As those who work in sports, tourism and the media celebrated the final 100-day countdown to the Fifa World Cup this week, South Africa’s artists and performers are still in the dark about their role in the staging of the world’s biggest sporting event.
Despite having begun discussions in 2006 with arts practitioners, the national department of arts and culture obstinately refuses to release the details of the projects and programmes it will be funding this year. Either they haven’t drawn up such a list or they have, but are afraid to release it for financial or political reasons. Either of those scenarios is terrifying.
Whatever lies behind the department’s silence, the fact remains that we have just over three months to put together a showcase of our national arts and culture. By now productions should be deep in rehearsal; work should have been commissioned a year ago; the finishing touches should be the only outstanding elements. We should know what we are going to do and we should be shouting it from the rooftops.
But we sit with nothing. No direction, no leadership, no funding. No strategy. Just the expectation that, somehow, artists will pull through and it will all be okay. Because they usually do. Because artists are born to perform and they will always make a plan — even if it is at the last minute or for paltry fees. It’s what they do, it is in their blood.
And time and again the artists come to the party while the fatcat politicians dither before lurching forward to lap up the credit and the photo opportunities.
More than a month ago the minister of arts and culture, Lulu Xingwana, dissolved a task team she had set up to assess proposals from artists. She declared their work concluded and thanked them for it. She told the media that projects were being finalised and that the result of funding applications would be made known “as soon as possible”.
Why was it not possible to announce them the next day? Or the next week? Or within three weeks? What is the hold-up, minister? Do you not know how you’re going to spend your budget this year? Is there a budget? Are the rumours of missing money true? Or are your department officials stalling so they can find ways of funnelling the funding to their friends, bypassing the recommendations of your respected task team?
Artists should all boycott the Fifa World Cup. Stay at home, refuse to perform. Let the minister do a song and dance routine.
Let the country cringe when substandard work is trotted out in front of billions of TV viewers and hundreds of thousands of visitors.
Let Ras Dumisani sing all the national anthems. Hold the latest M-Net Idol up as the best we have to offer. Let people realise what they’ve got to lose by taking it away and showing them the massive hole that is left behind.
There are some who might make the case that artists shouldn’t be reliant on government handouts to stage their work. In an ideal world they would be right. In a South Africa where the National Lottery was functional and efficient they would be right. In a South Africa where the National Arts Council didn’t have its annual budget slashed to R14-million a year they would be right. If we weren’t in the middle of a recession they would be right.
But none of that is true. And right here, right now, government has a duty to ensure that our country’s artists are protected and their work is supported. It’s about nation-building, social cohesion and national pride. And God knows we need all three of those right now.
While her department stalls, national institutions have to tread water. Individual performers and small independent companies who requested funding have to put their lives on hold. No one can commission. No one can rehearse. And so the World Cup will look like a Christmas party the day after — the same tired old acts being trotted out to perform the same tired old routines. No cutting edge. No adventure. No excitement. Nothing to be proud of.
June 2010 is going to be an extraordinary month in South Africa’s history. The country is ready to welcome the world and, unexpected disasters notwithstanding, chances are it will be declared a success. It is a pity that our national treasures — our singers, songwriters, dancers, actors, playwrights, artists and directors — the very people who are expected to create the party will miss it.
So “100 days to go” is meaningless to artists. It’s no cause for celebration. It’s cause for terror and fear of the pending shambles. And anger at the massive opportunity lost.
The writer of this piece is an arts practitioner who wishes to remain anonymous so as not to jeopardise future funding from the department of arts and culture