The National Arts Festival in Grahamstown is Africa’s largest arts festival, offering a bounty of arts, crafts and foods, as well as riveting musical and dramatic performances.

 

As I work at my writing table, I’m distracted by the sound of clapping hands and singing voices. I look through the barred living room window of our apartment and see ten men and women, all dressed in royal blue, dance-stepping their way across the lawn beyond the clothesline yard, with its chainlink fence topped by razor wire. A young man hurries to catch up with the group, his feet kicking out quick, sharp movements, as though he is unable to soothe them into the slower, rhythmic movements of the rest of the troupe. Who are these people? Where are they from? What are they singing about?

For nine days, Grahamstown has been abuzz with the annual National Arts Festival, which will wind up its “11 Days of Amazing” on Sunday.

The festival opened on July 2. That morning, mid-winter cold brushed my face as I jogged through Rhodes University campus and uphill toward the 1820 Settlers National Monument on Gunfire Hill. My calves tightend into knots on the steep climb, so I walked the rest of the stone trail, determined to conquer Gunfire Hill before I leave South Africa. As I neared the summit, I heard the sounds of drums and singing and caught sight of a group of performers, their backs to me and the newly risen sun. Their voices floated out over the cold air. Mist hung in the valley and swathed hills behind them. Cloud shot through with sunlight cascaded over the scene while a videographer and sound technician captured the performance. The National Arts Festival in Grahamstown – an annual event and the  largest arts festival on the continent – had begun! (Tap on photos to enlarge.)

On Rhodes University campus, stone walls are plastered with posters advertising shows – dance, music, comedy, drama, musical theatre – and every day, Prince Alfred Street is jam-packed with vehicles. The nearby Transnet Village Green Fair (usually referred to simply as the Village Green) is cluttered with locals and visitors checking out a dozen huge white tents that house arts, crafts, clothing and food vendors.

Last weekend,Vilis and I had a “festival weekend.” We checked out all the vendors, both at the Village Green and at the downtown market next to the Cathedral of St. Michael and St. George, a classically beautiful Anglican cathedral. After experiencing the market hubbub and threading our way among close-packed stalls off the thoroughfare, the cathedral’s graceful interior, with its columns of dark marble topped by pale stone arches, was like an oasis of peace.

We took in five shows. My favourite was The Old Man and the Sea, a drama based on Hemingway’s novel and performed by three gifted actors, two of whom played multiple roles. In my mind, I could see the old man’s dream of the beaches of Africa, with the lions stepping onto the sand in the evening and playing like house cats.

My second favourite performance was Dalin Oliver’s standup comedy act, I Came. I Taught. I Left. It poked good-natured fun at school, at teachers, at South Africans and was riotously funny, even to a Canadian who didn’t get all the insider jokes. Next in line was the talented Rhodes Chamber Choir’s Sunday afternoon concert in the cathedral, with its exquisite acoustics. Fourth, a musical theatre called A (Sorta) Love Story, which told the falling-in-love tale of a young guy and gal. The two performers filled every action with expression and sang really well, given that the performance was at ten in the morning.  Last on my list was another drama, African Times,  an intense and fragmented portrayal of an uneasy South African political situation and the fallout of the battle against apartheid, as experienced by three sisters.

I have two special images from the markets. One is a collage of many incredibly talented African artists and craftspeople, some of whom priced their goods at far less than the value of their workmanship. The other is a snapshot of children and teens drumming, dancing and singing in the Village Green, proud to shout out their African identity. All of these gave me a glimpse into the artistic heartbeat of this country. And this continent.

Sunday, July 12 addendum:

Vili and I returned from our Assegaai Trails outing just in time to catch the finale of the National Arts Festival parade as participants passed through the entrance arch of Rhodes University. Bright colours, a brass band, dancers and critter costumes lent a festive air to a chilly mid-winter afternoon.