo and probably at national level.
Would you like to explain how that brings about that scenario?
DD: I
believe that with the rise of that development, what the ruling party, or the
government rather, I think became paranoid because this party had a lot of
urban support. And as a consequence, there was need to legislate against any
perceived support or activities that may be deemed to support this opposition
party. Government now wanted to control information dissemination because it
was not going to be possible now to simply write what you think, put it on
stage and perform it to an audience. And it became increasingly important to
government to make sure that the content and movement of information was in
their control. So I believe again that’s where AIPPA comes in, that’s where
POSA comes in, that’s where all these other instruments that have been
legislated come in to control the movement of information. Or even the NGOs
bill, government was now of the perception that most NGOs had their sympathies
with the opposition, and most of the NGOs that supported theatre were in one
way or the other involved in governance.
And theatre as a tool for information dissemination naturally requires
that you gather people, and gathering people becomes something that is
threatening to the government.
SR: Now, would you like to be more particular,
especially as it regards to Masvingo or theatre groups that you know that were
directly affected by these pieces of legislation? Do you have any particular
examples?
DD: An
immediate example would be our own club, SIYA Cultural Theatre Club. Our thrust
as a club, and my thrust as a writer, has always been protest theatre. We are
saying ‘okay we have plays that try, from our own perspective, to mirror the
society as we saw it and to probably put across what could be considered
controversial issues’. We deal with things to do with corruption, elements to
do with land and all these things that concern people’s lives and which people
talk a lot about with regards to their own rights. We have times when we worked
with the Zimbabwe Human Rights Organisation. We had a play that we had done, Tafi,
which is short for Tafirenyika. That was in 1999 where we were looking
at the plight of the ex-combatants before they became aligned to the ruling
party. But we were simply looking at the fact that there was neglect of
ex-fighters, and some of them had actually degenerated into hoodlums of the
city and most of them were victims of corruption in high places where you find
that the leaders in power were deliberately neglecting them. We are simply
looking at neo-colonialism per se. So in that play we were commissioned
by ZimRights to perform that play. We took it around the province then in 1999.
I remember during those days we always had the CIOs as guests of our
performances. They were always around, following us around.
SR: Did
they in any way physically, directly or indirectly try to stifle you?
DD: No! They
were just there. You would feel that their presence was not welcome because it
was intrusive. And you could tell that they were trying to intimidate us by
simply being present in their dark glasses, quite conspicuous all the times. So
you wouldn’t feel comfortable in that kind of situation, especially if you were
knowledgeable about their track record.
SR: We all
know what they were doing, particularly during the 80s early 90s.
DD: Ya, ya!
Personally, I also happen to have had that kind of experience. I happen to have
been arrested by them at some time. During the days of the Zimbabwe Unity
Movement, I was perceived to have probably campaigned in a class room. I was
taken to their offices, close by here. I spent about three days in there. I was
interrogated intimidated, humiliated and so forth. But I’m saying I have that
prior experience. But I continue writing because writing is a dream, so you cannot
censor yourself. The moment you want to be insincere, you find yourself failing
to really bring out the artist in you.
SR: Let’s
come to your writing. Apart from Tafi which you did in 1999, what else
did you do?
DD: Voice
which we did in 1992. It dealt with disability awareness. But it was
political as well, the politics of disability if you like. I wrote the one
titled Sungai Dzibate. It had to do with the ESAP, the whole question of
ESAP where the president was urging us to tighten our belts.
SR: Anything else?
DD: In 1993
I did one that entered for National Winter Festival, under the auspices of
Masvingo Drama Circle, titled Nhamo/Troubles. We were collaborating. My
school was collaborating with Masvingo Drama Circle and I’m sure we won the
Dominic Convent Trophy for developing Zimbabwean theatre. The National Winter Festival as you would
know was mainly an elite festival, mostly for the whites. We entered it as a
community theatre production that was then adapted to a proscenium arch stage.
SR: Now,
you seem to be silent about 2000 to 2008. Could what you’ve been talking about
partly influenced that lack of vibrancy, liveliness of theatre?
DD: Ya! From
2000 onwards it became very difficult to bring actors together, that was the
major impediment.
SR: So can
we say for you it’s a dry patch, 2000 to 2008?
DD: Ya, it’s
a dry patch. I did a bit 2000. I’ve done a few works here and there but really,
it’s the lowest ebb of my career.
Grace: After Nhamo/Troubles
what other productions do you have?
DD: There
are quite a number. I do have scripts for some, but some were just improvised
by the actors when they were on stage. I can write them anytime, whenever I
want to script them. I did one which is Idler’s Corner. Idler’s
Corner is based on the days when we had the Daily News and The
Herald. It’s looking at media polarisation, and the politics that is being
played in the media. You have characters
on both sides of the political divide, each trying to justify their own, why
they support this side and not that side.
SR: Now, have you performed this?
DD: We
performed it here at the Charles Austin Theatre, again at the National Winter
Festival. We were asked by the Drama Circle to come and perform as guests. But
we have also performed it for audiences here, in and around Masvingo, mostly between
2000 and 2001. ... I have also done Matroubles which is looking at the
youths and HIV/AIDS.
Grace Maguri: (interjecting) Can I ask about other drama groups that you
know? You now are talking about your personal experiences. But what have you
also seen about other drama groups? Are they any drama groups that the
establishment has used?
DD: Not that
I know of. I know there have been drama clubs, but mostly the establishment
does not like using drama clubs. They would rather use dance clubs. ...So when
you try to perform at their events as a drama club, they are not comfortable.
But if you are going we have Heroes Theatre Company here. I wouldn’t say they support the
establishment, but what we have discovered is that because they dance Imbube
and other dances. They are from Bulawayo actually, but they came and settled
here. They do get jobs to perform at
national events and for the establishment here and there, simply because they
sing and dance. But for those of us who have a mind and who would like to say
things, it’s not easy to then find a stand to perform on these events. So
that’s what I can say. I can’t think of a drama club that has really endeared
itself to the political leadership of the province on the ruling party side.
Grace: What’s
your way forward?
DD: Personally,
it’s very difficult to see under the current environment how best we can go
forward. I know it will really take a lot to bring actors back to the rehearsal
room and back onto the stage, because really unless there’s funding coming from
elsewhere, not really to believe that can be channelled towards an effort to
build an audience, until that is done. I don’t see theatre really reviving out
of the efforts of the artists here on their own. The artists need some help,
they need a helping hand. They need to be brought back on to the stage. There are there. Even today, if you were
going to say you want a production and you want us to do some work for you, it
wouldn’t take me a day to gather artist who are rotting in the townships there
and come up with a production. It’s not a problem as long as there is an
incentive. It’s a question of saying you guys there’s so much money for you,
let’s do this. So really, I believe that the only possibility for the revival
of theatre especially in this town lies in some Good Samaritan probably coming
down here to fund some activities. That may then convince artists that there’s
life.
SR: Or probably
when the economy improves.
DD: And
obviously the thing that has to happen is change: political change. If there’s
a change in our political dispensation, if we have a new way of looking at
life, a new way of looking at ourselves as a people, a new way of appreciating
diversity of opinion, until that happens, I don’t see that being easy for us to
build a vibrant culture of theatre.
Samuel Ravengai (Interview inside my car: Masvingo CBD)
Monday, November 5, 2012
Maninzi Kwatshube Shocks Zimbabwean Theatre Audiences with Mabaso’s Black Threat
Samuel Ravengai
A second year University of Cape Town drama student,
Maninzi Kwatshube, brought a moving piece of theatre to the Savanna Trust
hosted festival, Protest Arts International Festival (PAIF). This is the fourth
edition of the festival and it ran under the theme ‘Imagining and Re-Inventing
the Future’. When Maninzi heard about PAIF, she thought there was no better
opportunity to protest against African notions of beauty.
Maninzi collaborated with Nkule Mabaso, a fellow UCT
Fine art student, who made the braids (which Maninzi used as part of the props)
for her BA project. Maninzi took it upon herself to create a performance using
the material that Mabaso had provided. Maninzi played Rapunzel, a character who
represents Nkule Mabaso. Rapunzel is trapped in a desolate and unforgiving
environment. She explores the female experience of the city, negotiating the
fragile balance of fear and survival, of wanting to be desired and the fear of
being desirable.
Zimbabwean
audiences are ‘haunted’ by the ghost of previous performances at Theatre in the
Park. All performances that come to this venue, with a few possible exceptions,
use dialogue together with other performance forms such as dance, mime and
song. On 27 October 2012, Zimbabwean audiences brought with them the residue
memory of those previous performances, which they obviously wanted to use to
appreciate a new performance coming from South Africa, Black Threat.
However, they had a rude awakening when they were confronted by a performance
that began and ended without a single word spoken. Maninzi, playing Rapunzel,
never mimed, danced or sang. She chose to be a slave to the properties that
adorned the set.
Black
Threat
proposed new distinctive conventions, that is rules imposed by the performance
itself and hence unknown to the audience. The beauty of distinctive conventions
is that they add a new experiential memory for future use. In this new theatre,
at least to Zimbabwe, it is no longer the story/plot/action, but the ‘game’
that becomes the generative matrix. In Black Threat, the game involves
applying makeup, wearing a wig of braids and playing with it till it infuriates
Rapunzel. The audience left with a number of questions. What was it they had
just seen? Was it theatre or not? What kind of theatre? Can theatre take place
without recourse to the spoken word?
In
the performance Rapunzel’s hair represents all the repressive elements that
hinder her femininity on the one hand and on the other hand, the hair functions as the
gross bodily extension that is meant to increase her attractiveness. The hair
also functions as a tower of conceit and self-hatred from which she must escape
as her hair keeps her imprisoned in a cycle of self-hatred and ill-confidence.
When
the audience got into the venue, the performance had already begun, contrary to
tradition where a performance begins after the audience has settled. Rapunzel,
played by Maninzi was sitting on an African reed mat applying makeup on her
lips, eyes, face, body and legs. Faint warmers illuminated this figure in the centre
of a theatre in the round.
The
door leading to the set was made of plaited braids. Each member of the audience
touched these braids as they entered the space, giving the braids a ritualistic
significance quite unsettling for religious audiences. The braids extended to
the ground and wound around an opened makeup box revealing all the
paraphernalia, from which Maninzi occasionally drew more makeup.
There
was a pre-recorded audio playing from a computer which was visible on set and
operated by a person visible to the audience. It was a chat between Nkule and
Nkanyisile which was recorded in one of the University of Cape Town residences.
They were talking about African and Coloured identities as they were defined in
the 1950 Population Registration Act. What came out was the segregation amongst
Coloured communities. The standard preferred identity was the Coloured with
straight long hair typical of population groups with Malay blood. Coloureds
with black parents were ‘othered’ in both Coloured and Black communities. Nkule
and Nkanyisile laughed, cried, complained, despaired and celebrated in the
background. No visuals were used.
While
the audio chat was going on, Maninzi pursued action of a different type, not
based on satisfying a want, but playing a game with braids and pants hung on
the line. When her figure was fully illuminated, she set facing the entrance
and applying more makeup. She knelt down, head on the ground, in what seemed
like a prayerful gesture and began to worship the braids. She did it a few more
times and ended the routine with a burst of energy which loosened a loop and
released the braids from the door.
The
rest of the performance centres around Rapunzel fashioning The Black Threat
(title of the mass of artificial dreadlocks) into a dress that she climbs into
and lounge around in, and admires her beauty and desirability until she
realizes that is she is trapped and needs to escape but there is no escape, and
so she exhausts herself fighting the towering dress she has built until she is
free but only to start all over again in different spaces that represent
different ills. The things that make a city more familiar and less alien are
not the concrete or other physical markers, but the relationships and the
people and the associations we make with that place.
It
was an excruciating experience where an object of adornment turned into an
object of horror and torture. A member of the audience sitting just above me
couldn’t hide his exasperation and shouted ‘women are in trouble!’ I felt the
urge to stand up and relieve her of the weight she was carrying, but remembered
it was a performance. At that moment, another shocking experience happened.
Maninzi decided to take off the cloth wound around her body. This revealed her
whole body with only a brown tight pant covering the essentials. This was quite
unsettling for a conservative Zimbabwean audience. The closest, a performer
came to nudity was when Tinopona Katsande took off her g-string and threw it on
the floor as she maintained her position inside the blankets, while playing in
Noel Marerwa’s Hot Water Bottle. Maninzi dressed up in pink bra and
pants in full view of the audience. She put on a leopard skin coloured trousers
and matching high heeled shoes. She started modelling in this costume nearly
falling on several occasions. She seemed to attack all symbols of African
feminine beauty. Hair and its connection to attractiveness plays a large part
of how black women project themselves out to the world and into the future. The
underlying implications of the fake hairs that they adorn and the unconscious
or conscious desire to resemble white women in order to be seen as attractive
and socially acceptable is problematised.
Maninzi
finally decided to put on a matching top, but with each attempt, the long
braids prevented her from wearing what she wanted to. She tried several times
and realising the futility of the exercise, she started stripping again
violently. She turned the makeup box upside down scattering its contents all
over the set. She removed the braids and threw them in a heap together with the
high heeled shoes. She wound a cloth with ethnic colours around her head
leaving the top part revealing her trimmed African hair. The blouse could now
fit her body. The audience sensed the end and clapped hands bringing closure to
the show.
The
idea was to refocus on the ‘traditional’ ideas of beauty and its construction;
how black women define their attractiveness through foreign standards which
effectively ‘other’ them. Was this theatre, the audience wondered? Mabaso
calls her piece ‘contemporary performance’, while others call it ‘live art’ or
‘performance art’. Theatre of a physical nature has been taken as ‘contemporary
dance’ and relegated to dance spaces such as 7 Arts in Avondale. This has
limited its scope of penetration in Zimbabwe. Lloyd Nyikadzino is now involved
in various workshops to train Zimbabwean theatre makers in the art of physical
theatre. Stanley Mambo, through Conquered Plans has attempted to
mainstream physical theatre. Ravengai has already directed Tirivangani
and is currently deconstructing Magwa’s Njuzu [Merman] to create theatre
of a physical nature. Maninzi’s Black Threat has introduced a new creative
vibe that could see Zimbabwean theatre moving into a fundamentally new
direction.
Wednesday, October 17, 2012
From the Squalor of Shanty Towns Hopley Farm Thespians Theatre Company rises to the Occasion with Tirivangani
Sometime in
July 2012, I received a call from Noel Marerwa, a Harare based playwright,
inviting me to direct a play he had just penned called Tirivangani. He
had given full rights to a squatter camp based theatre group, Hopley Farm
Thespians, to perform it and the group had begun rehearsals in earnest. I was
reluctant to direct it. Soon I started receiving calls from the leader of the
group, Yvonne Bosha, wanting me to see their work in progress. I was still
reluctant to be part of the production, less for snobbish reasons than for
financial rewards. I finally agreed to a meeting in the CBD with two members of
the group and Noel Marerwa. I was touched by the plight of the group and I
immediately agreed to work with them for nothing. I only agreed to conduct
rehearsals at the University of Zimbabwe Beit Hall if the group could avail
itself to that space. I thought the group would give up on me. From the squalor
of Hopley Farm, performers were immediately exposed to the splendour of the
Beit Hall with its raised stage, wooden floors and glowing lights.
Background to Hopley Farm Thespians Theatre Company
Hopley
Farm, where Hopley Thespians reside, was officially designated a settlement
area in 2005 to accommodate former residents of Porta Farm who were evicted
during Operation Murambatsvina (Restore Order) in May 2005, although a number
of people were already living there informally. The operation, which was
carried out in winter and against a backdrop of severe food shortages, targeted
poor urban and peri-urban areas countrywide. In a critical report released on
22 July 2005 the United Nations (UN) estimated that in the space of approximately
six weeks some 700,000 people lost their homes, their livelihoods, or both (AI
and ZLHR 2006)
Porta Farm
squatter settlement was itself established in 1991. In 1991 thousands of people
living in informal settlements around Harare were forcibly evicted by the
Harare City Council, acting under the direction of Ministry of Local Government
and Housing, and moved to Porta Farm, a plot of unused agricultural land on the
outskirts of Harare owned by the City of Harare. The forcible relocation of
people to Porta Farm was part of an exercise to “clean up” Harare ahead of a
Commonwealth Heads of Government Meeting held between 16 and 21 October 1991. Alfred
Musabayana, who plays Tirivangani in the play, was collected from Mbare bus
terminus together with his mother when he was a little boy and moved to Porta
Farm. Marlene who plays Shandirai/sangoma/housewife was collected from Mafakose
while Yvonne Bosha who plays as aunty was collected from Epworth. All of them
were children at that time.
Those
relocated to Porta Farm were told by Harare City officials that their stay
there would be temporary and Harare City Council, with the assistance of
central government, would permanently resettle them elsewhere. While some were
resettled by government at Dzivarasekwa Extension in 1992/38, the population of
Porta Farm grew over the years as new people – many made homeless as a result
of other forced evictions around Harare – moved to the area. At the time of its
destruction in 2005, Porta Farm, was home to between 6,000 and 10,000 people
(AI and ZLHR 2006).
Following
the destruction of Porta Farm many community members were forcibly relocated,
first to
Caledonia Farm Transit Camp and then to Hopley Farm, where they were left with
no shelter and almost no means of accessing food. Initially the government
refused to allow the UN and humanitarian organisations to provide assistance to
internally displaced persons (IDPs) at Hopley Farm.
Sometime in
1999 CHIPAWO, World Vision and Inter-country Aid sponsored an arts festival at
Hopley Farm. One of the benefits of the arts festival was the release of a
creative vibe which led to the formation of Hopley Farm Thespians in 2004. When
formed, its main focus was on the use of applied drama and theatre to solve day
to day problems of the Hopley community such as health and sanitation,
encouraging children to go to school and some such developmental themes. After
scoring a number of successes within the community the group thought of
becoming bigger by handling more global themes that would appeal to a wider
audience outside their community. For the reason that Hopley Farm Thespians
Company has chosen to go global, they can no longer be critiqued through the
lens of applied theatre theories. Applied theatre assumes that all theatre
originating from an underprivileged community is for social development and,
therefore, concerned with rural or community projects with a revolutionary
ideological leaning.
Tirivangani
Tirivangani followed a
different model. It did not follow the travelling theatre approach where a company takes theatre to
the people as was the case the universities of Ibadan, Makerere, Nairobi,
Malawi, and Zambia. The travelling theatre group might or might not organise
workshops for and hold discussions with its audiences; the important point is
that the audiences – who are the community – are not involved and do not
participate in the playmaking process. It also did not follow ‘the outside team
workers approach’ where a group of people goes to a community, stays with that
community, listens to and observes the people’s main problems and concerns,
exchanges opinions with the people and then goes back to base to make a play on
what was seen as the major themes arising out of the discussions and
observations. The resulting play is then brought back to the community –
written and acted by people from outside. Neither did the theatre company use
‘the participatory approach’ where a theatre group comes to the community and
listens to the community’s problems and discusses them. However, instead of moving
away from the community to evolve and make a play around the issues arising out
of the community, the group stays with the community with whom it makes the
plays. A much higher level of community participation is when the community
itself takes the initiative to create theatre and invites people outside their
community as was the case in Kenya with the Kamiriithu Community Education and
Cultural Centre (KCECC).
Hopley Farm Theatre
Company simply operated within tough commercial framework of urban economies by
hiring a professional director (who however, discharged his duties free of
charge) and a professional playwright. The UZ department of theatre arts did
not charge the group for using its facilities in order to encourage more of
these synergies in future. The reasons for these choices are several. It was
hoped that performers would see immense possibilities while working in a
relatively modern and complex production facility such as the UZ Beit Hall. The
show was performed to an intellectual audience at the University of Zimbabwe on
26, 27, 28 September 2012 in the evening and 2 October 2012 at 1pm and 7pm.
After every performance there was a post-performance discussion with a
predominately theatre trained audience. The cast was appreciated generously and
this served as a confidence booster to a cast with a shanty town background.
On the 1st
of October, the ZBC News crew caught the performance of Tirivangani live
at the Beit Hall and conducted interviews with cast members and the director.
On the 8th and 9th of October 2012 Tirivangani was
on the headlines of arts and culture news on ZTV and radio. This is the kind of
exposure that the theatre group would not have achieved had they worked in
their Hopley farm habitat.
Tirivangani is set somewhere on the Zimbabwean
plateau in the 1890s. The story unfolds by following the exploits of a local
hero called Tirivangani, played by Alfred Musabayana. He is a gifted hunter and
warrior who is well known for commanding his impi to defeat neighbouring
warriors who occasionally stray into his territory to steal animals trapped on
his snares. Like the biblical David, he has killed a lion, a leopard and
occasionally killed buffalos for food. His strong indigenous belief is tested
by the arrival of a white missionary played by Morgan. In his first encounter
with the missionary he refuses to be proselytised and defends his traditional
religion with much wisdom. However, news reaches his aunt, played by Susan
Sibanda, that he had an encounter with a foreign religion. She comes to give
him comfort and to encourage him to marry a woman, as this would give him even
more courage during battles, since he would be fighting to return home to be
with his family. He finally marries Shandirai, played by Marlene Mazodza.
When it becomes
obvious that Tirivangani might defect to Christianity, a territorial spirit,
(mhondoro), again played by Marlene Mazodza, comes in style, charging
Tirivangani never to letdown his people by converting to Christianity. The mondoro
performs a ritual where she sprinkles Tirivangani with a concoction to fortify
him against any temptation. This supernatural encounter is supposed to
consummate with the ritual murder of the first person Tirivangani encounters on
his way through the forest. Interestingly, the first person he meets is his
biological mother. He makes three attempts at her life with each attempt ending
in hesitation. Because of the pressure of this possibly horrendous murder,
Tirivangani collapses. When he gains consciousness, he is confronted by the
same missionary with the same message of repentance. At the moment of agreeing
to be converted, her aunt arrives just on time to dissuade him from
Christianisation. A duel between the missionary and aunt ensues with each
calling Tirivangani to Christianity and traditionalism respectively. This
conflict is played in dance form until Tirivangani again collapses without
making a decision. The play ended with a thunderous applause from the audience.
Although the theme of
tradition versus modernity is archetypal and somewhat tired, Hopley Thespians
had a fresh take to it. Instead of relying on the dominance of the spoken word
as other dramas have tended to do, their nucleus of performance was the body.
The body was the main carrier of the message through a combination of dance
like movements, dance, stage combat and elements of physical theatre. The
performance was therefore symbolic as opposed to realism.
Even though the play
is set in Zimbabwe of the 1890s, nothing in the setting or costume realistically
depicts these given facts. The performers wore brown skin tights and had their
faces painted with ethnic colours. The stage was bare suggesting that meaning
was to be conveyed through the body rather than realistic detail. What is
encouraging is that the audience was able to follow the story from the
beginning to the end. This is, perhaps, the new direction that Zimbabwean
theatre is taking. The play will go to Theatre in the Park on a date to be announced and will thereafter
start a tour of universities and colleges in and around Harare before going
national. I would give it a rating of four stars!
Thursday, June 14, 2012
The Life and Work of August Strindberg
Dr Samuel Ravengai
Paper presented on the 4th of June, 2012 at the Gallery Delta, to celebrate the centenary of August Strindberg’s death
August Strindberg: Contextual Background – Modernism
August Strindberg’s Life
The Work of August Strindberg
Strindberg wrote either chronicle history plays or
fairy plays. In terms of style, Strindberg’s best plays fall into two groups –
the naturalistic plays favoured by the French director, Andre Antoine, and
expressionist/symbolist plays which can be associated with the German director
Max Reinhardt.
As can be seen for the foregoing, Strindberg was
popular with the French and Germans. In the 1880s and 1890s Strindberg was very
much in the swim in France and German. He visited Antoine’s Theatre Libre and
was much impressed by the brief one act plays of the French dramatists, which
very much influenced his form in Miss Julie. Strindberg resolved to
reduce the conflict to its directest manifestation – one person mentally
struggling with another as we see in Miss Julie.
But Strindberg did not make his mark in America, and
this is not a reflection of his lack of genius. The intelligentsia in England
and America were predominantly radical, but Strindberg’s radicalism was
slightly against the the western feminist grain. He was considered morbid,
antifeminist, reactionary and religious. At times, he was too pious for the
English and American radicals.
Paper presented on the 4th of June, 2012 at the Gallery Delta, to celebrate the centenary of August Strindberg’s death
I am privileged today to talk about a playwright,
novelist and essayist whom I was introduced to by Robert McLaren and have found
a pleasure to teach to my students since 2002. August Strindberg’s play Miss
Julie (1888) resonates with Zimbabwean contemporary discourses of gender,
racial and class prejudice. For that reason, we found Miss Julie a
relevant text to critique these discourses and the text has been produced in
various formats at the university and by various community theatre groups.
Today is a momentous occasion for Zimbabwe, in that we join hands with our
Swedish friends to celebrate the life and work of one of the greatest modern
dramatists in the world – August Strindberg. He influenced his contemporaries
and will continue to influence more generations to come. Ibsen, for example
kept a portrait of August Strindberg on his wall and he said of him: ‘I am an
enemy of his – but I cannot write a line except when this bold man with his mad
eyes looks down on me’ (Bentley 1947: 160). An older Bernard Shaw spoke of the
‘giants of the theatre of our time, Ibsen and Strindberg’ (ibid) and gave his
Nobel Prize money for better translations of the Swedish genius.
For a very long time, Europe was ruled by monarchies.
Revolutions that took place in the 18th and 19th
centuries replaced monarchies with democracies led by the bourgeoisie. The
bourgeoisie inherited the art and culture of the old monarchies through
appropriation of illusionistic theatre developed since the time of Sophocles,
Euripides and Aristophanes. August Strindberg, together with other playwrights who
were not satisfied with the status quo, began an artistic movement that we call
modernism today. However, Strindberg occupies a special position in the
modernist movement as summarised by Eugene O’Neil:
Strindberg was
the precursor of all modernity in our present theatre... Strindberg still
remains among the most modern of moderns, the greatest interpreter in the
theatre of the characteristic spiritual conflicts which constitute the drama –
the blood – of our lives today (Bentley 1947: 160)
Modernism has come to mean different things to
different scholars and sometimes conflates with avant-gardism and
post-modernism (Whitemore 1994). However, in this article I am using modernism
to refer to an artistic movement that began at the end of the 19th
century in the West and extended into the second half of the twentieth century.
This artistic movement, also called the avant-garde fetishised the notion of
newness, originality and innovation in order to overhaul the formularised and
consumption oriented generic formats of playwriting associated with western
illusionistic theatre. The innovation and attack on western bourgeois theatre
by mostly young playwrights such as Andre Breton, Tristan Tzara, Antonin Artaud
and others was achieved in different ways in different countries and, therefore,
took different forms from the 1880s to the 1970s. The historical avant-garde
(Lehman 2006, p. 48) or early theatrical modernists (Stone-Peters 2006, p. 208)
of the late 19th century, for instance touched on thematic outlaws
such as sex with such plays as Ibsen’s Ghosts, Strindberg’s Miss
Julie, Wedekind’s Spring Awakening, the Lulu plays, Wilde’s Salome,
Schnitzler’s La Ronde, Shaw’s Mrs Warren’s Profession. For
writing and performing against the grain, they were banned and/ or fined in
Europe and the United States
when censorship laws were still operational (Stone-Peters 2006). Some modernist
plays attacked bourgeois tastes by revolting against God where a messianic hero
kills god and tries to take his place as in Ibsen’s Brand, Strindberg’s To
Damascus, and Shaw’s Man and Superman,
among others. The presumed death of God became the source of creativity for the
absurdist movement. During the late 1950s modernism developed another form
which Lehman (2006, p. 52) calls ‘neo-avant-garde’ which denounced the
Aristotelian dramatic action and plot, but still depended on speech as the
dominant sign system. This became absurdism epitomised by luminaries such as
Beckett, Ionesco, Adamov, Adrienne Kennedy and Pinter among others. Modernism
developed as Dadaism, surrealism, expressionism, constructivism, futurism,
absurdism and symbolism in different parts of the West and Russia. Modernism,
as it is used in this article covers dramatic texts and performances that
followed these approaches to theatre making or a combination of each of them.
August Strindberg was born in 1849 and died in 1912 at
the age of 63. After a long illicit union, Strindberg’s father finally married
his mother. Strindberg was, therefore, conceived out of wedlock. This moral
stigma which was further exacerbated by his mother’s lowly origin followed
Strindberg through his life. For this traumatic anguish, Strindberg rebelled
against his mother. At the same time, however, Strindberg had a Freudian
ambivalence, in the sense that he was violently attached to her. This Freudian
complex never left him and he never became a complete individual. When his
mother died, Strindberg ‘was not to be comforted. He shrieked like one
drowning’ (cited in Bentley 1947: 166). The lowly origin of his mother was to
find artistic space in his play Miss Julie (1888) where he changes the
roles and makes the man, Jean, the character who has lowly origins. Miss Julie
is the aristocrat. However, sexually, Jean is the aristocrat because of his
virility. Even though Julie may be the mistress in the class struggle, Jean is
the master in the sex war.
The events that followed after Strindberg’s mother’s
death reveal the similarities of human cultures. In Zimbabwe, a widowed man
must mourn his wife for one year before he marries another, although the period
of mourning is double for women. Similarly, Strindberg criticised his father
for becoming engaged before the expiration of the mandatory year of mourning.
He prophesied misery and ruin on his father and went on to unreasonable
lengths. He refused to kiss his step mother at the wedding. He then developed a
dislike for women which saw him marrying three times, all of them ending
tragically. In the public mind of his contemporaries he was a lunatic genius
who never left off beating his wife. Several of his plays draw on the problems
of his marriages.
Due to the fact that his life is found in his works of
art, Strindberg can be aptly classified as an existential writer. His life and
work is one. He writes himself through life and for that reason he is like
Kiergaard and Nietzche. In their plays, self-dramatisation plays a significant
role. In Strindberg’s plays The Ghost Sonata, he features as a character,
Hummel, (Old Man). This self-dramatisation is a technique that features in
Dambudzo Marechera’s plays in Mindblast and Scrapiron Blues.
Despite all this negativity about his life ‘let he who
is without sin cast the first stone’, August Strindberg was a believer. He did
not hide his spiritual values even in his work. In his play There are Crimes
and Crimes, a Parisian playwright deserts his child and her mother for
another woman. The child dies. The father feels guilty and at the end of the
text to the last act prepares to die with his new lover. But Strindberg has
prepared the way for a different ending ‘salvation is the answer to suicide’
(cited in Bentley 1947: 175). Strindberg went on parading Christianity and even
asked that the bible should be solemnly laid upon his corpse.
August Strindberg wrote fifty five volumes and these
can be classified into three categories. The first category consists of
Strindberg’s occasional works such as translations, essays and treatises. This
is also where we find his autobiographies, which, as we have seen above,
provided the raw material for his artworks. The second category consists of
novels which attempted to impose order and form upon the chaos of his
experience. The last category consists of Strindberg’ central achievement – his
plays.
Conclusion
What is Strindberg’s place in the history and future
of drama? Strindberg was an epitome of knew thinking of the 19th
century. He epitomised the century’s knew beliefs, illusions and attitudes. We
credit him for fulfilling and destroying (in Christ like style) the dramatic
laws of the 19th century. He is the father of modern drama. With the
rise of Western feminism and its inherent hatred of men, Strindberg is going to
be invoked even more vigorously in future when the future man fights back matriarchy
to regain his lost ground. On this prophetic note, I thank you.
Friday, May 11, 2012
HIFA Theatre Signs off with Miller’s I Have Sinned (2012).
By
Samuel Ravengai
![]() |
| Peace Mukwara, the director of I have Sinned |
Of course Arthur Miller never wrote a play with
the same title. I Have Sinned was penned by Zimbabwean young and
upcoming playwright, Patrick Miller, who is currently a BA theatre arts honours
second year student at the University of Zimbabwe. Its last performance at HIFA
2012 kicked off at 1540 on Sunday 6 May at the Standard Theatre and ended an
hour later to a thunderous applause from the audience. I Have Sinned was
directed by Peace Mukwara, who has just rejoined the University of Zimbabwe
Theatre Arts Department as a masters student. It was not by accident that the
director chose performers whom he had previous interface with. He cast Tatenda
Mangosho, his ex-classmate, as William and Chiedza Chinhanu, a fellow student
at the UZ, as Natasha.
The story centres on an as yet undisclosed
source of distress in the family. William is mourning and in depression, in
what used to be RJ’s bedroom, comprising a single bed with white bedding, a
single cabinet and chair. When the lights illuminate this first acting area,
they reveal a young man, William, with long Afro hair mourning and sulking
after his cousin RJ commits suicide in suspicious circumstances. Family
members, his father Neil, his mother, Lear, and his sister, Natasha, come to
persuade him to let go of the past and move on with his life through much
prayer and counselling. This is not helpful at all since William would like to
get to the bottom of things to find out the reasons for RJ’s debt and his
suicide. William digs through heaps of paper and discovers that his late cousin
RJ had received a loan of $16,000 which he is unable to link to any source.
![]() |
| Patrick Miller, the playwright of I have Sinned |
The playwright, Patrick Miller, is successful
in creating suspense in the sense that he does not disclose the information,
but only reveals what is vital to move the story forward. When the lights fade
from the first acting area, another set of light hits the second acting area
comprising a floral couch covered with a coffee velvet cloth, a pine coffee
table and a chair. This is the family living room. Here family members argue
over the best way to help William out of this depression. Neil, who is also a
pastor of the local church, challenges his wife Lear to reveal where she was
getting the money to sponsor the late RJ. Lear does not want to reveal this
information as she was stealing the money from church coffers where both of
them were pastors. Lear’s position is that she was paying RJ to keep quiet
about what we get to learn later that Neil sexually molested him. Mark, the
church congregant, is the only sober person in the family. As a family friend
and loyal member of the church he is steadfast about the importance of prayer
to help William deal with his depression. The only dark spot in Mark’s life is
that he knows Lear was paying RJ, but couldn’t reveal this piece of information
to William, except when William proves that Lear has revealed it to him. All
this information is revealed by the playwright in bits and pieces keeping the audience
on the edge of their seats.
The only problem with the story is that it does
not move away from the folkloric and religious tendency to moralise at the end
of the story. Most Zimbabwean plays of the 1970s and 1980s, especially those
written in African languages, end with a characteristic didactic ending. Our
modern audiences require making their own choices and don’t want to be given a
readymade solution that is moral and didactic.
The director had a logical understanding of
space. Although there was an open space between William’s room and the family
living room, the director created non-diegetic space where the performers
walked through the imagined corridor and obeyed its conventions throughout the
performance. The depth, breadth and length of the house were made clear through
movement which respected established boundaries.
Although the director clearly understood the
importance of tempo and rhythm to his production, he concentrated on acoustic
rhythm and paid less attention on visual rhythm. There was a clear sense of
blocking revealing motivated movements, but everybody moved slowly like they
were dragging weights on their feet. This slow movement was consistent to every
performer and gave the performance a dull visual rhythm. Still on the same subject,
some beats were far too long and did not require the time that they were
accorded since they did not add anything to the story. The ending of the
performance, for example, has family members praying and speaking in tongues.
This needed cutting and tightening to give the performance pace.
Acting was believable and psychological. Performers
worked on elocution and did not depend on microphones like the previous
production of Bonnie and Clyde from Manchester, United Kingdom in the
same intimate theatre. Perhaps Africans have a natural ability to project their
voices without the aid of technology. Charles Matare came across as a seasoned
performer. He had depth and handled the part of Neil convincingly. Matare comes
from the community theatre tradition of the early 90s and that experience came
to his aid in handling the part he played. Lear, Neil’s wife, was played by
Sarah Masike whose acting career began with training at Reps Theatre. Her most
convincing performance was when she played the seduction of Mark, played by
Derek Nzinyakwi, who received his training from Theory X, an offshoot of Over
The Edge Theatre Company. Derek was equal to the task of playing ‘holy’ against
the most appetising temptation. He played stiff when aroused by Lear, but at
the same time remained sensitive to the feelings of his lady pastor to protect
her from embarrassment. While William played his depression convincingly, the
director allowed him to play on two notes – high and low. In that regard, he
was not able to play the various permutations of depression that his role
demanded. This could have been his failure to clearly delineate the various
beats in his speeches or the director did not point to the problem early enough
in the process. Chiedza Chinhanu played the minor character, Natasha, and did
it just good enough. Perhaps, in future she needs a more challenging role.
While all other areas of performance could pass
on any stage in the world, the area of relationships needed more attention and
was the least successful. The audience stretched their imaginations too far to
accept the director’s proposals. The cast needed to analyse these relationships
and find ways of playing them visually.
Despite this setback, this show was well
produced and the audience got value for their money. I had the opportunity of
reading some of the comments in the feedback journal and found that most
audience members enjoyed the show. The British Council should continue to
support such new works.
Tuesday, April 24, 2012
Zimbabwean Theatre and Censorship: Views from Walter Muparutsa
By Samuel Ravengai
Walter Muparutsa was a fierce defender of freedom of
expression. He did not only talk about it, but demonstrated it in action by
directing plays which tackled tabooed subjects. He engaged with authorities and
state security agents to convince them that they were not following the law by
denying citizens the right to express themselves. I interviewed Walter
Muparutsa on the 10th of April 2008 about the subject of censorship
and freedom of expression and this is what he said:
Walter Muparutsa (WP): It
came to a point where a lot of the artists were not allowed to voice their
concerns. But the audience who went to see their performances was empowered. So Jonathan Moyo and all the people in government
know how to exploit the arts for it to be consumed by the electorate. The
electorate (rural) is less informed because there is no information in the
country. The government holds back information from the electorate. So Jonathan
Moyo being minister of information takes advantage of that situation by
exploiting the arts using galas and performances to promote the land reform
programme and the establishment.
Samuel Ravengai (SR) : Now,
you were talking about the issue of organizations that inject money into
theatre groups in order to further their agendas. Did you say it was a problem?
WM: It’s just
like the government. The government is an organization. It brings money to the
artists but with a hidden agenda and they abuse the artists. If an NGO or any
other organization has got agendas they will bring an idea like HIV/AIDS. Those
are given terms of reference. They have been commissioned. You are given
guidelines. This is how you perform the thing.
Of course, you use a bit of creativity; in fact with the right person,
the writer and then the person who is got to direct and the artists who are
going to act the play you can come up with a good product. However, because
that organization is not a straight forward thing, they want an instructional
thing which causes people to take a certain line of thinking. In most cases
this causes problems. For example the donor may come up with the idea that
HIV/AIDS on its own does not kill.
SR: But in
a democracy isn’t it allowed to do that?
WM: What I’m
saying is this, the artist is to blame. Generally the artists using their
creativity should not do that, if they don’t want to be compromised in their
creativity. If you say it’s democratic, okay it’s democratic but the thing is
this, in order to make an informed decision, you ought to be really grounded in
whatever things you’re doing. A lot of
the artists have been used at galas for propaganda by Jonathan Moyo. Those guys
were out there just to get bread and butter. It was to go and get money. They
didn’t think about the effects of their messages to the population. For them it
was simply doing things blindly and so forth. But then the thing is, at the
same time, the artists can turn around and say it’s my democratic right, I can
do what I like. This is why you find a person like Andy Brown; he’s one of the
most prolific musicians in this country. His whole career collapsed. If he was
forced, then it’s something else, but if he did it through his own free will, I
don’t know; we have somebody whom I think is an intelligent person.
SR: Let’s
come back to the issue of What They Said What They Got. I believe you
took part in it together with Raisedon Baya. But when you put that kind of creativity
you find yourself having problems with the authorities.
WM: This is a
case like the HIV/AIDS commissioned play. You’re trying to tell the nation that
there is a thing called freedom to access information. The people of Zimbabwe
have a government which controls information. They are draconian laws to
control the flow of information. We are saying how can people be informed? How
can they best make informed decisions and choices in a situation where there is
only one paper you can read. Other papers are banned. That play highlights the
way police actually administer AIPPA and POSA. You can actually see that it was
wrong.
SR: Why do
you say that?
WM: It’s wrong
in the sense that they are denying people the right to information. Your
constitution clearly says that but look, this is where the problem is. This
country got into problems because there was no opposition in parliament. To
oppose was considered unpatriotic. The fact of the matter is Zimbabwe became a
de facto one party state. Now we are saying that because it’s a one party
state, you’re forcing people to agree to things that they don’t want. If you want to be honest, would you say in
parliament the bills introduced were exhaustively debated before they became
law? No! Ravengai! If you went there one
day to listen to the debate to any piece of legislation you’ll feel very angry.
Because, in fact, the whole thing is a comedy. It’s a farce. They were not
serious. And for over all these years, they were never able to be serious
because they always destroyed the opposition.
If you say anything contrary to ZANU PF you’re an enemy of the state,
you’re a reactionary. You cannot even get to discuss or debate anything here?
Now the thing is this; how can you even, in terms of the laws they enact get to
say the laws are fair.
SR: Now,
let’s talk about What they Said What They Got. Now, in Harare were you given space to do this
play?
WM: Right. What
happened is this, with What they Say What They Got Global Arts was given
six provinces to operate in. Rooftop promotions were in Harare Province, Mash
East, West and Central. Global Arts had Manicaland, Masvingo, Midlands, Matabeleland
North, Mat South and Bulawayo metropolitan province. So here in Harare when What
they Said What They Got was being done at Theatre in the Park, it was very
dangerous because every night state security agents came to watch it. Their
presence destroyed debate to a point where you always felt that it inhibited
free discussion. Now this is the problem throughout Zimbabwe. You cannot fully
freely express yourself, your own opinion, because if you said something that’s
contrary to the ruling party or the government you are an enemy of the state. At
certain times I have been told mudhara (old man) what you are saying will get
you hurt. You ask them ‘who doesn’t allow it? Who has got the right to tell me
that it’s not allowed?’ Then somebody says ‘we know you think that you are
safe, but one day things will be difficult for you’. Now, how can you, a citizen
of this country live in fear? So What They Said What they Got, to be
very honest with you, was something that was sort of an affront to the
establishment. We have got a situation where we are saying free the airwaves so
that people can have the freedom to receive information from all sides. You
have even a situation of the Censorship Board which is restrictive.
SR: Did
this play go to the Censorship Board?
WM: To be very
honest with you, I’m not quite sure. When Rooftop Promotion first did the play,
I don’t know whether it sent the copy there. Because for me the version that I
did was the revised version which we even had to discuss with the actors at the
workshop. The first one which Rooftop did, which I managed to tour with got
myself into all sorts of problems. I don’t think it went to the Censorship
Board.
SR: Normally
the government gives theatre some kind of space at Theatre in the Park, but
once you take the production outside Harare you create problems. How was it
like in Bulawayo?
WM: In
Bulawayo Metropolitan province it was fine, no problem as long as it doesn’t go
to Amakhosi. Anything that is associated with Amakhosi you got a problem,
because Amakhosi has been stigmatised as anti-government. What actually
happened was this, when I first went to stage this play at Amakhosi. The police
came and I was in the same place. They came and they didn’t consult me. After
the staging of the play the discussions didn’t quite happen as normal.
SR: Did you
perform the play in the townships of Bulawayo?
WP: I had
problems when I went into the townships. There had been an incident in town.
The people in Bulawayo don’t like ZINWA. The Bulawayo municipality is
predominantly controlled by the opposition. Now, ZINWA came there to try to
force this down their throats and there were running battles in town. In the
meantime I wanted to stage a play at Stanley Hall. Then that’s when I had
problems because the details came there, they stopped the play. The audience
was already in.
SR: Really?
Tell me exactly what happened at Stanley Hall.
WM: Stanley
Hall. Posters were put there. They came in, and once they were inside, just
about two to three minutes before the play started, because at the same time as
the people were getting in, we also had to give them literature on the state of
information gathering and dissemination in the country, a published thing which
has not been banned. So these people came, the police details and this person
(police officer) is very very well known in Bulawayo. And they say he actually
shoots people. Zenzo and Mark knew him for that. He came in. He says to me, ‘what
is this that you are trying to do?’ Then I said ‘this is my work. I’m not
trying to do anything. I’m staging a play’. So he says ‘have you got clearance
to stage a play because under POSA you must have one from National Arts
Council’. Of course National Arts Council knew that there‘s a play from the
Censorship Board. You get clearance from the Censorship Board. However, even if
the Censorship Board gives you a performing certificate, the police can still
come and stop the play because they say the regulatory authority at that particular
area can stop the play. So they said that, ‘under POSA you can’t do this’. But
I know that plays are not mentioned under POSA so I went there. They said, ‘no,
no, get these people out of this place’. I refused and I said ‘I’m not getting
them out. I’ll leave them here’. They said ‘come to the police station’ and I
said ‘let’s go’. The police said ‘move’
and I said ‘no no I’m driving, get in the car’. So I drove them to the police
station. We got there and they went in to tell their seniors. They left me
outside and they later called me inside.
WM: Ya! So he says ‘what are you trying to do?’ I said, ‘I’m not trying to do. That’s my
work. I’m staging a play’. They said you don’t have clearance under POSA to do
a play. I told them that it was not a requirement under POSA just like churches
and so on. Here it is in the law. I actually read that. Now the particular
officer didn’t know anything about Censorship Board. He didn’t ask about
Censorship Board. It was just POSA. He told me that I could not do that play
and asked me ‘why are you giving out the books to people to read?’ I said, ‘is
there a law prohibiting people from reading material? Look, anything that’s
published, that if you go to a library you can read it, can be circulated in
the country. If this was something that was anti-establishment they would have
stopped it. So you don’t ask me’. They said ‘where do you come from?’ and I
said ‘friend I think what you are doing now is harassment. I am doing my work and
why are you stopping me from doing my work. Under the constitution I’ve got a
right to do my work’. He said, ‘let me tell you this, you cannot stage this
play without clearance from the regulatory authorities. So you get it. You stop
what you are doing. You go chase those people away from the hall’. I said, ‘I’m
not going to chase them because in the first place I am the one who invited
them there. I can’t go there and chase them. You can go and chase them’. They retorted, ‘if
you are going to do this play, we are certainly going to arrest you. It was at
that point when I told him that ‘what you are doing is exactly what Smith was
doing’.
SR: Just
like that?
WM: Yah. I asked him if he knew where the name Luveve
came from and he said he didn’t know. Now it’s called Luveve Secondary School.
It was a technical college. We stopped it during the 60s. We did several riots
because there was a bad system governing the country and that thing is now a
secondary school. If what he had done was done during the ZAPU organised riots
there could have been an ugly incident. You don’t provoke people. I want to
tell you something. I’m a nationalist, for your own information. What you are doing
is very wrong, this is wrong. This is not what the people went to fight for.
You’ve gone back to the Smith days. This is wrong. They said, ‘anyway, I have
heard what you are saying. Go and stop the thing’. I said ‘then tell your boys
to go stop the thing because I’m not going to stop it. So the officers were
called inside and were told ‘this man is called Walter Muparutsa’. I told them
that I had another show which I was supposed to do before returning to Harare.
They said ‘all the shows which you are going to do here in Bulawayo, as long as
they are not cleared by the regulatory authorities (officer commanding Bulawayo
Province) you are not going to do any show’. So all the subsequent shows were
stopped. Then I thought to myself, if they allowed me to do a show at Amakhosi,
I should go back and do another show at Amakhosi. But there was real trouble
there. MMPZ then said ‘no Muparutsa you can’t do it because these people are
really out to get you. There’s trouble there. Riot police will come’.
SR: Did you
stop when the Media Monitoring Project asked you to?
WM: I
couldn’t. Because even the officers from MMPZ, Media Monitoring Project of
Zimbabwe, they were in Bulawayo at that time. And when I was actually at the
police station, they phoned me asking if I needed legal assistance. I said no,
I didn’t commit a crime I don’t need legal assistance. I’m talking to these
people who don’t understand my work. And I was saying this openly while they
were within hearing range.
SR: Now
let’s go back to you as theatre consultant for HIFA. Did you any problems with
plays that you had earmarked for HIFA from the authorities?
WM: Look I
worked for the Rhodesia Literature Bureau. First of all, I worked for Smith’s
government in the information department. Within the information department we
worked as reader translators, when you more or less translated the policy
statements. And then from there I was moved to the Ministry of Education. Then
at that time the Southern Rhodesia Africa Youth Tribunal was formed. We were
the first people to work there because these people wanted to separate black
development, in those times. They said you Africans should write in your own
languages and develop them. We were not encouraged to write in English. So the
Literature Bureau was actually there to encourage African authorship. So for most
of the playwrights one would write those things translating chapter by chapter which
we sent to the white officer who read these things. If a foreman beat up a
white person the policy stipulated that a white person could not be beaten by a
black person and we were asked to change it. We laughed about it. People don’t know that I’m coming from a long
history of struggle between governments and the arts. So with all this
experience with governments right from Smith to Mugabe there are ways of
avoiding these people sometimes. You take a script to the authorities and they
tell you to remove this chapter and that or the whole four pages of a script.
To beat the system you take out the controversial parts and send it to the
authorities. Those people are very old so they read the doctored version. Some
of them are very good friends of mine.
SR: Is that
what you did with Heaven’s Diary?
WM: Yes! I
removed certain pages and then sent it. I went back to the actors and told
them, act the play as it is. Then it went.
SR: Was it
HIFA 2005?
WM: 2005 I
think 2005 yah!
SR: Tell me
more about Vagina Monologues.
WM: Vagina
Monologues had lots of problems. They said it would not be done. It was the
title that shocked a very conservative establishment. But biologically, every
man who is on earth came through that opening but people are ashamed of talking
about it, or even mention it. It becomes a problem to those people. But it’s
really … look when God created human beings, there was nothing to be ashamed
of.
SR: Did it
go to the Board of Censors?
WM: Yes and they
said remove this and that part and I complied. Then I took it the performing
company and told them to act according to the original version.
SR: Now I
heard there was some kind of trouble with the church. What was the trouble
about? Isn’t it true that the play was staged at the Dutch Reformed Church or
Standard Theatre?
WM: The
Reformed Church is also one of those very conservative institutions. So I mean
they were not quite happy about it but it was staged. And yet that was the only
play that had three performances full houses because of the title. But not that
the play was fantastic or anything. No it was just an ordinary play.
SR: Now,
let’s go back to the issue of National Arts Council which you said controls
theatre.
WM: Yah, we
once did a play called Padare/Ekundleni when I was still working with
Davis Guzha at Rooftop Promotions. It was quite a big play. We had 50 actors,
five from each province. So with the ten provinces, it was 50. When we opened,
we invited National Arts officials. They came. We even had the National Arts’
logo on our banners, poster, the lot, everything.
SR: How
long ago was that?
WM: 2002. I
remember I left Rooftop 2002. So that’s the time Jonathan Moyo was on the scene.
National Arts Council was invited. They were our partners in the play which was
national. It was all about the essence and the importance of having debating
platforms. Now the whole issue of debating platforms in a democratic state,
even before the whites came was there. It was a wonderful platform where
everybody was given a chance to voice their concerns at the tribal council. Now
the thing is Padare/Ekundleni had problems. When Jonathan Moyo
heard about it he wasn’t happy. This whole play was written by Cont Mhlanga. It
was a commissioned play but the idea in essence came from Rooftop Promotions
and Cont was commissioned to write the project. Later on the officials from
National Arts Council came. They blessed the opening and so on. During part of
the day, the NACZ officials received a letter from the information ministry
telling them to completely disassociate themselves from that play. We don’t
even want you to be part and parcel of that play. Chipangura ran away. We then
had to engage Chipangura in a very serious discussion. And then of course being
much older than Daves I could see that Chipangura was behaving like a civil
servant. And the thing is that it became dangerous. It was very very dangerous,
because 2002 was volatile politically. That was the time Padare had to
give actors survival tactics where they would stage the play. But it was
dangerous. One of my actors from Chinhoyi was severely assaulted in Chinhoyi.
SR: What
had happened?
WM: Each
province had five actors who went round the province.
SR: Like What
they Said What they Got?
WM: NO! What They Said What They Got was not as
intensive as Padare. Padare was intensive. And we staged it at
the most dangerous time which was actually a mistake. You shouldn’t do things
like that, it’s better that you get time to go and … because some of these
plays they are more of civic education plays than anything.
SR: Now,
apart from Chipangura disassociating himself from this play how did other
stakeholders respond?
WM: Ha! We
were actually playing cat and mouse game with the police throughout the whole
production. We had to go to Mutare. The group in Mutare was stopped and then
they were told that they should produce their director and producer. So I went
there with Daves Guzha to Mutare. It was very dramatic. We got there and then
there was this PISI
SR: Ya I know these guys Police Internal Security
Intelligence (PISI)
WM: We told
the officer that we were from Rooftop Promotion. He asked us what our core
business was and we told him that he had invited us. He said our play was not
right and I asked him if he had seen the play. He said he hadn’t seen the play
but a friend of his from Chinhoyi had phoned them to say there’s a play which
encourages people not to send their grain to GMB. We told him to go and see the
play first before wasting our time. He asked why we were doing plays that
criticised the government and I asked him again if he had seen the play. I
reminded him that I came from Mutare and that I was a very responsible
person. ‘I don’t go around causing
problems like a thug. No! My job of doing plays is an honourable job as far as
I’m concerned. Since you have got contrary views, I’m saying go and watch the
play. Tonight it will be at Africa University. Then you can call us back’. He
declined and told us that artists always want to cause problems.
SR: So how
did it end?
WM: We told
him to go and watch the play.
SR: Did he
go and watch?
WM: I don’t
know if he went. But these people just carried on. Wherever they were refused
permission to perform they would stop and go to the next place because we had a
lot of venues dotted throughout the whole country. Well what they did was you
know, you get to a centre, you drum and you sing as actors. People come.
SR: Now, do
you still have the statistics of how many performances were stopped?
WM: Ha No! We
we, we managed I’d say it was almost like a 98% performance. 2% stopped. But
then you see it was all like guerrilla warfare.
How do you train actors to survive in a hostile environment?
SR: On that
note Walter, thanks. That was nice.
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