/ 9 February 2003

Mandela’s night at the opera

The first African opera, based on the life story of a Zulu princess who chronicled in song the brutalities of British colonialism, opened here last week to huge acclaim, not least from star guest, Nelson Mandela.

Princess Magogo kaDinizulu, an exuberant mix of European and African musical traditions, is playing, ironically, at the Pretoria State Theatre, former showcase of apartheid’s cultural icons.

Magogo, daughter of Zulu King Dinizulu and mother of current Home Affairs Minister, Chief Mangosuthu Buthelezi, was renowned for her musical skills, particularly on the ugubhu, a traditional Zulu single string gourd bow instrument which is revived for the opera.

It opens with her birth, coinciding with the welcome home party for her father, Dinizulu, who had been imprisoned on St Helena by the British. The first act ends with the severed head of a local chief, Bambatha, flung onto the stage by a British officer, and the re-arrest of Dinizulu. His last instruction to his daughter, an accomplished singer, is to dedicate her life to recording the destruction of his tribe by the colonists.

Magogo and her brother are subsequently orphaned and abused by foster parents before she finds fleeting happiness with a man she loves. That, too, is thwarted when her brother, now crowned king, persuades her to marry a dignitary from a rival clan to unite their fractured tribe. It’s all sacrifice and duty for Magogo but she finds solace in her music and her role as custodian of her people’s musical traditions.

The title role is played by mezzo soprano Sibongile Khumalo, whose own musical development as an adolescent was heavily influenced by Princess Magogo, a family friend.

The pathos of the narrative is leavened by sublime singing by Khumalo and a cast that includes several leading operatic stars. Athletic Zulu dancing and innovative ethnic costumes combine to create an intoxicating production.

Princess Magogo is another sign of the artistic renaissance taking place as South Africa searches for a post-apartheid cultural identity. Distinctly African, it celebrates its European influences. It dwells on the pain of the past but also looks to a more hopeful future.

The successful staging of the World Summit on Sustainable Development last year and the Cricket World Cup now seem to have contributed to a new sense of national confidence about South Africa’s place in the world. The country’s role as leader of the developing world’s opposition to the proposed war on Iraq is more evidence of this. Having an elder statesman with the moral authority of Mandela helps, of course.

Mandela figures in another new production here being hailed as a turning point in local culture: John Kani’s Nothing But The Truth .

Kani, veteran of such iconic apartheid protest dramas as The Island and Sizwe Banzi is Dead , has come up with a new masterpiece. Set in an African township home, it combines a catharsis of the past with a vision of the future that is finding a resonance with audiences here.

Kani plays Sipho Makhaya, a conservative librarian who has to bury his brother, Themba, a legendary African National Congress activist who has died in exile in London. Themba’s ashes are brought home by his daughter, Mandisa, a funky young Londoner who knows nothing of her African roots apart from the nostalgic ramblings of her now-dead father. The stage is thus set for often hilarious clashes between patriarchal Africa and cool Britannia.

Sipho has to come to terms with the fact he will never be the first black chief librarian — that job goes to a young former exile, like his brother (and President Thabo Mbeki) — but he does write to the President to remind him who elected him and to demand in return a section on African literature for the library of which he, Sipho, will be in charge.

There’s a humour about Kani’s work, and an optimism that echoes a national mood — the disappointments of life under democracy and the importance of finding confidence to determine your fate. It’s about a nation growing up. – Guardian Unlimited Â