Festival weekend

We drove along the tree lined road to Hilton. Turned right and headed toward the boarding school which for the weekend shifted its focus from boys in blazers to curtain raisers. (I went for the rhyme there, even if it doesn't make complete sense). The annual Hilton arts festival brings the pick of the larger Grahamstown theatre festival to Natal. I’d whittled down my choices to three and with pre-booked tickets in hand, Rob and I descended upon the school grounds.

The mothers and aunties of the school boys and all the Hilton residents had set up tables selling hammocks, flutes and dinky doughnuts. Lucy Dolphin (in her white pants) and The Lentil Eaters in the beer tent are background music as people discuss the must-sees, drink in hand. I say to rob “behind us, red T-shirt, Mike van Graan”. He turns conspicuously then back to me says “quite big”. I turn. My fault; woman behind us eating burgers from the Royal Hotel stand also wears red T-shirt. No matter.

I spot many faces belonging to the names we read in reviews, sometimes I tell Robbie because the names are beginning to mean things to him now too. He has now seen the current works of my top-rated theatre makers and can even in some cases compare them to previous works. We’re recognizing which artists like to collaborate and how physical theatre means the characters will talk to each other like idiots. It’s because language isn’t the primary story telling medium, I explain. Nevertheless, when all the characters in all the plays have speech impediments it can become a bit much.

Play 1- Brother Number. Surreal. Performed by Rob van Vuuren (Twakkie) and James Carins (don’t know what else he has been in before but I'll be looking out for what comes after). These two characters were a bit retarded so the slow and sparse speech made sense to me. They are locked in home affairs and besides for one another, have been starved of all human contact until...

Play 2- Jutro. Directed by Helen Iskander and staring her husband James Cunningham next to Keren Tahor. A bombed out cabaret bar- Poland, World War 2. They were not retarded, maybe a little traumatized, but the lack of full sentences got a little grating. Otherwise very good.

Play 3- The Travellers. Directed by Sylvaine Strike who, with this, renewed her spot as most imaginative maker of theatre in the country. In fact, she pushed the bar up even higher. The acting trio was superb too but from the sounds of it some people thought there could have been more speaking, less animalistic 'whooping'. Baby voices and conversations containing one word or phrase tend to be less consumable. I found this play about a nuclear family of traveling circus performers to be surprising, gentle and disturbing all at once, from start to finish, gaining intensity as it progressed. A feat.

Till next year.

On another note, South Africa smashed England in the rugby. 36-0.

Now Paris is in love with the Bokke and Brian Habana is the new Jonah Lomu.