Goat

CATS

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CATS

At the Teatro to watch a show about Cats. Cats are everywhere, fur naturalistic, fantastic make-up, the performers stayed in role the whole time. They were cats, inquisitive, sensual and alluring without meaning to. 

Andrew Lloyd Webber’s Cats is built on T. S. Eliot’s Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats, a collection of poems that already resist conventional narrative. Webber doesn’t “adapt” them into a linear story—he creates a ritual. What you’re watching is less a plot-driven musical and more a ceremonial gathering: the Jellicle Ball.

Once a year, the Jellicle cats assemble to present themselves—body, memory, instinct, desire—so that one may be chosen to ascend to the Heaviside Layer and be reborn. That’s it. No villain, no quest, no romance arc. The drama is existential.

And that’s where cats become not just a choice, but the only possible choice.

Why cats? Why not people?

Cats exist in a perfect symbolic middle-ground:

They live with humans but are never owned by us in spirit.

They are domestic but untamed.

They are sensual without apology.

They are ancient, ritualistic, observant, and indifferent to morality.

In mythology and psychology, cats are liminal creatures—they cross thresholds. Think:

Egypt: cats as divine guardians (Bastet)

Folklore: witches’ familiars

Jungian symbolism: intuition, shadow, feminine power, erotic mystery

Humans on stage are burdened with social codes. Cats are not. By making the performers cats, Webber removes:

shame

realism

everyday morality

What’s left is pure archetype expressed through the body.

The archetypes on stage

Each Jellicle cat is not a “character” in the naturalistic sense—they are aspects of being:

Grizabella – the fallen goddess / the exiled erotic self / memory and regret

Rum Tum Tugger – the trickster libido, chaos, sex appeal incarnate

Old Deuteronomy – the wise patriarch, time itself embodied

Macavity – the shadow archetype, criminal instinct

Munkustrap – the storyteller, the chorus, order and observation

They are not meant to “change.” They present themselves. This is a parade of identities asking a cosmic question: Who deserves transcendence?

They stayed in rule as cats.

That discipline is everything.

The performers are not acting “sexy humans pretending to be cats.” They are humans suppressing their humanity to allow animal instinct to dominate. The choreography demands:

constant low center of gravity

prowling awareness

elastic spines

hands that behave like paws

eyes that never stop scanning

This creates a physical language that is:

predatory

playful

curious

unapologetically sensual

Cats don’t flirt the way humans do. 

They display. Stretching. Arching. Grooming. Staring. Retreating. Approaching again.

Sex appeal emerges not because it’s advertised—but because it’s inevitable.

Cats are erotic without intention. That’s the key difference. There’s no performance of desire for an audience—there’s just embodied confidence, physical intelligence, and instinctual presence.

The performers:

take up space without apology

move as if watched but unconcerned

exist in their bodies with ease and ownership

That reads as sexy because it taps into something ancient: desire before language.

It’s closer to:

dance

ritual

courtship

animal magnetism

Not titillation. Not seduction. Vitality.

Cats doesn’t want you to “believe” in cats singing. It wants you to submit to a different logic—dream logic, myth logic, body logic.

the set is oversized (you’re inside a cat’s world)

time feels suspended

the fourth wall dissolves

eye contact with the audience is frequent and unsettling

You’re not watching animals. You’re being observed by them.

They were nimble.

They were inquisitive.

They were agile.

And yes… they were sexy.

Because Cats is not about cats.

It’s about what humans look like when they remember they are animals first 🐾

Music: Andrew Lloyd Webber

Based on “Old Possum’s Book of Practical cats by TS Eliot

Associate director and choreography: Chrissie Cartwright

Music supervisor: Peter McCarthy

Assistant Choreographer and Director: Matt Krzan

Musical director: Louis Zurnamer

Resident director: Duane Alexander

Sound designer: David Creasly

Lighting designer: Howard Eaton

Gimbie cat choreographer: Bill Deamer

Orchestations by: David Cullen and Andrew Lloyd Webber

Cast

Cindy-Ann Abrahams

King B

Phoebe Charles 

Tatum Coleman

Noa Duckitt

Cassiel Eatock-Winnik

Ryan Flynn

Micheal Fullard

Che-Jean Jupp

Dylan Janse van Rensburg 

Congratulations Duane Alexander and the whole team for a great show and a deserved standing. 

📸: SamSays 

antakalipa the philosopher

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antakalipa the philosopher

We all try, we all piqued with imperfections. Life is a subjective experience, no one can define it for us. We have to do it for ourselves. There is no blueprint for a successful life and happiness is a fleeting experience. One thing is certain though, life is suffering and consciousness a burden. We born into a world that is in different to us and we all going to die. Boredom is inescapable and persistent and God might turn out to be our greatest lie. We need him to attain a state of sanity because without him, we have nothingness. Life can’t be nothingness, it has to mean something. Science attempts to solve the how but can’t explain why, because how can consciousness explain itself? It’s an impossibility, like biting your own teeth. I think, therefore I am, good try Renee Descartes but what is this “I”, how can we be sure of it? Maybe life is a simulation, we are certainly programmed by socioeconomic factors. It’s a fact, we are a product of our environment and our ancestors laid out a path for us. Life is already defined and predetermined the moment we are born. Freewill and choice are an illusion and if it’s God’s will then why bother? We all try, in the grander scale of things, no one is right or wrong because time forgets. The best we can do is live out the present moment the best way we can. To really immerse ourselves in the experience, feel the sensations, close your eyes, take a second breath, love deeply and wholeheartedly without prejudice, enjoy nature, marvel at it’s magnificence, laugh, play, be happy, dance, sing, be all that you can be because life isn’t guaranteed.

The team at Wisdoms used to say I am a philosopher, I never thought of myself as a philosopher, but sure, I see it now. They saw me before I saw myself, knew what I was about before I even knew. I embrace my fate, antakalipa the philopher, the consciousness of culture. Funny because antakalipa doesn’t even mean anything, ties in perfectly with this post about life and the meaning of it. If God does exist then he is the undisputed king of comedy. I wonder if he has an audience. Doesn’t matter in any case, nothing matters.

Marabi

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Marabi

At the Market Theatre for the opening of “Marabi”. Piano, Kasi, Stocko, Doornfontein! A full house, everyone in full attendance. The energy palpable, everyone is just excited! It’s the first show of the year!

Marabi is a South African musical theatre classic adapted from Modikwe Dikobe’s novel The Marabi Dance and originally developed through Junction Avenue Theatre Company workshops. It’s set in the Doornfontein slumpyards, rusted corrugated sheets is the feeling and tone, 1930s – the show tells a powerful story of family, music and change.

The play opens with the Mabongo family, first-generation Black migrants who have come to Johannesburg in search of opportunity but instead face the harsh realities of urban poverty and crowded township life. The central figure, July Mabongo, carries the burden of ancestral expectations, traditional values, and the tension between holding on to the past and surviving in a fast-changing city. Mabongo’s daughter Martha falls in love with Ginger George, a charismatic marabi piano player known for his vibrant rhythms and free spirit. Their relationship challenges traditional norms and creates conflict within the family.

The story uses marabi music not just as background but as an emotional and cultural force — representing continuity with heritage and the promise of transformation. As recorded music begins to challenge live performance, tensions emerge over authenticity, survival and identity.

Onstage we see the characters struggle with love, personal dreams, and the effects of broader social changes — from economic hardship to looming war. Marabi is a story of resilience, rhythm and belonging: a theatrical tapestry where family bonds, cultural heritage, and social pressures all interplay against the backdrop of South Africa’s emerging township culture.

The cast
Josias Dos Moleele
Mduduzi Mtshali
Sello Sebotsane
Gabisile Tshabalala
Mapule Mafole
Mpho Molepo
Peter Mashigo
Alister Mbuso Dube
Katlego Moloi
Thamo Baleka Ngoma

The cast are amazing, simultaneously dancing and singing. Mapule Mafole is just remarkable, she plays the role of a child to perfection. So innocent and pure, nothing betrays her performance. She is so beautiful. Josias Dos Moleele is a shapeshifter who wills things into existence. Esscentric and colorful, he brings flavor to his character. Gabisile with that menacing look, eyebrows tuck in, present your case disposition. Sello Sebotsane plays the father, she is very disappointed with her daughter. He later enrolls to fight in the War after getting fired from work. Each of the members of the cast, work with care and diligence to bring their characters to life. There’s a lot of personality and charm to the characters.

Set Designer – Wilhelm Disbergen
Costume Designer – Lethabo Bereng
Lighting Designer – Mandla Mshali

Congratulations Arthur Molepo and the whole team for a great show and a deserved standing ovation.

📸: SamSays

Nobody Told Me

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Nobody Told Me

On the square to watch a Masterpiece “Nobody Told Me” , very early on and you are looking at a Production of the Year contender. A Poignant, reflective, wrenching and deeply compassionate play exploring life in the Warsaw Ghetto, Poland for Jewish residents under German occupation. Nazi’s the instigaters – Swastikas, German efficiency, in uniform, Poland, WWII, heil Hitler.

Nobody Told Me is a contemporary stage play written by Luc Albinski. It’s a dramatic theatrical work inspired by true family history and the experiences of a Jewish doctor in World War II Warsaw. It follows the emotional journey of Wanda, now in her 80s, and her son Luc (the playwright), as they explore long-buried family secrets about Wanda’s mother — Dr Halina Rotstein, a Jewish physician who worked in the Warsaw Ghetto’s Czyste Hospital during the Holocaust. The story shifts between present-day conversations and flashbacks to the 1930s–40s in Warsaw, showing how Halina and her circle of young doctors faced impossible moral choices while trying to care for others under Nazi oppression. Rather than simply recounting historical events, the play focuses on private emotional landscapes, memory, identity, survival, and silence — especially on how hidden histories shape later generations.

The play explores Dr. Halina’s relationship with her daughter. Halina’s relationship with her daughter is the emotional heart of Nobody Told Me. It is not a relationship built on warmth or easy intimacy, but on duty, silence, sacrifice, and deferred love—the kind of love that survives catastrophe by becoming disciplined, restrained, and often misunderstood.

Halina loves her daughter fiercely, but her love is filtered through survival. As a doctor in the Warsaw Ghetto, Halina lives in a world where sentimentality is a liability. Every day is an emergency. Every decision has consequences measured in lives lost or saved. In this context, motherhood cannot look like softness—it must look like control.

To her daughter, this can feel like emotional distance. Halina does not always explain herself. She does not narrate her fear. She does not confess her pain. Instead, she acts:

She chooses work over emotional presence.

She prioritizes survival over comfort.

She withholds information to protect her child from terror.

From the daughter’s perspective, this restraint can register as coldness. But from Halina’s perspective, love means keeping her child alive at all costs, even if that means being misunderstood forever.

This is one of the play’s cruelest truths:
Sometimes love survives only by disguising itself as severity.

The production blends intimate storytelling with expressionistic, post-Brechtian and physical theatre conventions, aiming to make the audience feel the moral weight and human resilience beneath historical facts. Themes include memory and secrecy, duty versus survival, humanism in inhuman conditions, and the inheritance of identity. Music by Jeanne Zaidel-Rudolph and choreography by Vicky Friedman contribute to its immersive atmosphere. Wonderful design and sets by Wilhelm Desbergen and Gwendi Gourley.

Cast Members

Liezl de Kock 

André Lötter 

Aimèe Mika Komorowsky 

Mamodibe Ramodibe 

Damon Berry 

Khuthadzo Ndou 

Dihan Keun 

Jade Scheepers 

Andile Mgeyi 

Ngwedi Ramphele 

They are all outstanding performers, never a moment out of character – moving, emotive, poignant, heavy, nonchalant, murderous, heil Hitler. Soviets in the mix too.

The play is described as a tribute to those who healed others while facing immense danger, and as an exploration of silence and revelation within families and history.

It asks broader questions about identity, inherited silence, moral choices under oppression, and how stories once hidden can shape understanding in the present.

Congratulations Ilina Perianova with assistant director Renos Spanoudes and the whole team for a great show and a deserved standing.

Fedka the convict

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Fedka the convict

No good scoundrel, criminal, living through other people’s labor. Victimizing the community, mugging, stealing, we need to show unity. Bring him to his knees, corner him so he doesn’t terrorize the community. Scumiest scum of them all, resides in filth, Fedka the convict. Lurks in the shadows of the night to short change you, clean you out like an empty register. A target if you are walking alone, drunk, or can’t register. Will take all your money, clothes and knife you to death, if you can’t register. Fedka the convict, a scoundrel, a slave to his impulses. Won’t woo a woman, he’d rather take by force to quench his impulses. Men not exempted, will spike his drink to quench his impulses. Scum, low life, irredeemable, rotten to the core, got released and did as before. Fedka the convict, serial stalker, observes in the distance and not a big talker. Then pops up in your face unexpectedly and you thought you were a walker. Not fast enough for a stalker, his job is to stalk her. Fedka the convict, wifebeater and drunkard, gambled away all the family’s money, then slept in the gutters until the night became sunny. His existence, sour with no honey. Fedka the convict, no backbone like a jellyfish, to get money is his biggest wish, to get it, he will do anything, offer his virgin hole without a kiss, take out someone you wouldn’t miss. Fedka the convict, when he finally got the money, went to the tarven and pissed it away. With the same company of people who always lead him astray. The cycle continues, Fedka the convict, no good scoundrel, criminal, living through other people’s labor.

Pap & Cabbage

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Pap & Cabbage

I was never chasing money, I was always chasing dreams. My soul yearned for quality stories and content. I have that, I succeeded with flying colors. When money was mixed in the equation, those above me took advantage of me and used it against me. They ruled over me like tyrants because they saw the power they had over me. So I cut the money off so I could be free. Free of tyrants who thought they could dictate my life like God. Free of restrictions and redtape of the uniform. I was rewarded with more stories and content. I fell deeper in love with performance arts. I met amazing people. I never would have achieved this had I clinged on to the little money I was getting. I would have been sluggish, I would have been a slave to my impulses. I would have been trapped, living in a cycle of fear, abiding by false narratives, pleasing people who don’t care about me and my dreams. But that’s not the case, I am hungry and relentless. I am also “dot.com” now, there’s a difference, more visibility and full functionality. I will serve millions of people around the world with quality content. I am getting the know how, I am meeting people, I am getting stronger. My game-plan is spot on, delaying gratification will give me satisfaction. Money is the end game but it alone won’t make me happy. I need quality people too and I am building a database, so I am happy with my pap and cabbage everyday, it’s an economical model and it does the job. Sure, I’d like a steak but it’s expensive and the process doesn’t call for that. It wants me to tighten up, be resourceful and pierce ahead like a spear. Pap and cabbage everyday will get me there. It will enable me to produce quality shows, it will help me serve millions of people around the world. Keep focus, pap and cabbage is the answer, never get sidetracked. Pap and cabbage will teach you about responsibility. You will get money, it’s around the corner but first pap and cabbage. You are already there, you did it, stay steady with pap and cabbage. Pap and cabbage, boil it, fry it, add some salt and be on your way. Pap and cabbage is the foundation. Pap and cabbage will keep you humble. Pap and cabbage will give you the world.

Amy Winehouse: The Diva and Her Demons

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Amy Winehouse: The Diva and Her Demons

On the Square for the Amy Winehouse: The Diva and Her Demons show, I thought it was opening night. Melidah set things right. Tonight is the preview, opening night is on Friday. Finger too quick on the trigger, Friday is too far. I’ll watch the preview tonight and come back tomorrow for the opening!

I’ve been excited about the show ever since I heard it’s coming on the square. Amy Winehouse is my favorite artist of all time! Couldn’t see her live but tonight was the closest thing to a Amy Winehouse concert. Kerry Hiles was amazing on Judy Garland’s “A star is born” – Amanda Bothma duh but she really did it this time! That just might be the best tribute show of all time! Incredible show! Kerry simultaneously narrates Amy’s life, it’s informative, intimate and insightful, she talks Amy’s early days, her parents, Blake, smoking Marijuana, crack cocaine, alcoholism, Frank, fashion sense, winning 5 Grammy awards in one night, Tony Bennett, Back to Black and her ultimate demise. Songs off Frank, Back to Black and Lioness: Hidden Treasures were performed. I lost my mind when I heard “Cherry” – I didn’t expect that! I lost total control of my body when they performed “You’re Wondering Now” and “Monkey Man”.

Other songs performed were “Me and Mr. Jones”, “Addicted”, “Valerie”, “Love is a losing game”, “Rehab”, “Tears Dry on Their Own”, “Take the Box”, “Stronger Than Me”, “Our Day Will Come”, “Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow” and the posthumously Grammy award winning “Body and Soul” with Tony Bennett.

A perfect way to start off the new year! What are you waiting for? Go get your tickets now! They are only here for 10 days!

Kerry Hiles is on Vocals and the Bass.
Roscoe Nefdt plays the guitar.
Kristo Zondagh is on drums and suitcase – you’ll understand when you see the show.

The music is crispy fresh and reimagined. Kerry is mesmerizing on the vocals while Kristo lends his voice to the backup. I loved “Valerie”. It’s so cool they performed all the music that I loved. I couldn’t stop singing and dancing! What an experience! The theatre is going to have a hard time keeping me out – my spirit is screaming encore! I love Kerry Hiles even more now – she could never do wrong in my eyes.

Thank you Theatre on the square for bringing Amy Winehouse to me. My favorite artist of all time!

Congratulations Misery Loves Company for a great show and a deserved standing ovation.

📸: SamSays

SLEG

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SLEG

I am sleg, shut the door on your face and put the key in the keyhole to deny you access, I am sleg, ya, sleg. Stand in your way to hinder progress, bin your papers so you don’t process, I am sleg, ya, sleg. Heart black as sin, kwaal nothing you have seen, the examiner with a red pen failing students with zeal. Will void and temper your seal, just to see you beg and kneel, then deny you access because you pathetic and weak, closing powers like nothing you have seen. I am sleg, ya, sleg. Kwaal on another level, turn my back cause your not on my level. I am sleg, ya, sleg. Everything here is mine, mine, mine and you ain’t getting anything. The perimeter is mine, mine, mine, you ain’t getting in. Keep you out even in your dreams, will never ride with me even if you had cool rims. Jealousy and envy off the charts, deny you access even with the right paperwork so you don’t enter these parts. I am sleg, ya, sleg. I enjoy seeing people suffer, see them squirm with pain from my burning sulphur, masochist, I love pain, especially when others suffer. Schadenfreude, a smile on my face thereafter, because I am sleg, ya, sleg. Close the door and reenforce it with steel, confiscate your stuff, they were basically a steal. I am sleg, ya, sleg. Would push you out a moving car on the highway, I don’t care, things must happen my way. I don’t care if your family or friend, things must happen my way, or I cut you off like a useless limb so you don’t get in my way. Cause I am sleg and competition is not my way. I am sleg, ya sleg. I don’t care what you think of me. Will leave you hungry with no food, leave you stranded like you’re no good. Cause, I am sleg, ya, sleg. Closing powers like nothing you have seen before.

Spiteful bitch

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Spiteful bitch

Spiteful bitch you made me stronger. I am laughing because you thought my back was against the wall but I couldn’t be more stronger. Should have believed you when you spewed hate against me but I was younger, vulnerable, confused, looking for your validation, when your heart was on vacation. You didn’t care, left me abandoned like a building occupied by drug addicts. Maybe I was an addict, craving for your love, that was never given. Instead you played the victim, when you are the one who opened your legs for that big dick. Should have wore a condom and avoided the leak from that big prick. What dreams? Don’t make me sick. Spiteful bitch you made me stronger, overplayed your hand, using the same maneuver, you became predictable, thought you were my God, how predictable. Searching for my weaknesses with a microscope so you can use them against me, weaponizing food to get at me. The presence of mind to know what works on you like Cain when he killed Able to spite God. Will never forget the schadenfreude on your face when I lost weight, it was your doing, you caused my fate. Not anymore it ain’t, will never give you that power because you are insane. Spiteful bitch you made me stronger, because of you I stand stronger. Will never let anyone play me like a fiddle, picking sides, nah, I’d rather stay in the middle. Acting big when you really are just little. Petty, prideful, egotistical, pointing fingers and sitting on the stands but never getting physical. You are right and everybody is wrong, how’s that for nonsensical? Control freak, power hungry, always has to be the one who speaks. Spiteful bitch, I believe you, you are clearly a cunt. Staying in role, you are even spiteful as a aunt. Hateful demeanor, stirring trouble, using people as pawns for your personal amusement. Everything is just a game to you isn’t it? Some sort of entertainment. Mine, mine, mine, it’s a sign, sign, sign of your immaturity and spiteful nature. Take it all, you spiteful bitch! We done! Spiteful bitch, you made me stronger.

scum

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Scum

Scum, scoundrel, scumbag, piece of shit. Ya, didn’t you know? Now you know, saved you a lifetime. Are you happy with my admission? Did you accomplish your mission? I live with mongrels, drunks and wifebeaters. Black and blue if she overextended, will take you for all you have if you are overextended. Scum, scoundrel, scumbag, piece of shit, now you know, use it against me. I don’t care, wasting my time seeing myself in people who don’t care about me. Claiming to be in my interests but wanting to control me. Using me to further their gains, to supply their inflated ego, what am I helium? Let’s pop that ego. Spiteful pride, weaponizing even food, must be good for your ego. The thing about turning Babyface is that you have to break a few egos. Take that off, mine, mine, mine, endowed with modesty I see, paragon or virtue operating above your ego, I see. An angel blessed with the gift of purity I see. Tomorrow is not granted. You think I won’t push the button, yet you pushed the button, congratulations, your request has been granted. See the beast you have unleashed cause you a stuntman, you take chances, probabilities against you and yet you still taking chances. Sit down, be humble, you don’t know anything. Even if you did, it has nothing to do with me. I am living my life too, what’s your issues got to do with me? Boundaries, stop nonsense, ga le mela le nyatso! Scum, scoundrel, scumbag, piece of shit, ya, now you know. Don’t expect much from me. Keep your distance unless you want to be contaminated by filth. If that’s the way you want to play it, then so be it, I’ll raise you. Pointing fingers gives you false power. Thinking you’re a God but you don’t tower. Just like me, scum, come lower.

Scum, scoundrel, scumbag, piece of shit. Ya, didn’t you know? Now you know, saved you a lifetime.