Memory of Water

Tonight came close to being a good night. And, in fact for awhile it was! I got to go to an amazing show, I got to spend time with Grant and I had a nice dinner. And then it failed.

But let me start from the beginning. I got to go to an amazing show! It is one of the few shows that I am going to this fest (unlike last year when I had a plan practically every night). And I will admit from the outset that I may be a little biased about it - it was directed by a good friend after all. But that is no reason to let the awesomeness slide. I didn't know what to expect from The Memory of Water. I had read the summary of course, but you know summaries - they don't tell you very much. I even convinced Grant that he had to come along. It took a little persuading, but he relented, especially after I bought him his ticket.

And so, at 17:45 we made our way to NG Kerk Saal to go and see The Memory of Water, directed by Deborah Robertson. I had a little trouble getting in (booking through Computicket and collecting the tickets at the door is not a good plan) but we managed with some time to spare and took our seats towards the middle of the room. Two of the actors stayed on stage while people found their seats, one sleeping while the other smoked to add to the atmosphere that the play was to provide. And then it started.

From the first few lines, I was intrigued. And I stayed that way throughout the play. There wasn't a moment of boredom, there wasn't a moment where I thought that it might have been running to long, there wasn't a moment where I regretted going to the show. The acting was superb, the timing was perfect and, even when things went wrong like the set falling over halfway during the show, they didn't skip a beat as the eldest sister exclaimed "Old house!" and they continued with the script. It was funny, it was poignant, it was heartwrenching and it was amazing. I left smiling and filled with warmth, and I would recommend that everyone snatch up the opportunity to see the show before it finishes on Saturday.

Once the play was over, it was time to grab some dinner. Grant wanted to catch the football, so there was no chance of heading home to cook. So we decided to go to the Albany Club. We tend to go there occasionally for lunch and we knew that they would be open for dinner during fest, they are usually quick and make decent meals, so we decided that would be the place to go. We arrived and quickly found a seat. We had been hoping for a table in the bar area since it is warmer and more lively, but no such luck. Nonetheless, we got a table and settled down for a nice meal. The menu was pretty much the same as it always is - typical pub meals of burgers, calamari, chops, etc. with a few Fest additions like Kudu steaks and Butter Chicken. Grant decided to take advantage of the festival and go for the kudu, while I decided on the calamari. The food was decent and came fairly quickly and I was looking forward to dessert when Grant saw the time out of the corner of his eye and realised that he had to run. Which was fine. I ordered the bill as he ran out of the door and waited for it to come. And waited. And waited some more. A table came in and sat down next to me, ordered, got their food and I was still waiting. The other table finished their meal, got the bill and left and I waited. Finally my waiter came in and asked if I wanted the bill because it seemed that my partner wasn't coming back. To which I responded, with frustration. "Yes, I want that bill. That's why I asked for it 25 minutes ago!" Five minutes later he came back with it, and then left. I waited five more minutes before deciding that it was enough and walking through to the kitchen to pay. My waiter found me there and brought over the card machine. Only to say, "I don't know how to do this". It is not rocket science. Once one of the managers had rung it up, he then handed me both the slip for the restaurant and the one that I am supposed to keep. It boggles my mind.

Anyway, I was more than a little annoyed after this, and I made my way to PnP only to park in front of someone who appeared to be taking some coke in front of my car, not wanting to move out of the way which, though not directly affecting me, still pissed me off even further.

So no, despite a wonderful play and a decent dinner, I am sad to say that it has not been a good night. Here's hoping that tomorrow will be better!

Fine dining

Masters directing student, Deborah Robertson, directs Taste at the National Arts Festival in Grahamstown. Image found via Google.

What does it take to get a show into Festival? Natasha and I have been wondering that a lot over the last week. Is there a selection process? If there is, how do some of the crappier shows like Paperboy get through it?

I can tell you one thing - for a student doing a masters in directing, getting a play into fest takes a lot of time, a lot of planning and a lot of hard work. I can tell you this, because I have seen my friend, Debbie Robertson, attempting to write and direct her first Festival play over the last few months. What was the outcome of her attempt? Taste.

I was really excited when I arrived at the monument and made my way down a staircase, around a corner, down more staircases and around more corners and eventually found the Rehearsal room. For those who have never been there, I can understand why - it is completely hidden and the back and in the basement, and I wouldn't have even known where I was going if it wasn't for all the other people making their way to the same place. By the time we got to the door, the room was packed and we were some of the last people to find seats together. The seats that we found were not particularly good ones either, I had to squiggle and squirm to see the stage, which meant that the entire play was spent in discomfort. But it was totally worth it to see Debbie's debut.

Taste is about a weekend retreat that a handful of friends go on to the middle of nowhere. Upon arrival, everyone needs to hand over their keys, cellphones and laptops so that no contact with the outside world can be made - it is a weekend for friends, after all. A chance to get away from reality for a little bit. But when one of the characters goes missing things start to descend into chaos and what is supposed to be a weekend of fun and fine dining turns into a murder mystery.

Artsy, humorous, mysterious and fun, Taste goes to show what Debbie can do when she puts her mind to it. The actors and actresses gave some great performances as well, but Debbie was the real star of the show. Perhaps I only see it this way because I know what went into the making of it, but considering how many people were supporting her and cheering her on, I don't think I am alone in that opinion.