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Kunapipi XXIV: 1&2 MIKI FLOCKEMANN Spectacles of Excess or Threshold to the `Newness'?: Brett Bailey and the Third World Bunfight PerformersOne of the most innovative and controversial presences
at the Grahamstown festival over last few years has undoubtedly been Brett
Bailey and his Third World Bunfight performers. Both the controversy and
innovation are associated with his use of what can be called shock aesthetics,
as well as with the subjects dealt with in the plays which he describes
as `worlds in collision'. Looking at some of the pre-and-post-production
shots, one gets a sense of what he means when he says, `I have quite a
crude aesthetic
but I can see what's beautiful underneath the shell'
(qtd in Smith, 4). Often these do not represent actual scenes from the
plays, but offer suggestive, highly stylised, yet literally embodied images
either as freeze-frame tableaux or moving spectacle. For example, the
1999 festival brochure advertising The Prophet depicts Abey Xakwe,
the protean actor who appears in many guises as central figure in most
Bunfight productions, here playing Nongqawuse, posed on top of a hill,
Christlike, with arms outstretched. (Se figure 3, p. 256.) Observing the
hill more closely one sees that it is composed of aesthetically intertwined
corpses, seaweed and cattle skulls. Such visual metaphor yoking together
Christian sacrifice and the history of the Xhosa Cattle killing is typical
of Bailey's work which symbolically and literally intrudes onto culturally
sacred ground. However, again typically, this particular image is not
necessarily a connection explored in the play itself.
Bailey has been criticised for reinforcing grotesquely parodic stereotypes of Africa but also hailed as showing the way to a new kind of South African theatrical experience. Drawing on indigenous and creolised performance traditions from all over the world, his spectacularly staged works use large casts, including professional performers and locals children, sangomas, priests and resident choirs who `perform themselves' to re-enact historical events in ways that foreground the contructedness of cultural and historical memory. The emphasis seems to be less on what this kind of theatre `means' than on what it `puts together', often incongruously, but at a time when there is a public obligation to uncover the truth about South Africa's past and achieve some attempt at reconciliation, or simply closure, such works which unsettle already fragile, contested and even familiar realities, are bound to raise questions.
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