Movement vs Dancing

This image is not of the play that I attended, but merely to promote the theme of this post which is my dislike of Movement theatre. It was scoured from Google, as were most of the photographs from the plays during Fest, as photography was not permitted in most of the venues.

I have never been particularly fond of physical theatre, or Movement as I have come to call it over my years at Rhodes, my vocabulary influenced by the Drama students that I befriended. I find it strange that I am not fond of it, because I love dance. I love going to the ballet, I adore ballroom dancing and a grin spreads across my face whenever I see dancing of almost any form. So why do I not enjoy Movement?

I figured it out tonight. Watching Quarted, I figured out what it is about Movement that I don't like. Movement is to dancing as walking is to running. The process is the same - put one step in front of the other - but the method is completely different. Where dancing is graceful, I find Movement to be clumsy. Where dancing steps are subtle, I find Movement steps to be all too obvious. Where the meaning behind dancing is often obvious and motives are hardly ever hidden, I find the meaning behind Movement to be obscure, hidden from the audience so that they are left in the wake of the show trying to figure out what it was all about. You never wonder, after a ballet, what it is that you just witnessed. You just know.

I watched four pieces of Movement theatre tonight - four separate pieces, brought together by what I found to be a weak storyline. But I suppose I should be grateful - most Movement pieces don't have storylines to them at all. The actors (or should I call them performers) performed well, the moves were well choreographed, but it was still Movement. You could tell by the physical exertion, the way that the characters threw themselves around the stage rather than leaping with grace; the vicious way that they seemed to attack the moves rather than embrace them.

You have to understand that when I write this, I am not saying that Quarted is bad. Not at all. I am writing this to express my dislike of Physical Theatre in general, and Quarted is just a means to an end. If you do enjoy Physical Theatre, and I know many people who do, I would highly recommend watching it. It is well choreographed, as I mentioned earlier, and I am sure that you will appreciate it more than I did.

Name Shame

Waiting for the show to begin, I snapped this shot of the stage and the props of What's In A Name.

I like cabaret. I like singing and dancing and having a good time and I like watching cabaret shows. They tend to lift my spirit. I decided I couldn't go through fest without seeing at least one cabaret show, which is why I chose to go to What's In A Name?

I didn't know anyone performing in any of the cabaret shows, so it's not like I had that to factor into my choice. Basically, I closed my eyes and picked one that seemed to be at an appropriate time, and this was it. So Natasha and I made our way to the Bowling Club on Sunday afternoon, Natasha being more than a little skeptical about the show. We sat down in a fairly empty room, but we weren't too concerned about the audience - cabaret isn't everyone's thing after all, and it was a Sunday afternoon - people were at the fest grounds, at the fair or just relaxing after a rowdy Saturday. It was excusable. We settled into our seats and prepared ourselves for the show ahead, Natasha and I looking at the props lined up on stage and trying to guess what songs they were going to sing.

And then the show started. The man and woman walked out and stage and introduced themselves, and the singing started almost instantly. With the name song. You know the one - the one that all the little kids do:

"Lara, Lara, Bo-bara
Banana-fana fo-fara
Fee-fi mo-mara
Lara".

And they tried to get the audience involved. Something that isn't such a good plan when there are only around 25 people in the audience. It certainly wasn't a good start, and it didn't get much better.

There is no denying that the two stars had good voices. Really good voices, actually. But the songs that they chose for the show left me cringing almost as much as their faux American accents did. Of all the songs that they chose to sing, I only knew four or five, and there was little connection between any of them aside from the fact that they all included someone's name in them. Not a particularly binding link is it?

Overall, I was completely disappointed in the show. Even more so when I found out that there really were quite a number of good cabaret shows out there this fest, including Absolucy, which I didn't get to see because I work during the week and am exhausted at nights.

So.... What's in a Name? Not much apparently. Certainly not anything that you want to pay to find out.

Fest - Coming soon to a town nowhere near you!

Why does Grahamstown host the National Arts Festival? This little town in the middle of nowhere, this little town filled with University students, most of whom abandon the town at the time of the fest to run along home back to their mommies and daddies and home cooked meals. Why here?

One of my friends asked me today whether Grahamstown has a big Arts scene, and thinking about it… No. It really doesn’t. Sure, there are the plays put on by the drama students attended by their friends, fellows and lecturers and music recitals attended by more lecturers and a couple of locals. But a big Arts scene that does not make. So why Grahamstown?

I have my own theory about this, and it is purely based on my experience of Grahamstown as a town, Cape Town as a city and Johannesburg from the little time that I spent there. Picture the National Arts Festival in Johannesburg. Just think about it for one minute. Think of all the space that the organisers would have, all the places where events could be hosted, all the popular bands who could be included and the big stars who could become a part of the show. And then think about the traffic – how many people would get lost trying to find the place, how many empty theatres there would be and how little exposure the little (or littler) people would get. Think about how much would get lost in the stratosphere as people went about their daily lives. Cape Town would be better, but not by much.

By hosting the National Arts Festival in Grahamstown, you get to experience the talent that hasn’t been discovered quite yet, or the talent that has been discovered and has not been completely corrupted and taken advantage of. You get the big guys and the little guys flung together in a schedule that allows you to see them all. And there is no threat of traffic (or no real threat anyway, though there is certainly going to be more of it than on your average weekday). Think that you are going to be late because there are too many cars? Find a place to park and just walk – Grahamstown is small enough to do that after all.

In a place as small as Grahamstown, the town BECOMES fest. Everything about the town revolves around fest. It is all that anyone talks about and it is the highlight of the year every year. Where else would you have that experience? In a big city, the festival would get lost amongst the ten million other things going on. Here, there is nothing else going on! Your life becomes one of comedy and concerts, ballets and drama, shopping and eating, shows, shows, shows. You are swept up in the arts for two whole weeks, attending shows day and night that fit in with your interests and hobbies.

And then it is gone. Slowly the tourists retreat, the students return and life goes back to normal. The locals revel in the fact that the traffic has died down and they can drive again. And, before long, the talk of the festival has fallen away. Life goes on. It is over. Until next year, that is…

Why Grahamstown, you ask? Because fest wouldn’t be the same anywhere else, and we like it just the way it is.