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Some problems of a playwright from South Africa - Athol Fugard Issue - Transcript
Twentieth Century Literature, Winter, 1993
Are you still working with Zakes Mokae?
Oh, yes. He called me from Los Angeles a few days ago and left a message on my machine. Zakes is very much part of my life. I've just spoken of celebrating, and your question gives me a chance to share with you one of the greatest celebrations I've ever had. Some twenty-nine years ago, after an apprenticeship, I found my voice and realized what sort of theatre I wanted to do with a play called The Blood Knot. It involves two characters, two brothers, one light-skinned, one dark-skinned. Nobody wanted to do that play except me and an actor called Zakes Mokae. Neither of us had much theatre experience, but we sorted out the traffic, we learned the lines, we got together a few props, and we did that play in an attic space in downtown Johannesburg. That was the start of it for Zakes and myself. And I had this extraordinary experience, three or four years ago, of being on a Broadway stage: the same play, the same Zakes Mokae. In a business like theatre, which is not known for the longevity of its relationships, the amount of love that prevails among its practitioners, that really was something. But then again, you see, so typical of South Africa and its capacity to serve up paradoxes. Yes, Zakes Mokae is and will always be a part of my life.
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Have you found the same creative spark that you find in writing plays either in acting or in writing novels?
No. No. I only wrote one novel, and that was way back. In fact, I can't believe I wrote it, but they say I did. Apart from two personal memoirs, which would involve writing in prose, that I would want to deal with at some point in my life, I will never attempt fiction again. I never learned how to use that craft. I know how to handle the tools that go with the craft of playwriting. Acting, directing, those are the two other significant identities I have outside of playwriting. You could take my acting away from me now, and I would lose a certain opportunity. I've enjoyed it. I'm something of a performer, and I enjoy going onto a stage. I think I take acting very seriously; but it could be taken away from me and my life wouldn't really suffer. I'd come to terms with that fairly quickly. To a certain extent I would say the same even about directing. I would miss enormously the camaraderie of the theatre, of the rehearsal room. I would miss enormously the challenge and the experience of realizing a virginal text for the first time. That's an unbelievable moment, when you sit in the theatre and you watch that first audience with your words for the first time. I'd survive even if you took that away from me. My essential identity is that of playwriting. No, I don't experience the same spark. I couldn't stand here and talk to you as an actor and as a director in the way I have tried to talk to you as a playwright.
What has been the official state response to your growing international reputation as a playwright?
Their reaction has been hands off. I've had the inevitable problems with the plays, like the censoring of plays, the closing of performances, and that sort of thing. The extent of the harassment I myself have had to endure was that they took away my passport at one period and wouldn't allow me to leave the country unless I decided to do so on a one-way ticket. They wanted to force me into exile, I think. That was their way of coping with dissident elements in the society. Oh, I've had police searches in the middle of the night, my phone is tapped, mail has been interfered with, that sort of thing. But I've had friends who have landed up on Robben Island and lost years of their life. And then, in response to your question, as my reputation grew overseas they realized it would be wiser to leave me alone, even though I was an irritant, because the adverse publicity that would come from it would outweigh any benefits to them. I think their sense of me is that, even though he makes a lot of noise, he's one of those dogs that bark but don't bite.
