Los Angeles Times
November 19, 2000
FREED BY THE STEPS
FORGED IN PAIN
By Elaine Dutka
A south African troupes takes a 19th Century dance created
by shackled miners from the streets to stages around the
world.
Vincent Ncabashe first learned gumboot dancing 2 decades
ago as a 10 year-old at the Thabisong Youth Club in Soweto,
South Africa. The working-class art form, which originated
in the country’s gold mines during the 19th century
was largely looked down upon, he says.
Today, Ncabashe and five of his youth club friends are starring
in “Gumboots” a song and dance extravaganza that
has played in cities around the world and opens Wednesday
at the Wiltshire Theatre. It’s directed by Zenzi Mbuli,
who shaped the show in the early 1990s and took it on the
road. Two years ago, “Gumboots” caught the attention
of “Tap Dogs” producer Wayne Harrison, whose
Back Row productions along with other producers gave the
show a $1.2 million infusion and professional production
values.
Slapping, stomping, chanting and whistling the nine singer-dancers
high-kick, jump and coil-snake like together- a burst of
perpetual motion. The bare-chested cast is outfitted in traditional
miner garb: bandannas, baggy pants and knee-high rubber wellington
boots.
Though joy is the predominant note, there’s an ode
to Nelson Mandela and a song about dying miners, alongside
the tongue-in-cheek “I’m too Sexy for my Boots”.
In the course of the 90 minute show, the performers erect
a mine shaft on an elaborate set created by Nigel Triffitt,
the designer-director of “Tap Dogs”.
“The Story of these dancers parallels the story of the miners
the century before” says Harrison, 47. Two tales of
people overcoming very stiff odds, Zenzi can show you the
bullet hole in his leg where he was shot in the early days
of the Soweto riots. “It does ‘Gumboots’ a
disservice to call it part of the ‘Stomp’, ‘Tap
Dogs’ percussive genre,” he adds. “It’s
very specific to the political and social experience of these
men”.
Gumboots dancing originated in the late 1800s. when the white
South African government enforced separation of the races
to ensure a cheap supply of labour. Black workers were shackled
in almost total darkness and forbidden to talk.
Refusing to be silenced, they beat out rhythms using their
ankle chains and the boots they wore to protect them from
the polluted water that flooded the mines. A new percussive
language emerged – a Morse code of sorts. To accompany
it, the miners developed the dance steps to amuse themselves
during their limited “free time”.
“You use you whole body as an instrument,” explains
Ncabashe, lead guitarist and front man for the group. “We’d
compete in local festivals and come out number one every
time. Our dream was to perform in a theatre rather than at
flea markets and shopping malls, Zenzi was the guy that made
that happen.”
Ncabashe, Thami Nkwanyana, Nicholas Nene, Themba Short, Sipho
Ndella and Samuel “K,K” Nene first started performing
in 1985 under the name Rishile Poets and, later the Rishile
Traditional Dancers. Serving up a mix of poetry, drama, song
and tribal dancing, they had no sound system, no set, no
lighting.
In 1990 Mbuli stumbled on the troupe, which was performing
on the street outside the Johannesburg’s Market Theatre,
where Mbuli was involved in creating community productions.
Focus solely on gumboot, he counseled the group. Call yourselves
the Gumboots Dancers of Soweto. He had seen the worldwide
popularity enjoyed by South Africa’s Lady-smith Black
Mambaza, featured in Paul Simon’s 1986 “Graceland” album,
and bet that gumboots dancing would be next.
“Their talent was obvious-all they needed was some information,” recalls
Mbuli 40, a former drummer and dancer.
Mbuli polished the act and lined up some international engagements.
In 1993, the group was invited to attend a festival in
Belgium-an outing so successful that they were invited
back two more
times, During the next few years, the cast also travelled
to The Hong Kong Festival of the Arts and toured Australia
for 14 weeks. None of the dancers, Mbuli says, had been
out of South Africa before.
“Growing up in apartheid, none of them knew much about whites,” he
says. “The only contact they’d had was working
for them as a boy or girl but – not a friend. Being
shoulder to shoulder with whites required a period of adjustment.
In the end, they discovered they were human beings, not ‘superior
people’”.
A breakthrough came in 1997 when Harrison, then director
and executive producer of Sydney Theatre Company, saw the
dancers perform in Australia. He was captivated, he says
by the charisma of the performers, the politics of gumboot
dancing, and by the catchiness of the show’s original
songs.
“These men are innovators in the way they treat a fairly common
place art form in South Africa,” Harrison says. “What
Michael Flatley did for Irish dancing, they do to gumboot-turning
the dance form on its ear. I’d been commuting to
South Africa for 7 years and had never seen gumboot performed
with
contemporary music. ‘Gumboots’ is an embrace
of the past…and forging of the future.”
Harrison a former tap dancer met with Mbuli and offered
to provide the resources to help him implement his vision.
Three
back up singers and a trio of musicians were added to lighten
the performers load. And the show was renamed “Gumboots”.
“Now we have microphones.” Ncabashe says. “Before
we had to yell. And until those singers and musicians came
in we were doing it all.”
“Gumboots” premiered to rave reviews at Standard Bank
National Arts Festival in Grahamstone, South Africa before
heading to the Edinburgh Festival in August 1999. “There’s
always that hold-your-breath moment when you wait to see
whether a show can speak out-side it’s original culture.” Harrison
says.
In London, weeks three and four of the month long run were
sold out. Last July, Mbuli and Harrison had to view that
show from back-stage as there were no tickets to be had.
Watching these performers grow and flourish in a post-apartheid
South Africa has been gratifying says Harrison. Mbuli now
owns his own home in a formerly all-white suburb of Johannesburg.
Others have bought cars, sent money home and taken carte
of ailing relatives. With their first “Gumboots” pay
check, the Nale brothers purchased headstones for their grandparents – and
invited Harrison and Triffitt to the unveiling.
For Mbuli “Gumboots” is a feather in the cap
of Future Artists Empowerment, an organisation he and Tale
Motsepe, an associate producer at the Market Theatre, formed
in the mid-1990s to expose home-grown talent to the rest
of the world.
“These performers managed to get out of Soweto.” Harrison
says. This is what we fought for-the theatre of results.
The challenge is figuring out what to do on stage now that
we don’t have the regime to react against. In ‘Gumboots’ our
answer is: entertain.”
A “Gumboots” CD has been released by BMG Classics
and two films are in the offing. The first is a multi-camera
record of the show in London for home video distribution,
and the other, a documentary of gumboot dancing and the
lives of the performers, is scheduled to air Dec 10 on
KCET.
Mbuli, for his part isn’t resting on his laurels. He’s
initiated another musical, “Siyavuma” (we agree
or blessing) back home in South Africa. A tale of a traditional
healer who teaches people South African rhythms, it has drawn
positive reviews from critics. And if all things go well
on the “Gumboots” American tour-scheduled to
also play Boston, New York, Miami and Detroit – he’d
like to keep a permanent troupe in the U.S. and send a
second to Europe.
The success of “Gumboots” has had ripples at
home popularising and elevating the art form. “May
be you have to leave home to make them appreciate it” Ncabashe
says. “Now the younger generation is all doing the
dance”
Ironically, the show’s expanded cast and stepped-up
production values makes a South African run prohibitively
Given the depressed economy and the weakness of the rand,
says Mbuli,, few can afford to buy tickets.
“Maybe we cab take the show back in a more modest form” he
says. “Productions like these can help our people
complete a long journey because we’re still fighting
to be free-especially in our minds.
“A ‘Gumboots’ demonstrates that other people appreciate
our culture and gives young people a sense of possibility,” he
adds. “It’s not only a song-and-dance show
but an example of how far we can go.”
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