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Clement Gama03/02/2023
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8min2260

There are countless music festivals all over the globe and what makes each one unique, is its story and what it stands for. The 1969 Summer of Soul festival is remembered for how it celebrated Black history, culture, music and fashion in the cultural pot of Black America, Harlem.

This Saturday, the Marabastad Jazz Festival takes place within the halls of the South African State Theatre’s Malombo stage. It will be a day to honour those creative spirits of Marabastad who were relocated to single-race townships further away from the city centre by the white regime. It will be a time to tend to the dead. To honour the dead and their dreams, thoughts and their pain, as per Gabi Motuba on her new offering, The Sabbath, which comprises vocals, a string quartet, trumpet and Malombo drums. This performance will serve as a launch ahead of the album’s release.

The Marabastad Jazz Festival emerges from a rich history that includes warrior King Kgoshi Maraba Ledwaba I, the diverse melting pot of Marabastad, and its artistic ebullience before forced removals took hold. With prominent figures from Tshwane’s jazz, blues, and Malombo traditions, the inaugural edition is sure to become a staple in the city and worldwide. Also filled to the brim with the harmonic laments of Norman Chauke, Azah Mphago and Ayanda Sikade – the festival is a rare curatorial triumph.

Chauke has composed a song titled, Marabi a ko Marabastad for the occasion which will be played for the first time at the festival. “I grew up listening to my father, who was a jazz artist, and his band members rehearsing in our garage on weekdays preparing for their weekend gigs,” Chauke says. “They played a lot of Marabi music, and from that young age, I knew that I wanted to be a jazz musician. This is where I first learned to play the piano and other musical instruments,”

Azah Mphago. Photo supplied

Mphago will pay tribute to Marabastad through various visual and musical interpretations. This Pitori man of thought is a Pan Africanist expert percussionist, vocalist, conservationist and sonic healer whose music uses trans-disciplinary creative practices of ritual performance, clinical improvisation, pedagogy, activism, theatre movement and multi-media.

Present on the day will be Zim Ngqawana’s drummer of choice, Ayanda Sikade. The revered composer and collaborator holds a deft touch that moves audiences in unison. “Sikade isn’t a flashy drummer given to crescendi and ten-minute ooh-ya solos. He’s a quiet, precise musician with a light touch on the sticks and an even lighter one with the brushes. He rides his kit easy, not hard. When you hear a cymbal or drum-roll, it’s deliberate punctuation, not listen-to-me volume,” says jazz critic and scholar, writer Gwen Ansell on Sikade’s playing and style.

The event will be hosted by revered writer and author Percy Mabandu. Produced by Project Forty, Spotlight Creations and Khwerha Ye Afrika Projects, the festival is not only an aural feast for music lovers but a time to remember some of the foundations of South African jazz’s marabi and classical sounds.

Tickets available HERE!

About Marabastad

Marabastad was a culturally diverse community, with the Hindu Mariamman Temple arguably being its most prominent landmark. Like the residents of other racially diverse areas in South Africa, such as District Six, “Fietas” and Sophiatown, the inhabitants of Marabastad were relocated to single-race townships further away from the city centre. These removals were due to Apartheid laws like the Group Areas Act. Unlike Sophiatown, Fietas and District Six, it was not bulldozed, but it retained many of its original buildings, and became primarily a business district, with most shops still owned by the Indians who had also lived there previously. Some property was however owned by the city council and the government, resulting in limited development taking place there. In addition, a large shopping complex was built to house Indian-owned shops. The black residents of Marabastad were relocated to Atteridgeville (1945), the Coloured residents to Eersterus (1963), and the Indian residents to Laudium (1968). There are plans to revive once-picturesque Marabastad, and to reverse years of urban decay and neglect, although few seem to have been implemented as of 2005.
*Tickets to this great mark in history that not only seeks to celebrate but to preserve the heritage of South Africa can be bought via Webticket and through the South African State Theatre at R200 per ticket. Get your ticket now on:

The Marabastad Jazz festival is set to become a hallmark annual event, showcasing South African jazz talent. The festival is powered by PESP through the National Art Council and the Department of Sports Arts and Culture is a tribute to the once vibrant, multicultural, and multiracial slum called Marabastad.

For more information about the performers please visit:
Facebook: Khwerha Ye Afrika Projects
Instagram: Khwerha
Call: 0813237061

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8min1750

Speaking about the role of artists in society, the incomparable Nina Simone said: “An artist’s duty, as far as I’m concerned, is to reflect the times. I think that is true of painters, sculptors, poets, musicians. As far as I’m concerned, it’s their choice, but I choose to reflect the times and situations in which I find myself.”

Simone’s Mississippi Goddam was inspired by a number of senseless killings of African Americans, including the assassination of Martin Luther King Jr.

“There are issues we live in; I think we should address these things. For me it’s always important to write about my experiences, just to remind someone else who’s also going through the same thing [that] they’re not alone,” Mandisi Dyantyis said in an interview with the SABC last year, speaking about his sophomore album, Cwaka.

Dyantyis will perform this weekend at the Back to Live concert at Constitution Hill in Braamfontein, Johannesburg alongside Zoë Modiga, The SN Project, Dumisani Thee DJ and DJ Kenzhero.

Zoë and Dyantyis are part of a crop of South African musicians who make music that accurately speaks to our times. Getting the chance to watch them live seems more than just entertainment, but a service to one’s soul.

South Africa is in the shits. If it isn’t the rampant blackouts by Eskom, it’s the sky rocketing unemployment numbers or the ubiquity of crime on our streets. It seems each waking day we’re hit by worse news of an innocent woman being brutally murdered by a disgruntled lover or murmurings of another coalition breakdown in government. Kubi.

When an artist reflects the times they’re in through their work, it’s a strong indication to their audience that they are in touch with what the people are going through. It’s an act devoid of ignorance. Although some of this art can come off as didactic or too preachy, it has an important role. “I’m not saying I’m gonna change the world, but I guarantee that I will spark the brain that will change the world.,” 2Pac once said.

Sometimes, people can’t realise the obvious and need to hear the message from their favourite artist. I’d like to imagine that when an ardent ANC supporter hears Dyantyis’ Ziyafana, they have a light-bulb moment of the paucity of good leadership in the political party. The same can be said of most political parties actually.

Like the messiest and most painful junctures in life, hard times squeeze out the best in us and it is so in art. Dyantyis’ Cwaka is a timely body of work that went into the crevices of South Africans’ realities-be it loss, frustration or dejection – without compromising on his musical genius and authenticity.

While the gent from Gqeberha’s jazz treads on the socio-political and emotive, Zoë’s music is a constant reminder to beautiful Bantu babies of their strength. Her music sits as The Mirror of Erised for darkies, that doesn’t only show black people their heart’s desires, but also calls out the bullshit.

As James Brown’s message on Say It Loud, I’m Black & I’m Proud cannot not be misunderstood, so is Zoë’s Abantu. It’s a candid conversation she has with Bantu people- touching on black on black violence, self-image, and poverty but yet the song is mighty reassuring. “This song is dear to my heart because it’s part of all the conversations we’ve been having. It’s a beautiful love letter because it’s a song that puts us in a place of realising that we commit so much violences [sic] amongst ourselves as black bodies and part of that is calling systems into place that have allowed us to think in this way,” Modiga said during one of her live performances a few years ago.

Each time I hear Dyantyis’ Iskhalo, my imagination hastily paints out the pain of those child-headed homes or the cry of a young educated person who can’t access the job market because they are without connections. These are realities that too many South Africans live with.

“It’s a song dedicated to the youth of 1976 and it’s a song that reminds us that young people are always part of watershed moments, we always make big changes,” Zoë explaining her track Intsha to Tha Bravado, a few years ago. The song echoes the zeal and fearlessness of young people.

South Africa is in a crisis and it is music such as this that keeps us going, reminding us that change won’t come until we the people do something about it.

 

Back To Live is presented by BandaBanda Agency and ticket are available HERE.

 

Black Labone Logo
Leader: Izah Black Labone. Photo supplied
19min3270

The first five years of a child’s life are said to be important for their physical, intellectual, and social-emotional development. Picturing that child as a black girl, how you raise her in this world is crucial. Well, that’s the analogy founder of Black Labone Izah Kutsh uses to describe the Pretoria-based art movement.

“Raising a girl child in these times is very sensitive, you know. It will always depend on the parents, but it will always be sensitive. It does need a very high level of sensitivity to get it right, to assist a girl child to navigate. We had a mantra where we said black women is god…where now we were bringing to Black Labone our own sacrifices, to say these are our offerings. The fruits we bore from the work of the day, we brought to Black Labone. So it is as much mystic as it is political,” Izah tells me.

It’s a Wednesday afternoon in April that I finally get to have a chat with Izah. Under the sun we chill, adjacent the entrance of African Beer Emporium, of course the squeaky bench we’re stationed on sits a bucket with cold Black Labels. I’m ironically writing this on a Thursday night in September, five months after the day and a month post Black Labone’s anniversary.

Taking It In: Black Labone crowd. Photo supplied

Black Label is particularly special to the Black Labone movement. The name came about following days of Izah and friends being hungover from guzzling Blacks. “It was on a week when we had been drinking from gigs from the weekend. I remember chilling with the guys on Monday. One of the guys said it was Blue Monday and I was like ‘How come, when we’re drinking a Black’… yaba yiBlack Mantaha,” he says. They carried on drinking throughout that week nursing hangovers with more beer, placing the ‘Black’ in front of the day they were drinking on. “But when it got to the Labone, the name stuck…and remember we wanted to do a gig on a Thursday…”

Black Labone is an abode for creatives of all kinds, mainly from around Pretoria, but also for those who hail from distant lands. That this movement is five years old is quite significant. It is not the first art movement of its kind in the Capital City, but has proven to be the most consistent.

For their fourth anniversary last year, Black Labone hosted what Izah describes as an origin’s story. “…we had an open discussion, sort of round table discussion where we spoke of movements that have been established in Pretoria before Black Labone…what their impact was and how things are looking for artists that were involved in those movements,” he shares.

An MC: Prodiiiiiii. Photo supplied

The Ones Who Came Before

During the dialog, one of the things that kept coming up pertaining all these movements, is that they were mostly spearheaded by people from outside the city. “Be it Soweto, Mafikeng, Polokwane…these are people who were students in Pretoria. Then they establish and spearhead movements, in the city. Some of them get work here, some of them go back home or relocate because of work. Ku Phele imovement sbali, like akwenzekanga fokol. Now it’s just a memory, into abakhulumangayo estradini,” Izah says. His tone is a cocktail of sombre and frustration when speaking about these movements because of how good they were.

Black Labone’s fourth anniversary cellebrations paid homage to movements such as No Camp Chairs Poetry Picnic founded by Vangi Gantsho, Uhuru Wamayisha Poetry Movement, Capital Arts Revolution and other movements that happened around the city of Tshwane more than a decade ago. Some continued for a while after the founders left, but things weren’t the same. What’s weirdly consistent is the fall of the aforementioned movements and the organic birth of another.

Leader: Izah Black Labone. Photo supplied

With his aura of an old pedantic man that carries a hip soul, Izah speaks of how Black Labone was established. As much as its just him and I having the conversation, he reiterates that Black Labone is kept going by a dedicated team of people. At the time of the interview, the total Black Labone team stood at 16 people which include the in-house band, the guys at the door, DJs and floor manager.

Establishing Black Labone

“It took time to establish Black Labone because the mission was to create a movement that is freely available as these movements were, but also it needed to be self-sustaining. A self-sustaining programme but also a long standing programme,” explains Izah.

The Black Labone pilot took place in the last week of July in 2017 at the Old Fire Station, no invites were shared on social media as they routinely do today. The invites were through word of mouth. “If we invite people esibhaziyo thina, how many of them would come…conclusively so that we know that we are doing the launch. This is the pilot in July, first week of August is the launch.”

A handful of people pitched but what’s worse is that the sound guy didn’t bother coming. “isound azange ifiike King. So much so, on the day of what was supposed to be the gig became the meeting for the gig next week.”

From the unintended meeting, a solid plan of action was agreed upon. There was a sense of community in how people volunteered to provide sound, photography or assist wherever needed at the actual launch the following week. This must be the root of their slogan “Showing up is showing love.”

Stationed: Black Labone during its Old Fire Station days. Photo supplied

Finding an Abode

The movement has been at the African Beer Emporium for at least three years now after leaving their launching pad, the Old Fire Station. As Black Labone grew in numbers in mid-2018, the movement became a problem to some living at the Old Fire Station. “We had to leave the Fire Station. It wasn’t savoury…we left at a very sour point. In a space of a year, it wasn’t the space we launched the programme in. It changed rapidly.”

The Fire Station is partly an artist hub but also houses people who aren’t in the art space, creating a tussle between the artists and the residents. While that was ongoing, Izah and the team were already looking for alternative venues in the city to host Black Labone.

In early 2019 the guy who manages the African Beer Emporium had attended Black Labone at the Fire Station and liked it so much, he offered to host the movement at ABE, first starting it out as a First-Thursday concept featuring Black Labone as one of the items on their programme. “We said we’d rather have a three-month trial run and should it be successful, on the fourth month we’ll start doing it weekly gigs. But by the second month, we started doing weekly shows”

Black Labone has also been hosted at Four Four Two.

Self-Sustenance

The spirit of volunteerism and sense of camaraderie works for the movement, at least until they are able to sustain themselves in that particular department. For example, the in-house band volunteered their instruments until now, where some instruments are provided by Marshall Music. “Marshall Music donated the drum kit to us, it’s our job to maintain it. They volunteered a drum kit, just like the artist volunteer their performances,” Izah says.

Black Labone House Band

One of their goals was to be self-sustaining when they started because using personal funds wasn’t something they’d be able to withstand. “When we started, there were times where I paid for the sound myself…even team members would contribute directly. By self-sustaining, now the event doesn’t require any of us to pay from our pockets anymore. The program sustains itself in that regard.”

They now have an agreement with a sound company, Greenlight Sound, which provides sound every week. “Jonathan [Greenlight Sound owner] is not the first sound man we’ve worked with. We’ve had to go through a lot of them. Jonathan likes Black Labone more than it is worth, we don’t pay the worth of the sound. But because of the frequency of the gig also, it adds a bit of value. It’s the one gig he can trust to happen come hell or high water.”

Man Of The House: Nafy Dread playing a set at Black Labone. Photo supplied

The Black Labone Stage

The movement has hosted some renowned artists such MXO, MoAfrika, The Brother Moves On, iPhupho L’ka Biko, Sibusile Xaba, Ntsiki Mazwai and plenty more. There is also the thrill of always without fail, being introduced to new talent at Black Labone. Whether a folk singer on the main stage or a smooth spinner on the Annex Stage.

All Smiles: Ladies enjoing a good moment at Black Labone. Photo supplied

Some of the prominent artists are booked and paid for by someone who purely loves the movement. “There are bands that come to Black Labone funded to play. Sometimes anonymously. A person would tell us ‘arrange a date for the artist or band and I will a deposit on the Tuesday ahead of the gig'” Izah tells me.

Some of the artists that have played on the Black Labone stage will get a reminder from the organisers to return or even they’ll request to perform as part of their tour itinerary or simply to try out new material.

Izah says artist have also found ways of making gains within the Black Labone programme. Musician Thapelo Khumisi asked to perform and also campaign for votes after being nominated in the Classical Jazz category in the Central Music Awards. “At the end of his performance, he asked the crowd for votes…and he won.”

Winner: Thapelo Khumisi with his award. Photo supplied

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