In a sharp and shiny parallel universe, there is a coven of Namibian arts critics who have not seen fit to roll their eyes right out of their heads.
Instead, they traverse art exhibitions without the clear and incessant danger of wildlife photography and cardboard prints. They watch plays and films free of awkward American accents imbued with this marvelous yet mythical creature called engagement.
They tap their toes at music concerts which don’t feature the exact same songs sung by the exact same consortium of sporadically incensed but mostly inebriated artists.
And the luckiest among them forego the formulaic offerings of Spoken Word, Song Night and Free Your Mind altogether because they know you can only sit through the same stars standing on the same stage a finite number of times before you find yourself at Puma service station desperately seeking razor blades.
Here in the grand old Milky Way galaxy, however, the struggle continues.
And we have wish lists.
Dreams that would come true in the best of all possible worlds but seem as likely as foreign contractors building a N$700 million parliament building in a country ravaged by unemployment and economic inequality. Wait, that’s probably happening…so, you know, never mind.
My 2014 Wish list
Playshis Presents… Playshis
If you’ve ever stood next to Playshis the Poet, you know that some girl somewhere is cursing you for blocking the intensity of her rape eye. Held aloft as one of Namibia’s imminent Spoken Wordsmiths, it baffles that Playshis has not stepped beyond the bounds of the one shot, one theme monthly Spoken Word show and presented a show of his own. Blessed with industry as well as audience support and whatever it means to be a celebrity in Windhoek, Playshis can certainly up his game, dig deeper and thrill his fans with a large scale poetic offering the likes of which no one has ever seen. We’re waiting, Ryno. Some of us with Rohypnol.
Freddie Philander cheats on Athol Fugard
Caustic playwright and theatre veteran, Freddie Philander has a bit of a Marty Scorsese/Leo DiCaprio thing going on with Athol Fugard. Except it is nothing like that. Year after year, play after play, Philander presents Fugard or something like Fugard and this year it would be nice to see him cast his incisive eye over contempary Namibia and work with someone born after the moon landing. (Enter Blessing Mbonambi.) Certainly, frank and sporadically formidable with the kind of social and political perception that could cut just as incisively into the current scourge of corruption and Kandeshis as it does apartheid South Africa, the question is simply this: Hands up everyone who would like to see Freddie join us here in the not so new millennium?
Black Vulcanite in Living Colour
Black Vulcanite is the kind of group that you hear is very good, you listen to their music so you agree that they are very good but you never get to see them perform which isn’t very good. With a much anticipated concert cancelled last year to the ire of their rabid, socially conscious fans who will straight up spit on you if you admit that you haven’t heard of them, Black Vulcanite certainly owe us an appearance. Unless they’re cultivating a Gorillaz, MF Doom, Daft Punk type mystique. And in that case… carry on.
4. Katutura Premieres
Never in the history of hype has a local film been so lauded for sending a whole bunch of press releases. We know they’re going to make it, we know who’s in it, we’ve heard it was a musical, then it wasn’t, we know they were looking for funding, we’ve been fed a calendar of starting dates and sitting here right now, I’m pretty much waiting to hear whether craft services will be serving peanut butter sandwiches. Florian and company, you are fabulous but next email? Invitation to the premiere.
An /Ae //Gams Festival to be Proud Of
Oh, the embarrassment that is //Ae Gams Arts and Cultural Festival. Little more than a glorified craft market consisting of a handful of stalls replete with some prosaic nightly entertainment, the festival does sweet nothing to impart any history or the present reality of Namibian visual art, music, dance, drama, heritage or traditions. Recipe for improvement? Look up the words art and culture, dig deep into your concept developer’s cranium for their teaspoon of creativity and sprinkle it liberally.
The NAMAs: A No Blunder Zone
The Namibian Annual Music Awards is without a doubt the arts event that deserves top honours for incompetence. From its blank screens to its incessant insert of ‘Ebony and Ivory’ played on loop over an NBC preview of ‘Guess Who’ (2005) – someone somewhere is not a genius – last year’s NAMAs is an awkward urban legend that resists rehashing. The good news? When an event sucks so spectacularly, the only way out is up. So… there’s that.
More from Mercedez
Having made a name for herself as a socialite and Song Night’s voluble host, Mercedez von Cloete also happens to be the most visible and vocal transgendered individual in the country. That’s not to say a transgendered life is typically glamourous rather than fraught with intolerance, verbal and physical abuse as well as a whole lot of hot wax strips. My wish for Mercedez? The truth about feeling like you were born the wrong sex and some insight into Namibia’s transgender tolerance. The arena: ‘Tupopyeni’ with Kirsty Watermeyer? Sparkle.
Art Out on the Street
The worst thing about art in Namibia is that everyone thinks it needs to be hung on walls or be in buildings. Who told you that? And where can we find them to beat them with a big stick? This year everyone in their respective arts industry should think about how best to present their talents, gatherings and events. Whether it’s an installation in Town Square, an impromptu performance in Zoo Park ala First Rain Dance Theatre or somewhere, ANYWHERE that is not the Warehouse Theatre, the NAGN or the FNCC. The challenge is to get creative.
Because that’s kind of your thing.
Something from Senga
People Actually Paying The Artists
Shishani named and shamed them late last year and everyone who is anyone has some hungry horror story in which they are left pissed off and poverty stricken after providing entertainment for people rolling around in Benzes. This year artists need to pour some fuel on the fire. Perhaps a page. An artist’s blacklist on Facebook and Twitter that gives feedback on gigs, treatment, promises and payment so that fellow artists know who to work for.
And who to encourage to kick rocks.
