Sugarwater: A bit too sweet

By Denzel Nyathi

Equal parts water and equal parts sugar. For health benefits, drink before exercise. To make a homemade syrup for a cocktail or baking treats, bring to an easy simmer over the stove. For richer desserts, welcome heaped spoons of sugar into your water. Regardless of its intended use, sugar water brings a sweetness to the body’s greatest need.

In Winslow Schalkwyk’s SUGARWATER, the needs of the body, mind and soul are all the topic of exploration. Described as a “multimedia spoken word experience”, the poet and director invites the audience into a dream world, Dreamy, in that it seems disconnected from the real world as we know it.

The space is vast and occupied only by Schalkwyk. He appears and reappears in his various monochromatic outfits in new spaces from the dark vastness. It is nightmarish too, in all its darkness and the occasional sea blue lights that wash over the performer. It’s familiar, but also not. The scenes are spliced in gradual fade-ins and fade-outs, so that by the time the 10-minute experience ends, you feel as though you’ve woken up, rather unsettled by what has been awash in your subconscious, wondering if you’ll return there if you go back to sleep, or if you would want to.

After confronting us with the opening poem, Like Men Do, the tone is set with Dreams, with the line “pain is so self indulgent, but oh we love it so”, introducing the theme of need.

As the words bounce off the black walls and close-ups of Schalkwyk’s profile bring us back to his expression, we’re left wondering what necessitates pain as part of the human experience.

Solitutude, which strikes me as the pinnacle of the show, introduces the idea of loneliness and yearning. The poem speaks to all of us who who have felt disconnected and separated from our loved ones for what is now the greater part of 2020. The truth of it, and the intimacy, keeps us invested in the experience created by the artist, despite over dramatisation in parts.

If the lighter-hearted moments feel like they’re forcing the climax of a drama film, you can only imagine what Holy was like. The poem is beautifully haunting, delving into the tensions of growing up in religions circles as a queer individual. The truth of this experience alone gives the old heart strings a good pull. The visuals are daring, creating scenes of visual tension and alluding to the importance of presentation in religion (“While I reject everything I am, just so I can be seen as a man.”).

But the delivery of this poem and others – most notably Tall Order – cheapens the experience. Being dramatic is not a problem in itself, but if you’re going to go there, make sure you hit all the right notes. Unfortunately, it at time reminded you of the jokes people made about poetry in high school English class, even though the poems were good, like those in SUGARWATWER. I can only assume the dramatics were an attempt to give more punch to the performance.

A little bit of cringing aside, by the time the musical soundscape of Reign ties everything together, there’s a sense of gratitude. It’s a moment where you realize someone has done what we all turn to art for: offered a part of themselves which, hopefully, speaks to a part of ourselves. SUGARWATER settles in your body. A part of you is left energized.

Find SUGARWATER on vNAF programme here. Tickets cost just R25.

Production Credits

Concept, Director & Producer: Winslow Schalkwyk

Musicians: Garth Erasmus and Monthati Masebe