Sarah Archive

Black Privilege: A gilded cage?

Who doesn’t want to be famous? Not Kardashian famous. Yuck. But famed, or infamous even, a game-changer, a reference point, noted in the history books… a known name. Aspirations. Dreams. And why not? Why not want recognition, validation, a little assurance that one’s being here on earth is worthwhile? Enter the Entertainment Industry. You gotta

TrueLies: Ask me no questions…

What makes you mad? Not angry, but crazy? Or are the two interlinked? TrueLies raises this question in a story where a young man, who is cross about a lot of things – like, all the things political, religious, social – is sent for psychiatric evaluation. His fury is labelled insanity. Something is absurd here,

Tangible Energy: Elusive and Aloof

Energy. That which creates us. Makes us. Connects us. Energy is chemistry. Energy is power. So much potential… But perhaps the switch didn’t entirely flick on for me, in Tangible Energy? I’m always open to the possibility that the point flashed past me, and I’ll happily receive another audience member’s enlightened insight. But if the

Down to the Marrow: Introspection on identity

Down to the Marrow is a work in two parts. The first is “Ukubona Ngokwami”, a duet choreographed and performed by Jabu Siphika and Zinhle Nzama, and the second, “Ndlelanhle” is a quintet performed by the newest generation of Flatfoot Dance Company’s professional dancers, choreographed by Sifiso Khumalo. Together these works take an intimate inward

Phuma-Langa: Stark and Dark

In a black box theatre with bared walls and simple lighting, six eerie figures stand, dressed in ridiculous outfits – swimming caps, orange water wings, kreepy krauly pipes wound round their waists, and knee-length stripy socks in white tennis shoes. In trying to interpret this weird attire, I look to choreographer Mamela Nyamza’s body of

Amaqhawe: All the bells and whistles; little form

Unlike the rest of the whooping audience, I was unmoved by Amaqhawe. People who have read my writing can gather I’m a ‘give-an-artist-the-benefit-of the-doubt’ kind of reviewer/critic (whatever you like to call us people). But, disappointingly, the negatives outweigh the positives in Amaqhawe and there’s no way to spin it otherwise. The content is important,