Seven

Seven years ago today, I was not in a good way.

I was upset over a boy (isn't that just typical?). I was 17 with low self-esteem that had been pushed even lower by rejection. Not even face to face rejection, but pure ignoring and avoidance. I was in need of alcohol and a good friend, and that is exactly what I got.

Lana dtagged me out of my res room, dressed me up in what must have been a nice, but is now completely forgettable outfit, and together we missioned from the top of the hill down to the Old Gaol. The place was packed. Bodies crammed together in the tight space leaving a little room at the front in anticipation of a mosh pit, and I distinctly remember the telltale scent of sweat and smoke that lingered at a lot of the events in my first year. I also remember praying that the heavens wouldn't open up on us, since we were completely out in the open. At the same time, that would probably have helped cool us all down and get rid of the smell.

Lana found us an old mattress that we pushed up against the back wall. From there, we could hear the music and escape the crowds. We were quickly joined by others, most of whom Lana knew, one of whom she didn't.

"Do you mind," he asked gesturing to the space beside me.
I smiled and nodded and turned back to my conversation.
"Puffy." He held his hand out towards me, and I shook it wondering what kind of person I had just come across. Who has a nickname like Puffy anyway?
"Lara," I replied shaking the outstretched hand. The shake lingered a little. It made me smile, and he just grinned back.

To be honest, I can't recall most of what was said that night, and I don't remember much of the music either. I do remember the scent of smoke becoming too much for me to handle, considering that I was trying to stop myself from smoking at the time. I bummed one off the closest smoker to me, which just happened to be Puffy. It got us chatting. Nothing like a cigarette to really start up a conversation.

Before I knew it, we were taking over the mattress. I was young, he was cute and I was out to have fun and forget about a guy. I suppose you could say that it was rebound, but rebound involves having a relationship, which thanks to the rejection was not something that I knew anything about. We spent the night bouncing around, dancing to Breach, heading to Friar's so that I could meet one of the bouncers and coming back to the Gaol to finish back where we started. I found Lana and was about ready to go, and he asked for my number. I gave it to him without a thought, and he must have thought that I had rattled it off a little too quickly.

"You're not giving me a fake number now, are you?"
"Of course not!"
He pulled out his phone and dialed just to double check, and sure enough the phone started ringing.
"Good! Now you have no excuse."

He left it at that, and I thought that was going to be it. One night of fun and nothing more. But when my phone rang the next day, I didn't think twice about answering it.
"I want to see you."

And so it began. From "rebound" to requited, my world began to change for the better. We saw each other almost every day for the first 3 months, what with living less than 5 minutes walk apart and all. Even when he moved further away and the walk became half an hour, we were practically inseparable. And now, 7 years down the line, here we are. Having just as much fun as that first night that we met (or I am at least) and knowing that this is just the beginning.

I love you, Grant. Happy 7 year anniversary.

Jagged Edges

A promotional image from the play, Edges, performed at the National Arts Festival. The image was found on Google.

I was wary going to another musical performance after the disaster that was What's In A Name. Natasha even more so. And yet, I had heard good things about Edges, so I wanted to give musical theatre another chance.

The fact that there was a queue to get in was a good sign. The fact that it was in a fairly big theatre was another. The fact that it turned out the guy from What's In A Name was in it? Not so much. But it didn't turn out to be half bad.

I think that I can pinpoint where Edges went right and where What's In A Name went wrong. You see, What's In A Name tried so hard to pull together songs purely by the reference to people's names. It was the only connection between the songs, and I felt that the play was trying too hard to be something that it really wasn't. Edges did not make this mistake.

Watching Edges felt like reading a collection of short stories. Each song was a story in itself, and none of them fit into each other. It was not as though the show was trying to make sense as a whole – it was merely looking at clips of people's lives. There was a bit of a theme to the songs, I realised after the show had ended, but the theme was a subtle one – it was relationships. Each song looked at relationships, whether between friends, family members or colleagues. Each song granted you a glimpse of someone else's life, and together they provided a glimpse of different kinds of relationships that people have with each other – the strengths, the benefits and the drawbacks to entering into relationships and what they look like when they work and what they look like when they don't.

Once again, the voices were fantastic. There were only two small problems that I encountered, and that is that one of the guys (the one who performed in What's In A Name funnily enough) had a terrible American accent when the rest were great and that one of the songs that was performed had also been performed during What's In A Name. I do not know if the songs were written specifically for the musical (I certainly didn't recognise any of them aside from the one that I recognised in What's In A Name), but it certainly felt like they had been written just for the actors. Each actor slid into the roles so well, it felt incredibly natural, and this was another aspect of the show that separated it from What's In A Name. The natural flow and order of things rather than the broken discussion with the audience that came between numbers.

Edges will certainly not be up amongst my favourite shows from Fest, but there have certainly been worse plays. It has not entirely reconnected me with my love for musicals, but it has restored a little of the enjoyment that I get from watching them, and was enough to convince me that, should another musical opportunity present itself, I will not hide in my room, but might consider going to see it.

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.