Well, there I was, back at the theatre with an open mind and two open eyes, scanning the crowd from the highest vantage point at the Baxter Theatre, when I stopped myself. “Tony,” I said, “You’re counting black people, for God’s sake”. Had it really come to this?
People like my fellow Thought Leader blogger Sandile Memela have that effect on you. You start to think, jeez, could the oke be right? Could it be true that theatre at the Cape needs to be transformed, that the Baxter and Artscape and the NewSpace and the Little are populated by diehard white racists who haven’t yet realised we have a democracy and that they have no right to be going to the theatre if black people don’t want to go there? I didn’t want to believe it, I really didn’t, and so it had been with my heart in my mouth that I had trudged up to my secret lair.
A few weeks earlier, I had been at the NewSpace theatre and had counted about, ag, I dunno … two black people in a full house of 200-odd. I was shocked to the core. Damn, just when you think it’s safe to go out at night, there were white okes, I mean, EVERYWHERE, dude. Well, not okes, exactly. Tannies, mostly. These were clearly the remnants of the middle-aged couples who had filled the Baxter et al in the 1980s to see racist whitey shows like Woza Albert and You Strike The Woman You Strike The Rock and all those fascist shows by Barney Simon, but the men had all died out and there were just all these blue-rinsed old dears left, shaving off a few cents from their pension money for an outing at the theatre. But I tried to find solace in the hope that that night at the NewSpace was just one night at one theatre, and a papered house too, so it didn’t really seem right somehow to jump to any unwarranted conclusions.
So I went back last week. I chose my night carefully, and I told no one, lest some diehard white racist PR type cunningly sneak in a busload of people from Gugs just before curtain-up. I wanted the truth, damn it. And I chose the Baxter, not the NewSpace, just to keep all the PR people on the hop.
So here I was, halfway through my mission to find the truth about racist Cape theatre. The highest vantage point at the Baxter is really very high. It’s an eagle-eye eyrie, reached with enough steps to have your thigh muscles begging for a break. Kilimanjaro is nothing compared to the Baxter on opening night with a sprained ankle. (Did I mention that?) You need to have a glass of wine in hand to refresh yourself when you reach the summit, which luckily I had had the foresight to have in my hand, though not for long. Heights are not my best thing.
From this vantage point you have a God’s-eye-view of everyone — they don’t call it The Gods for nothing. You can gaze down from on high and have a pretty good idea of who’s who, who’s going to which theatre, who likes to have an alcoholic booster to fortify themselves for the show ahead (this varies in strength, I observed, depending on which show they were attending — the people going to Comedy Night all looked well on their way), who’s teetotal and who’s, well, not quite so white as the others.
And I was, I have to say (with some relief) somewhat heartened, for there, far below me, were at least 30 or more people of the formerly disadvantaged persuasion. That is to say, I had counted to 30 when I stopped counting, because I suddenly stopped myself when I reminded myself exactly what I was doing up there. I was counting black people. This was something an old-time beach konstabel would have done, before going up to the ones he had counted and telling them to get off the beach. This was a bad thing. This was something an old tannie in the Seventies would have done in the supermarket, before going to the manager to say she wasn’t going to shop there again if they were going to let the bladdy blacks take over the bladdy place.
The unpalatable truth could not be ignored — this was a racist thing. There was no way around it — to count people according to their race can only be racist. I was ashamed, and so I slunk back down the very many stairs until I had achieved equilibrium with my conscience and with my fellow theatregoers. Down there, we were all as one. It mattered not how many of us were white, or black, or blue with funny hair. We were people who loved the theatre, and who were there for a shot of culture, some drama, a couple of laughs, and to go home enriched.
I did not know many of the people there, having been out of Cape Town for most of the last eight years, but suddenly there appeared before me a man who stuck out his hand and said, “Tony Jackman! We haven’t met, but I’m a reader of your blog!” More astonishingly, the man with the big smiley face standing before me was one of those very black theatregoers I had counted only a few minutes earlier from my secret lair in the Gods. And then I realised that I had seen the man’s face before — right here, on Thought Leader.
I had just met Sandile Memela. And I have a feeling this may be the start of a great friendship.
Lekker!
I am touched, am one of those previously disadvantaged (thought not literally), am enjoying the fruits of my gran being so. I am totally in awe that you did that but more in awe for you admitting it.
1st step to a more positive and less racist you!
good going
You mean you got to meet the noted satarist Sandile Memela? Wow!
I love the guy’s blogs, no one seems to get his jokes…
“Down there, we were all as one. It mattered not how many of us were white, or black, or blue with funny hair. We were people who loved the theatre, and who were there for a shot of culture, some drama, a couple of laughs, and to go home enriched.” These are the best, most hopeful words I have read in a long time. The dream of a united SA has not died. I get quite emotional when I see South Africans united in their glorious, unique and world-leading diversity.
Congratulations Tony! Awareness is the first step towards transformation.
Second step is acknowledgment that racism is a big problem, particularly in CT in. I’m sure there are many out there who are still in self-denial.
Good thing you weren’t speaking at the funeral though…
Spot on. We’re hungry for positive blogs, and thats not to mean we’re not still intense about et al, et al. Think a new mood is setting in with resignation a part of it, for now. But yes, lets start looking at the positive. We all need a break.
The tableau that you have just described seems too staged (pun not intended) to be true. For me though the prospect of humiliation has been enough to deter me from venturing to your theatres. However, I must admit I have been tempted after reading reviews of interesting performances, particularly those featuring blacks. Not that I am averse to seeing, for example, a Chekov play. But I am certainly averse to condescending, brusque conduct, sniggers, or being confused with a rent boy and pawed or treated like an ingenue. There is clearly a reason black people go to these events in Cape Town in crowds. It is quite possible that what you witnessed was one of those crowds. Or an agglomeration of crowds. This passive-aggressive hostility and humiliation is intended to ensure that one avoids these places. And functions as an insidious mechanism for the exclusion and marginalization of the despised.
I have been to cinemas in Cape Town though, for example to watch movies by the likes of Woody Allen and Stephen Frears, and the experience, with a very few exceptions, has often turned out to be quite horrid. And these cinemas happen to inhabit the same social milieu as the theatres. Interesting I seldom see any blacks at these so-called art cinemas.
PS
My taste in movies is eclectic, but the reason I mention the above film-makers is that people who watch their movies are supposed to be more cosmopolitan and sophisticated. Probably not in Cape Town.
At the state theatre in pta you’ll be suprised at the diversity in the theatre. I went to watch foreplay and not only was the show highly entertaining but it was also really fun watching it in a theatre packed to the rim with countrymen of all hues.
i really wish white people would stop looking for absolution [yes, absolution] in the numbers of black people who show up in “previously all-white” spaces. conversely, i really wish black people would stop with their “we must have access to white people’s stuff because their stuff is better” mentality.
because, really? how did lil kim put it? “get your own shit, why you riding mine” — again, black peeps need to be making their own institutions instead of worshiping at the Altar of Whitey[tm].
because until people get their own shit, well, we are going to have all this kakprattery about “this is an outrage! there should be more black people in x space!” from people like sandile and “omg omg omg, it’s like totally terrible, there are, like, totally not enough black people here!” like tony.
and, really? there’s no reason that everyone *must* mix. seriously. freedom means the ability to make a living unfettered by restrictions in doing so, not “we must all hold hands and sing kumbaya”. that said, equal economic opportunity will lead towards that must faster than almost any implementation of affirmative action — which is what you lot are whining about [but i don't think y'all realise that yet, or maybe you do].
How many Chinese were in the Theatre? If you really want to address racism and start diong equal opps, dont forget all the other categories:
http://www.rad.org.uk/documents/Equa_Opps_Monitoring_From.doc
Which incidentally doesn’t include Roma/Gypsy, who turn up in the UK frequently.
@ Dave Harris
Amen to that!
To those few who are perhaps misreading my blog – how do I respond other than to say:
a) I was last in self-denial when, at the age of 14, I decided that I loathed racism and would stand against it as long as I lived – and have done so ever since. It was also about then that I started to sharpen up my sense of homour. (I had a feeling I’d need it for the apartheid years).
b) I often write with irony and humour, with forays into satire and spoof. Always with irony, and frequently with tongue firmly lodged in cheek.
c) This particular post is NOT a confession… do I really need to spell this out?
d) And finally, to anyone out there who lives in a humour-free zone – sorry, but you’ve come to the wrong blog.
Haaa, Mundundu, nice one, thank you for your sanity. And I ain’t saying OMG OMG like there are sooooo not enough black people here, btw, I’m poking fun at the idea of that. I favour nonracialism. Like, there ain’t no colour.
DAve, what makes you think that black or coloured people weren’t in the audience because of ‘racism’ in Cape Town? More likely the shows just don’t appeal! Or those theatres are just too far away from where they live.
@Stewart
You sound like Rip Van Winkle…go back to sleep dude. Haven’t you been reading Tony’s blogs?
Tony, let be honest here.
So after HUNDREDS of years of white privilege its really convenient of you to now proclaim “there ain’t no colour”. Whites have DIRECTLY benefit from the “sins of their fathers” for generations. You cannot deny this!
This degree if self-denial is what creates the chasm between blacks and whites in SA and hampers progress to the rainbow nation we all dream of.
It is a NONRACIAL environment that I strive for, Dave.