THEATRE IN SOUTH AFRICA

by
Dr. John Kani
- Market Theatre, South Africa

Under colonialism and apartheid the culture of the majority of South Africans was neglected, distorted and suppressed. Freedom of expression and creativity were stifled. People and communities were denied access to resources and facilities to exercise and develop their need for cultural and artistic expression. Illiteracy, the lack of an effective educational system and extreme poverty compounded this cultural deprivation. (ANC 1994:69)

The struggle of African people against colonial powers and subsequently against the apartheid regime was the most unifying factor that made all ethnic/tribal differences amongst the African peoples seemingly irrelevant and unimportant. The work of our poets applauded nature and the people that were in oneness with it. The storytellers told of the heroes who fought great battles against one another and later against colonial powers. Our great artists created images in wood, stone, caves and on canvas that reflected our culture with great pride. The songs and dances were about who we are, where we come from and where we are going. But once the intentions of the colonials became clear the culture of resistance was born. Poems and songs and stories spoke of our suffering and the evil of the oppressor. Sculptures and paintings bore the pain and indignity of our people. The voice of defiance grew from a whisper to a deafening roar in the ears of the oppressor. The oppressor responded with vicious power to obliterate any form of resistance from my people as expected. Not only were our Kings and leaders jailed, exiled and eliminated but the entire population was forced into silence by draconian laws of the regime. It was then that the artist had to find, ingeniously, other means of expressing the anger, the joys, the frustrations, the hopes and the aspirations of our people.

The artist had to assume an added responsibility to his people and the struggle. No longer could he hide under the pretext of being just an entertainer but had to stand up and also be counted. And thus the so-called "protest" theatre was born. Communities began to judge the work of artists by the presence or absence of relevance to the struggle. That which was pure entertainment and did not reflect the conditions of the people politically and socially was shunned by audiences as irrelevant theatre. And Theatre that reflected strongly the every day struggles of our people was embraced by the people.

This form of activity in the arts created a new breed of writer, poet and performer. If the message was right and acceptable to the people, structure and quality of the work could be compromised. To avoid prosecution by the apartheid government, none of these works were put to paper as this would provide evidence that could be used against them. Workshop collaborations in play-making became the new method of creating work.

It is this theatre, born from the paths of our countryside and streets of our cities, informing and celebrating the lives and courage of our people that has won us our greatest acclaim and affected the theatre of our workers and our youth. This list, from SIZWE BANSI IS DEAD, THE ISLAND, WOZA ALBERT, BOPHA, ASINAMALI, BORN IN THE RSA, SARAFINA, THE SUIT, YOU STRIKE THE WOMAN YOU STRIKE THE ROCK is endless. The acclaim has not been limited to our subject matter but to the quality and originality of our work.

In the past two years South Africa has undergone a transition that must be among the most compelling in modern human history. For the first time since European settlement, the majority of the people of our country have a government that they trust. Although confronted by mammoth challenges, South Africa is alive with a new sense of pride and possibilities. Trust is essential to true communal survival and when it exists it must be nurtured and celebrated. Since the early Seventies our theatre has been a simple and constant alternative not only to divisive apartheid legislation but to its stunted soul. It has proven that it is possible for our many cultures to meet, enter into dialogue, consider each other's lives, entertain, comment and create together.

Our theatre has led to work that has not only given dignity to South African theatre in this country, but won acclaim and concern for South Africa abroad. At times, in the eighties, when newspapers were censored, political leaders, either in prison, banned, silenced or exiled, our theatre spoke of the world that we lived in. A major concern has been for the creation of a South African voice at a time when the majority of our population was seriously impaired in its expression in South Africa through lack of funds and education. There are eleven vernacular languages in this country and English has been the most commonly chosen as a language of expression in the urban areas. Black theatre makers have been greatly limited in this respect because of the limitations of an inferior system of education designed for African people by the previous government. It became our policy as dramatists to make theatre in the spoken language of all the people, freeing it from these limitations.

With the end of apartheid and South Africa's isolation by the international community we do not see our commitment to our people as lessened or completed. We are awed by the amount of talent that surrounds us and challenged to develop and celebrate it in the new South Africa that we are only just beginning.

The Market Theatre opened its doors in June 1976 when white policemen were shooting down black school children in the streets of Soweto. In defiance of the fact that race relations were the worst in the history of this country and in defiance of apartheid laws, we insisted that our stages and auditoriums be open to anyone, whatever their race or colour. We created work that was a mirror of our society in which our different cultures might find an image of themselves and each other. When we were investigated by the Secret Police it was discovered that because we were in an industrial zone our mixed audiences and players were legal. Although none of us could live on our Market Theatre salaries we refused to apply for subsidy from the apartheid regime.

We have continued for 20 years as an island of sanity, as evidence of the fact that black and white could meet, discuss, interchange and create together as a seed for our new South Africa. We took our inspiration from the lives of our people, from their streets and workplaces and when newspapers were forbidden from informing us, the Market Theatre did.

The Market Theatre style has always been a frugal one, not initially of our choice but through lack of funds because we refused dogmatically to accept subsidy from the apartheid regime. Our major investors have always been our theatre workers who accepted minimal salaries in their support of the Market Theatre. Most of us had to earn our living elsewhere.

In 1990, financed largely by the Rockefeller until now, the Market Theatre Laboratory was created under the direction of the late Barney Simon and myself. It provides theatre skills and drama training to people unable to afford universities or without proper academic credentials. It hosts four two-month experimental projects a year where participants selected by a panel are able to work seven hours a day without any obligation to perform as a result at the end of the two month period. Up to three times a week, visiting groups sometimes from hundreds of kilometres away perform show-cases before regular audiences, field-workers and professionals. Intense discussions and appraisals follow each performance. Trained field-workers will work further with groups if invited. Field-workers go out to run workshops in all the townships of our region, and sometimes even on the borders of South Africa.

Regular tours of school Set Works, particularly Shakespeare and poetry go to violence torn and poorly served schools in the Transvaal. In recent years unrest and world-wide recession have affected audience attendance, but theatre activity in the townships, judging by the list of showcases hosted each year, is thriving and very much alive.

Despite all the dangers of Township life, young people gather every evening to rehearse plays in kitchens, bedrooms, back-yards, garages and church-halls. This extraordinary courage and energy is the Market Theatre's commitment and investment in the future. With the increase of violence in our communities and economic recession, our existence has become increasingly threatened. Corporate funding has diminished because of other pressing social needs. Inner city violence and poor policing of the area has made our geographical location undesirable to the people from the northern suburbs. Lack of safe public transport, money and security has affected our black patronage even more severely.

We remain as committed to our community today as we were in June 1976 when we opened. Today, mutants of another terrible time, we struggle with the rest of our country to even comprehend the possibilities ahead. We know that the struggle will be different but no less greater, before we achieve the South Africa that we dream of.

We did not set out to be a political theatre, but a mirror to our world. When the mirror reflected apartheid, what else was there to discuss? And if today, the mirror reflects our new democracy that is what we will talk about. Today the reflection is much more complex and changing every day. We stand for it.

We see evidence of extraordinary courage, energy and potential in the works of young township people from the whole of the Transvaal who perform in our Laboratory and its Festivals. That they happen under circumstances as terrible as the times they were created in, is nothing less than a miracle. Maybe one percent of our population is aware of this miracle in the face of violence and horrors of the years we have lived through. Every week they reflect new problems. We want to nurture the lives and talents of these young people and give them the dignity and recognition that they deserve. We want to present them on our stages. This is all we want to do and we need the means to achieve this. We know that the Market Theatre is part of their dreams.

Indeed, for many South Africans the end of the cultural boycott meant a flood of prestigious input from abroad -- to us it represents new challenges. When we think of importing, and there are many top international artists and theatres who have expressed their eagerness to perform at the Market Theatre, we also think of skills and inspiration, great teachers for the artists and administrators of our country, as evidenced by the Workshops conducted by the Royal National Theatre Studio of Great Britain, in the classrooms surrounding the Market Theatre, and of being free ourselves from pressures that prevent us from sharing the wealth of experience we have gained abroad. We welcome all works and artists of quality, but we will not diminish our prime concern for the development of the extraordinary talent that surrounds us in our own country.

Whatever the vicissitudes of our past twenty years, we have struggled to remain a service to our community. We have given consideration to all the sectors of our communities in the choice of the works we present. These are always serious decisions, but there is one constant which few can deny, our auditoriums always ring with the sound of laughter. Our country's sound of survival.