Festival hadn’t even started and we had to chop and change, dodge and dice. Standard Bank Presents, the tasty live teaser, showed what could be done in Cape Town and Durban, but before it hit the straps in Jozi, Comrade Cyril had his say.
Those folks on the hill, the National Arts Festival, always held a card up the sleeve, a Plan C, but that didn’t mean it didn’t mean more work for them. We applaud, we throw roses, knickers if you want them.
There is no livelihood that has been more damaged by the pandemic than the arts (call it an industry, I will bite my thumb at you). A whole ecology of creative endeavour has been devastated, both by chance and by wilful neglect and incompetence. Artists have been klapped. And yet, despite all the hardships and obstacles, artists are moving through the loss of live performance, grappling with it and finding whatever ways they can to get their hands into your chest. There is so much work on the National Arts Festival programme to get excited about. In the midst of an arts apocalypse, the heart will still beat. And as long as it beats, so do we; living our history, making it as we go, trying to reach through screens to each other.