MOEDERTAAL. Written and directed by Nico Scheepers with Sandra Prinsloo. The Studio, Fugard Theatre.
TRACEY SAUNDERS reviews
As Sandra Prinsloo fills her pockets with stones, emulating Virginia Woolf, she begins her journey at the end. Her footprints in the sand echo the words of her literary heroine in To the Lighthouse, “When life sank down for a moment, the range of experience seemed limitless… Beneath it is all dark, it is all spreading, it is unfathomably deep; but now and again we rise to the surface and that is what you see us by. Her horizon seemed to her limitless.”
For an all too short hour Prinsloo as Nellie, an elderly Afrikaans woman, tugs you in to unfathomable depths with an intensity matched by the generous ease with which she unveils that limitless horizon of a life well lived. Scheepers has sketched ultra-fine vignettes of an extraordinarily, ordinary life. It is in the small commonplace moments where our humanity collides, where you recognise your sister, your uncle, your mother, your son, your self. No grand gestures are necessary here as each memory is delicately unwrapped with an attention to detail that has become a hallmark of Scheepers’ writing.
Childhood seen through a haze of Mampoer and smoke
Having first watched the debut performance in the large Gimsaal at the KKNK earlier this year, I appreciated the intimacy which The Studio brings to the performance which one missed on that cavernous stage. Each sob that catches, each infectious laugh is perfectly distilled and given the intensity of Prinsloo’s performance provides one of those theatrical experiences of which memories are made. Nellie’s reminiscences of her childhood on a farm, seen through a haze of Mampoer and smoke, shared with puppies and a suicidal uncle are shared with a candid clarity that makes each encounter visceral.
In Oscar and The Pink Tannie Prinsloo navigated with ease between characters of ages spanning several decades. She repeats this feat as deftly in this exquisite performance as she laughs with the delight of her younger self and emulates the pitch of a confused little boy with perfection. Her retinue of solo performances, including that of Die Naaimasjien which director and writer, Hennie van Greunen described as one of the finest debut scripts he has ever encountered, allow you the unadulterated joy of watching her take full command of the stage and an enthralled audience. Even at the moment when you swear you won’t succumb to the sentimentality, you find yourself unwittingly wiping a tear. Prinsloo’s skill is in navigating every nuance of human emotion and taking you along every step of the way. As a young girl, a student, a lover, a wife, a mother, each age ebbs and flows as effortlessly as the tide, a constant reminder of the relentless course of life and death.
Elegy of love and loss
Scheepers brings a whimsical quality to the set, a mise en scène in hues of blue, reminiscent of the hauntingly moving, Die maan val bewusteloos which he wrote and directed. Two chairs, a few large stones, handfuls of pebbles, sand and a tragic pair of ordinary takkies that take on a life of their own at some stage. The soundscape of crashing waves, crackling flames and delicate piano chords create subtle backdrops on the mostly bare stage. As with the highly successful Hemelruim and Die Reuk van Appels those not fluent in Afrikaans are not deprived of the privilege of watching. While the poetic quality of the script does not always match the English equivalent, the musicality of Prinsloo’s characteristic voice is sufficient to convey any emotional nuances that are lost in translation.
Moedertaal, both the language of motherhood and one’s language from birth, has no vocabulary sufficient unto grief. Finding words that adequately translate loss is nigh impossible. Few accomplish it as eloquently as David Whyte in his poem the Well of Grief: “Those who will not slip beneath/ the still surface on the well of grief,/turning down through its black water/ to the place we cannot breathe,/will never know the source from which we drink,/ the secret water, cold and clear.” Scheepers has matched that eloquence in Moedertaal, an elegy of love and loss, an exploration of that bone marrow grief that never ever eases, a memorial to what and who we have lost, how deeply we loved. Prinsloo will remind you of how best to do both with a tenderness and clarity that will ease one and make you eternally grateful for the other.
What: Moedertaal
Where and when: The Fugard Studio Theatre until 2 December 2017. Matinee performances on Saturday (Afrikaans with English surtitles)
Book: Computicket
WS
