I promise: this is the last bit of serious, hand-wringing pontification on the state of the arts in my column for a while.
Next week I'll write about Lulu Xingwana's crush on Kim Kardashian or the Top 5 Songs To Lose Your Virginity To (I'll need suggestions, people).
In August last year, Sandile Memela wrote a rather murky and inflammatory series of articles for Artslink about the lack of "African theatre critics", the lack of "authentic African perspectives" in the evaluation of the work of African theatremakers and that black creative intellectuals were "allowing their history to be written by other people who do not understand them".
Reading as best I can between the hubris and euphemisms, it's clear that Memela was bemoaning the fact that white critics are criticising work from black theatremakers. The use of the word "African" in opposition to "white" is unfortunate, but indicative of Memela's drive for exclusion.
At the time, I dismissed Memela as a sensationalist hack, but his words came back to me after having seen Magnet Theatre's Ingcwaba lendoda lise cankwe ndlela.
Now, here's a production that tells a story indigenous to the rural Eastern Cape told in pure, traditional Xhosa. It featured English surtitles that didn't really aid my understanding. I came away bewildered and frustrated. I kept wondering to myself, in a clanging echo of Memela's six-month-old words: "Am I just not black enough to appreciate this?"
For the record, I'm a coloured from The Flats and, historically, am not white or black enough.
I've thought about this long and hard and come to a conclusion: South Africa isn't for wussies. You need to be tough to live here. You need to be tough to tell stories about life here. And you need to be tough to criticise the stories being told.
Living in South Africa is a scary, joyous, challenging experience that is enriched by the many cultures we have swirling about in the air. To engage with them, you have to be brave and dauntless, prepared to leave your comfort zone in order to access other areas of South African life. To shy away from a story because it doesn't reflect your existence is cowardly and contrary to the values that we as South Africans are trying to establish.
I'll keep writing about black theatremakers as I'll keep writing about white theatremakers and every other colour in-between. It would be a leap backwards to decree that only certain people can engage with certain works. The role of art is to confront, challenge and stimulate all who engage with it and to enforce segregation is a throwback to apartheid.
Critics need to work harder here than in other parts of the world. There's so much going on and so much changing in every corner of the land that it requires dedication, sensitivity and a healthy measure of schizophrenia to appreciate the work being produced here.
By the same measure, work that deliberately excludes other sections of the public cannot condemn critics in view of the current lack of regard given to the arts and arts writing. We need more black theatre writers in the same way we need more black theatremakers. But, trust me, there are some "African theatre critics out there".
And we aren't wussies.
P.S. I'm fairly serious about the Top 5 Songs To Lose Your Virginity To. What are yours?
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