Foto van Athol Fugard en sy hond, Jakkals: Paula Fourie
Elkarien Fourie het prominente rolspelers in die teater genader om verjaardagwense aan Athol Fugard te stuur. Lees gelukwensinge deur John Kani, Breyten Breytenbach, Marius Weyers, Anna-Mart van der Merwe, David Kramer, Tshamano Sebe, Hermann Giliomee, Janet Suzman, Ben Kingsley, Sandra Prinsloo en Mannie Manin.
Van Breyten Breytenbach
Liewe, hooggeagte meester Athol
Dis ’n onbegonne taak om jou ook maar naastenby te wil eer in die naloop van ’n lewe wat die bloei van synkunde vergestalt – alpad van ’n Middelburg via ’n Mekka na die Middelwêreld. (En jy is nou vry genoeg om jou nie aan ’n bogsnuiter te hoef te steur nie.) Hierdie moet egter aangeteken staan: die mate waartoe jy die lewende voorbeeld van ’n onverskrokke skeppende mens is, en dit al so lank vir so baie van ons beliggaam. Iemand wat die nag in die oë kyk en soms nog lag kry. ’n Aardling wie se lewenswerk en werkerslewe deurstraal word van wérklike deernis met die planeet en al haar lewensuitinge so besoedel en uitgebuit en geplunder en opgefok deur ons mensgoed. Veral omdat jou hele wese getrou gebly het aan die lot en die drome van die hefnots terwyl jy jou so maklik sou kon verskans agter die maskers van die hefs.
Beteken dit dan dat jy spreekwoordelik met jou skryfstok die waters kan klief, so soos jy die realiteite van die teater oopgeklop het, sodat ons droogvoets sonder die leiding van enige Party uit Moerland mag loop na die beloofde Mzansi van bevryding waar ons na mekaar en die Omheen sal omsien asof ons lewens daarvan afhang? Helaas, ons is té mens. En om robbies te wees en mekaar om die lewe te bring, verontskuldig ons onsself, is ’n oorlewingsvereiste ...
Ons weet jy wil nie gesien word as profeet nie, dat jy sê jou tong is partykeer te swaar in die mond selfs al het jy nie gedrink nie, dat dit nie help om ’n volk wat die eie menswaardigheid verloeder en verraai deur die vervarking van ons moedertale voor stok te wil kry nie …
Maar dit wéét ons: Jy met jou bitterlaggie en jou woordseerkeel het ’n rigtinggewer in die hartgrond van ons onvervulde drome staangemaak, en dit is elkeen van ons se eksistensiële verantwoordelikheid en voorreg om die veelkleurige vlag van bevryding wat ’n vervulling is, daaraan te laat wapper. Ook al is die hart ’n ashoop.
Dankie daarvoor, Oubaas.
Dankie vir jou nederigheid.
Dankie vir jou vakmanskap.
Dankie vir jou lojaliteit wat ’n beginselvastheid is.
Dankie vir jou helder kyk.
Dankie vir jou mensegeduld en jou heilige ongeduld.
Dankie vir jou aanhou wat nog altyd ’n sáámdoen was.
Dankie vir wat jy vir ons mengelmensdom daarstel as méns!
Dankie.
***
From David Kramer
In 1973 while studying at Leeds University I heard that a play from The Space theatre in Cape Town was to be presented in Manchester. Renaye and I found our way to Manchester and bought tickets for The Island by John Kani, Winston Ntshona and Athol Fugard. Watching the actors perform the play was a harrowing and visceral experience. This was theatre like we had never seen before. We wanted more, so when we heard they’d be performing Sizwe Bansi is dead at The Royal Court we jumped on a train to London.
At that time I’d begun writing my songs which took their inspiration from my teenage years growing up in South Africa. I was experimenting with using my own voice rather than affecting a pseudo-American accent as was the norm back then. It was a difficult choice, as identifying yourself as a white South African could attract the wrong kind of attention overseas.
But that afternoon, after buying tickets for the play, as Renaye and I stood in the foyer of the Royal Court, we heard a strong Eastern Cape accent coming from across the room. We turned and saw it was Athol, being interviewed by a journalist, I presume. There was no hiding his South African origins. I was impressed by how comfortable and confident he was with himself. Hearing Athol in that moment inspired me to continue to find my own voice and singing style in my songs.
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From Mannie Manim
Athol Fugard has been South Africa’s leading playwright for the past 50 years or more. He is internationally renowned as a theatre maker and writer.
Working with him has been one of the greatest blessings in my life. He has the gift of making each person he encounters feel heard and special.
His scripts have all the notes a lighting designer needs. In the rehearsal room he is wonderfully warm and engaging, challenging his actors and designers to scale new heights each day. Giving them challenge after challenge. In the theatre he is totally focused and observes each detail of the work.
I am so grateful for the deep love and friendship we share. How wonderful that he celebrates his 90th year this year.
Congratulations OUBAAS!
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From Ben Kingsley
Firstly, let me add my congratulations to Athol on the occasion of his 90th birthday.
Janet Suzman first introduced Athol into my life when we performed his Hello and goodbye together. Subsequently I had the great good fortune to work with Athol on three more occasions over the coming years: Statements after an arrest under the Immorality Act, Dimetos and together in Gandhi, in which he portrayed General Smuts. He remains one of the most profound guiding voices of my career.
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From Janet Suzman
Although I first fell in love with Shakespeare when I was still at school, later in life I fell in love with Fugard. I can’t precisely equate the two, since anyone can see how very different they are as writers, not only in time, but in style and storytelling and characters. But for an actor there is a very strong emotional connection that joins them over the centuries, and that is a loud and clear shout-out: “You can believe this!” They write truthfully – Shakespeare with many words, Fugard with fewer. Your actor’s truth Geiger counter goes off the graph.
I am glad I never met Shakespeare, for fear his stunning genius might have been a little overclouded by halitosis (the Elizabethans ate too many sweetmeats for their own dental good) or a smelly doublet, and anyway I would never have known what to say to him. I have never known what to say to Athol either and have always been over-awed by the aura he carries within him; like he can see through you. I have pretended to be relaxed in his company, though I never was. But I have watched the mischief in his eyes, and his bad-boy grin, and been much enchanted.
And as with William Shakespeare's I have had my best acting times with his plays, the first being Hello and goodbye, which I did with young Ben Kingsley at the King’s Head Theatre in Islington and which was good enough to transfer to the West End. And then, later, I did Athol’s possibly greatest play, Boesman and Lena, in a sand pit, and my Boesman and I suffered with sand fleas, but it was worth every itch. More recently I directed A lesson from aloes in London and that was an absorbing experience, to be able to shape this wonderful cactus of a play.
I have watched Athol’s work being performed by marvellous actors – The Island staying forever in my mind as probably the 20th century's most important play about the ascendant human spirit, disguised by humour, black humour. I have marvelled at Athol’s special relationship with his and my friend John Kani and his friend, the late Winston Ntshona. And maybe most of all with the legendary Barney Simon of the once great Market Theatre who has fashioned us all in his likeness in some weird way. And not least, I still live in the house that his muse Yvonne Bryceland once lived in when she was in London. Traces, you see, traces.
Happy ninetieth to the life force that is Athol Fugard, alive and kicking in Stellenbosch today! To the unquestioned integrity that strides so strongly through the pages of his writing and which is so bloody rare, I drink a toast: Viva Athol!
***
Foto van Paula Fourie en Athol Fugard: Paula Fourie
Van Herman Giliomee
Ek sien Athol as die skeppende kunstenaar en skrywer wat die beste die lief en die leed van mense in hierdie besonderse land verwoord en in dramas omskep. Hierdeur het hy ons gevoel van verbondenheid met mekaar en ons verknogtheid aan die land ontsaglik verryk. Soos geen ander skrywer of skeppende kunstenaar nie behoort hy aan al die gemeenskappe en aan die hele land.
Maar dit gaan ook verder. Ek was in 2015 so gelukkig om saam met my oudste dogter, Francine, sy gas te wees by die openingsaand van die opvoering in New York van sy drama The painted rocks at Revolver Creek. Na die opvoering het ons saam met die akteurs in ’n restaurant gaan feesvier. Wat my opgeval het, is hoe Athol deur al die spelers op die hande gedra word. Hulle het hom omarm net soos ons as Suid-Afrikaners hom omarm omdat hy so volstrek eerlik met ons is en ons uitbeeld soos wat ons is.
Athol het hierdie ereplek verwerf nie omdat hy enige gemeenskap in Suid-Afrika loof of verheerlik nie. Die teendeel is waar. Ek kan aan min boeke of toneelstukke dink wat beter die harteloosheid en gemeenheid van die politieke bestel en van veral die dominante groep in die samelewing oopvlek. Maar sy dramas gaan veral oor mense en medemenslikheid – of die afwesigheid daarvan. Athol het sy plek verwerf omdat daar nie enige venyn of beterweterigheid of hoogheiligheid in sy werk is nie, maar omdat hy met groot deernis die mense en gemeenskappe van Suid-Afrika uitbeeld. Mense en gemeenskappe met baie gebreke, maar onder hulle is daar individue met die verbluffende vermoë om uit te styg bo dit wat klein, selfsugtig en gemeen is.
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Van Anna-Mart van der Merwe
Met ’n geboortedagviering is die kanse baie goed dat ’n kado'tjie of twee dalk na jou kant toe sal kom, Athol!
Dit is egter ons wat vir jou wil dankie sê vir die grootse kado wat jy nie net aan ons persoonlik nie, maar ook aan die wêreld gegee het en nog steeds gee!
Jou verstommende empatie en omarming van die mens en jou intense nuuskierigheid ten opsigte van hierdie ondermaanse en al haar kinders (mens, fauna en flora) het ons ’n skatkis van literatuur en ervaringe gebied.
Eendag tydens Painted rocks at Revolver Creek-repetisies het jy skielik kiertsregop gesit en gesê: “No man, a good performance does not come from a hernia!”
Hoop jy bederf jouself vandag om die lewe te vier en ook net so vir ’n ruk suutjies op die stoep te sit en oor die wye vlakte van jou ryke herinneringe uit te staar.
Met baie liefde, die grootste respek en dankbaarheid van my as mens en aktrise.
***
Van Marius Weyers en sy vrou Evette
Wie was nog so gelukkig om sewe van jou toneelstukke te doen? En twee en ’n halwe was met jou as regisseur – die halwe was toe jy my ’n crash course gegee het met Valley song wat ek toe by jou in New York oorgeneem het.
Dankie vir die voorreg, Athol, om die humor, pyn, die mooi en ook die minder mooi van jou karakters te ontgin. En dan boonop die blootstelling aan jou insig en jou enorme medemenslikheid. ’n Geseënde 90 vir jou, Oubaas. Doe zo voort, jongeman. Alles wat mooi is,
Happy birthday to Athol Fugard!
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From Tshamano Sebe
Just last night I watched Blood knot at the Baxter Theatre, a play written by Fugard back in 1961. It's amazing to me that this man, who was already writing plays at that time, never continues to run out of stories to tell. When I first heard of Athol Fugard while I was growing up, I learned that he was already at the time respected as one of the greats. He became someone that we as young black actors looked up to and aspired to work with. It was therefore a great honour to perform his work decades later and then, finally, to work with him at the Fugard Theatre, which was lovingly named after him. In 2016 he directed me in one of his latest plays, Painted rocks at Revolver Creek, and although he took breaks for naps during our rehearsals he still had that fire for theatre, for performance, for storytelling that he has become known for in South Africa and the world. I am grateful to have been able to work with him and that he has shared some of his fire with me. 90 candles, that is a lot of fire after all. Keep shining, Mr Athol Fugard! Happy birthday!
Warm regards
Tshamano Sebe
Picture of John Kani and Athol Fugard: Paula Fourie
Much love
Sandra
Kommentaar
Baie geluk met jou verjaarsdag, Athol Fugard. Die Bybel sê ons sal 70 jaar oud word en as ons sterk is, 80. Jy, boet, word toe 90, wat sê jy is BAIE STERK! Jy het al jou vyande oorleef en selfs al was jy 'n krieketspeler, sou jy met dié telling die eerste span gehaal het. Jy is die bewys van daai gebod wat met 'n belofte kom: “Eer jou vader en jou moeder sodat jou dae verleng mag word.” Jy herinner my aan die Sestiger-skrywers wat die stelsel van Apartheid en onderdrukking nie net aan die Kaak gestel het nie, maar dit in die bek geruk het. Kyk maar na die eksponente – Adam Small, Breytenbach en André P. Brink, om maar 'n paar te noem. As jy die Sestigers ken, weet jy dat HULLE Afrikaans oopgeskryf het. Dankie vir al die dramas ... lewenslesse wat ons almal geleer het. Jy is die bewys dat, net soos William Shakespeare, sal jou oeuvre en die kuns ons almal orleef! 'n Baas-storieverteller! Godspeed on this next part of life’s journey! Some see it as your twilight years – I see it as your golden years! ENJOY!!!