It’s no use just shouting from the sidelines about the threat to the National Symphony Orchestra, argues Bongani Ndodana
ONE of the sad legacies of apartheid cultural policy was the false sense of security it brought to the arts. Provincial performing arts councils were formed and theatres, opera houses and concert halls erected as if to monumentalise the supposed cultural supremacy of Afrikanerdom.
The Eurocentric arts (a sad misnomer in itself) were given exclusive protection and allowed to flourish at the expense of indigenous art forms, not to mention the even more pressing moral obligation of social development and improving the quality of life of all the citizens of this country.
This exclusive protection created a culture of entitlement among our privileged white artists. Their hands were unsoiled by the rigours of campaigning for funding to perpetuate their creativity. The state, through its cultural organs, was always there to keep the corps de ballet prancing about, or this or that provincial orchestra churning out a Mozart overture and an excruciating rendition of a German romantic symphony. Very few artistic institutions seemed to concern themselves with addressing the inequalities that affected their sphere of operation.
“But we have this development programme in the township …” But why on earth did it take so long? It seems that now, in this time of political correctness, one must justify one’s existence through development programmes and outreach projects. In addition to these ventures being terribly overdue – by one or two centuries – most lack credibility and smack of mere tokenism.
The bottom line is that the audiences that want to see ballet or opera must be able to put their money where their mouths are. It’s no use shouting from the sidelines, bickering and complaining. If folk want to see Carmen or listen to a symphony concert, the privileged folk must be prepared to dig a little deeper into their pockets.
And on the point of audiences – be a bit more daring, explore the potential of your artistic palate a bit. Nineteenth-century romanticism does not define “good” art. This elitist snobbery is dangerous; one assumes certain art forms to be superior over others without judging the quality of the work in question and its intricacy.
An interesting drama unfolded in Cape Town recently. The Cape Town Symphony Orchestra and the Cape Philharmonic were both facing closure due to government subsidy cuts.
The matter was highly emotional to some Capetonians – here was a sacrosanct cultural icon about to disappear into thin air just because a black government was in power. On the other hand, most of the non- white communities displayed a perturbing yet sobering indifference – what good was the orchestra to them and their communities? How would it enrich their quality of life in their zinc-and-wood shack in Khayelitsha? Will the sounds of Katchaturian and Ralph Vaughn-Williams ever bathe the walls of Site B Hall?
Professor William Makgoba brought to the fore the issue of “Africanisation” at the University of the Witwatersrand. It is a concept that is highly underrated and often dismissed without any in-depth inspection.
There are 21 university campuses in South Africa. As institutions based on African soil, how many of them offer ethnomusicology – let alone African music – as a core degree subject? Why is there this infatuation with dead old German men?
Theologians have coined a term – inculturation – which, loosely defined, means Christianity (or any faith for that matter) is adapted to a specific ethnic culture without people forsaking most of their rituals and the ways of their forebears.
Perhaps it is in this way that new artistic movements will emerge from the current South African scenario: by taking elements from Africa and combining them with elements from Europe, India, and the Arab world.
The possibilities seem endless, as the demography of our nation is so diverse. This has begun to show itself in, for example, the choreography of Boyzie Cekwana and the work of the Co-opera Ibali Lomculo company, which is trying to demystify opera and bring it to little hamlets like Alice and Hogsback in the Eastern Cape.
The operative word is attitude – one can see this as the beginning of the end or the end of the beginning for Western arts. People will be forced to descend from the ivory towers and fight for their survival with rigorous marketing, effective and meaningful development programmes and passion. Yes, we will have fewer orchestras and opera companies, but they will be committed artists of world quality. Then, contrary to popular opinion, the music will never stop.
Bongani Ndodana is a composer and broadcaster based in Cape Town. He is currently working on his second commissioned opera