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!

A Little RnJ

An image of the cast of Shakespeare's R&J performed at the National Arts Festival this year. The image was sourced from Google.

Romeo and Juliet – it is a classic story that everyone knows. It is a play that just about every teenager dreads and a title that elicits groans as high-schoolers prepare to study it. It is Shakespeare’s most studied work, particularly in high schools, and contains one of the most misunderstood lines of Shakespeare’s works – “Romeo, Romeo, Wherefore art though Romeo?” No, she is not asking where Romeo is. She is asking why he has to be Romeo, a Montague, rather than someone from a family that hers does not hate.

Whether you love or hate it, there is one thing that you cannot deny – Romeo and Juliet, as well as pretty much every other Shakespeare play involving men and women – is incredibly sexually charged. This is something that a group of four borders at an all-boys school discover when they act out the play after lights-out one night in Shakespeare’s R&J.

The boys go on a journey through Shakespeare’s writing, dissecting it, bringing out the humour in it, and the tragedy. The fact that all four of the characters acting out the scenes are boys brings up a number of issues such as homosexuality and the acceptance, or denial, of it. As the boys act out the play in the privacy of their rooms, the fury of the characters at the unacceptable joining becomes the fury of their peers. The fact that the entire play is acted out by four boys also adds an aspect of humour to the play that was not originally there as actors change characters at the drop of a hat using props and accents to distinguish which character they are playing when.

The fact that there are four characters, that they were all teenage boys and that it was a play within a play brought a whole new dimension to Romeo and Juliet, and it was one that I thoroughly enjoyed. Humour, drama, romance – it was all there, and it was all compounded into two and a half hours of wild, hilarious, heart wrenching fun.

If you want to see a new take on an old classic, I highly recommend watching Shakespeare’s R&J.

Fighting

A promotional image for Love at First Fight found via Google.

I fight with Grant. Rather a lot. Over the stupidest things too - who's going to do the laundry; who's going to do the cooking; who comes home at 2am on weeknights, etc. It doesn't mean that we don't love each other, we just bicker quite a bit about the normal boy/girl relationship things. Which is probably why I appreciated Love at First Fight as much as I did.

Love at First Fight is a comedy about two people in a relationship and one particularly important night that leads to fights from the past being dredged up. Through a collection of catchy beats and amazing dance moves, you get a glimpse of a real relationship - what goes wrong and what goes right and how these two people deal with their differences.

The duo that do Love at First Fight are not new to fest, and are not new to relationships. They are a married couple who have won awards for their previous fest productions. The show itself is not new either - it was introduced to festival in 2009 as Relationshit, however a show in Cape Town emerged with the same name which was, well, shit, and the name change was initiated so that they would stop being confused with the rubbishing namesake.

Because they are in a relationship themselves, the show is filled with chemistry as well as hilarity, and it is almost as though they are speaking from experience and taking from every single relationship that has ever been and mashing it together to create this hit of a show. Everyone will find something to relate to in the characters and their actions, and will recognise something of themselves.

I would highly highly recommend seeing this show. I classify this and London Road as the two best shows that I have seen this fest (thus far). It is a small theatre, however, so make sure that you book tickets - pitching up at the door is unlikely to get you in.

Purging the Soul

Dawid Minnaar and Terry Norton play the man and woman in Ariel Dorfman's Purgatorio, being performed at Graeme College throughout the National Arts Festival. Image acquired from here.

I wasn’t quite as excited as I should have been, I can tell you that much to start off with. I had come from a long day of work and the only thing I wanted to do was run a bath so hot that it would practically make my skin melt, pick up The Lovely Bones and have a nice long soak.

Instead I had to whip up a quick dinner with the few ingredients lying around the house (since there was no way I was going to head to the disaster area that had become Peppergrove Mall to get groceries), take a few minutes to enjoy eating it and then head back into the icy night to go and watch a play. Usually the prospect of a play, particularly the first major play of fest, would bring a smile to my face, but I just wasn’t in the mood. But I bucked up, pasted a smile on my face and was on my way to Purgatorio.

As we arrived at Graeme College, the excitement started to dawn on me a little bit, particularly when we got inside the building and out of the cold wind, and I became a little more chatty and chirpy. We bought drinks, sweets and sat on a bench chatting away until we were called into the auditorium. Where we sat in some of the most uncomfortable seats imaginable for a good 20 minutes before the play actually started. I know that you are supposed to arrive at plays 30 minutes early so that people can get seated and there won’t be any interruptions caused by late comers. But if you ask people to come half an hour early, at least make sure that the play starts on time.

While I waited, rather impatiently, for the play to start, I absentmindedly glanced over the pamphlet about the play that had been placed on every seat. It included a note from the director and an account of the Greek myth that the play was based upon – that of Jason and Medea. I will not go into detail about this myth and I will explain why later.

By the time the play did actually start, I was cold again despite the respite from the wind and the jacket that I had thought would be warm enough. I ended up writhing around a lot of the time to try and keep my hands warm, and I imagine that the people behind me must have been getting very annoyed and frustrated with my constant movement.

The entire play, as the title suggests, takes place in purgatory. Only purgatory in this case is not like the purgatory that Susie Salmon experiences in The Lovely Bones. It is not a beautiful place filled with joys and everything that your heart desires. Instead it resembles a prison cell or a room in a mental asylum. Each soul is assigned a healer to try and help them through the process of forgiving themselves and those that did them wrong, of moving on, and once that is done they are promised that they will return to earth.

The play revolves around two characters: a man and a woman – one the healer, the other the patient – who try to help each other through their purgatories by reliving the events that brought them to this place, the horrors of their pasts.

Now for the reason why I refuse to go into too much detail about the play itself and the myth that it is based upon. I read all the detail that was given about the play. I read the myth that was provided, and I felt that I would have enjoyed the play far more if I hadn’t know the myth, if it had been a surprise to me. I would have found it a lot more interesting if I hadn’t know what was coming.

That doesn’t mean that I didn’t enjoy the play over all. I did. The acting was incredible; the music haunting, the premise of the play brilliant. I just think that part of the brilliance of the play is the shock, the surprise, the unexpectedness. The play is not of the confusing sort that, should they leave details hidden in the previews and explanations, the attendants would get lost. It would be easy enough to follow along and understand what is happening, and I think that I would have gotten a far better feeling of accomplishment from following the play that way than I felt from watching, already knowing.

In any case, I really do suggest that if you are in Grahamstown for the festival, or if you are in Cape Town when the play is shown at the Baxter, you watch it. I highly recommend it. But I also highly recommend not looking too much into it. Trust me, the surprise will be worth it.