Bigger than language

Arts and culture is supposed to bring us together – it is 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 that 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 learnt.

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 that 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 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 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.

A hundred and fifty years ago, Indian Methodists could worship in their mother tongue. Now almost none of the congregations in the Indian communities in Durban is able to do that. Church services are conducted mostly in English.

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

Podbrey has gathered around him Zulu-speaking heavyweights such as actor-writer-director Bheki Mkhwane and Nthuthukoyabe Nguni Khuzwayo from the Congress of Traditional Leaders to create a new theatre company, Just in Time Productions, to be launched in Durban in April. It will be 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 Zulu as uThembalethu.

Another interesting initiative is the Netherlands-sponsored Twist project that 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 Durban’s Catalina Theatre last month.

What was heartening to see is that most of the productions were to some extent bilingual – with narrative weaving comfortably between English and Zulu. Other Musho productions were also effectively multi-lingual.

In the groundbreaking 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 okay.

In fact, my favourite 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.

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.