RIP Abdullah Ibrahim

Like many today, we have recently heard of the passing of Abdullah Ibrahim. An utterly unique musician and talented jazz pianist, Ibrahim is also one of the jazz legends we have had the good fortune to see live. His music takes the listener on a journey through many moods, landscapes, and images, employing dissonance, balladry, Monkish or Ellington-inspired blutopia. Our only regret is not pursuing the chance to see Abdullah Ibrahim again in the US. Requiescat in pace.

Tula Ndivile

Going down the rabbit hole of jazz in the 1960s and 1970s led us to Johnny Dyani, which of course led back to Miriam Makeba. There's something so majestic and uplifting about her singing in these early South African vocal groups, like the Manhattan Brothers. I also recall shocking a South African person when, back in the day, I could sing some of these tunes.

Mra...Live

Another live performance of a personal favorite from Chris McGregor, written by the legendary Dudu Pukwana. Something about South African Jazz just lifts the spirits while capturing that joie de vivre of South Africa. This version slows things down and features a vocalist.

Into Yam

"Into Yam" has long been one of our favorite songs performed by Miriam Makeba. Ever since hearing it in the trailer in Come Back, Africa, actually. To make it even more amazing, Miriam Makeba performed it live in 1978 with Dollar Brand, or Abdullah Ibrahim. There's something majestic in South African music, and their jazz tradition is also exemplary. Combining the two is always a good idea, as Johnny Dyani and other South African jazz artists have demonstrated.

King Solomon's Mines

Although Haggard was far from a great novelist, his King Solomon's Mines was published at the perfect time. The recent Western re-discovery of the ancient zimbabwe stone structures in southern Africa with concurrent racialized imperialist fantasies during an era of burgeoning British imperial expansion in southern Africa created a climate favorable for a popular romance eager to read stories of adventure in an unknown African interior. Adding an imperialist layer with the background of Solomon's legendary mines and legends of an ancient "white" race that erected fabulous ruins in the dark heart of Africa must have appealed to some British readers, who could see in themselves the rightful successors to the light-skinned invaders who once conquered the native population. There's even a thin layer of historical references to the Portuguese past presence in the region (the old Dom) and the return of a "white" race represented by the Anglo-Saxon. 

Haggard, however, awkwardly combines his racist fantasy with an admiration of the Zulu people, the model for the Kukuanas who ruled the area of King Solomon's Mines. Due to his own penchant for racialist theories of gallant Viking or Dane warriors and the type of masculinist culture of honor and military valor they supposedly represented, Haggard, or his narrator, Quartermain, seem to view the Zulu as a great native "race" of noble savages. However, as a savage "black" population, they are destined to fall under benevolent British rule. And if you think Haggard would actually go as far as including a consummated relationship between a black woman, Foulata (whose name might be a reference to the Fulani people of West Africa), and a white man, Good, you will be disappointed. Instead, black and white are never to cross. The races are presumably immutable and black and white too different, despite the expressed admiration of Haggard's three white protagonists for the Kukuanas. 

In his own way, Haggard seems to want the Kukuanas to be left alone, but surely the Anglo-Saxon "race" will extend their control over the noble Kukuana peoples. Quartermain, Henry and Good convince Umbopa to end some of the barbaric superstitions and violent traditions of the Kukuanas, and despite the Kukuana king's promise to resist any white encroachment, we all know what transpired in Rhodesia and the rest of the African continent. Quartermain and friends represent an earlier stage in the colonial relationship, one that sought to restrict execution without trial and eradicate the witch-hunting rituals. But like their Zulu model, the Kukuana will surely fall under direct British rule. 

Despite it's flaws in structure and prose, the novel must have been one of the influences on Pauline Hopkins. Hopkins, drawing from the Ethiopianist Christian tradition and focused on ancient Meroe, obviously held a differing view on race. In her novel, Reuel, the light-skinned African-American, returns and becomes king of an ancient, lost state modeled on Meroe and Biblical allusions. Unlike Umbopa, Haggard's noble savage, Hopkins endeavored to craft fully-fleshed out character, not just stereotypes. Moreover, the Ethiopianist and racial vindicationist tradition Hopkins drew from made Telassar an advanced civilization, not like the Kukuanas who merely inherited the chainmail and infrastructure left behind by an ancient white race. For Hopkins, Meroe and the idea of a Nubian origin of civilization was meant to inspire African Americans. So, Hopkins borrowed from the lost world type of literature Haggard excelled in to write a novel that would uplift black Americans and encourage them to see something positive in their African origin. The two authors perhaps share an uncomfortable emphasis on racial identity as a driving force to which all must ultimately embrace or suffer the consequences, although Reuel is of mixed-race ancestry. 

Ntyilo Ntyilo (Little Bird)

Although lacking the heavenly voice of Miriam Makeba, this exceptionally beautiful interpretation of Xhosa song "Nytilo Nytilo" is too gorgeous. 

Radebe

South African jazz legends Johnny Dyani and Dudu Pukwana are on fire. Brazilian groove and rhythm meets Dudu Pukwana's joyful township sounds while Danish John Tchicai does his Albert Ayler-like blowing that does not clash at all with Pukwana. Dyani's bass is the pulse.

Jazz brings the world together.

Magwaza

Legendary South African jazz bassist Johnny Dyani at his best on "Magwaza." Much like Abdullah Ibrahim's South African-inspired compositions, "Magwaza" is a deceptively simple, multi-layered groove echoing Dyani's Xhosa and traditional influences. Much like Abdullah Ibrahim's meditative work celebrating Africa, Dyani, Tchicai, and Pukwana capture the splendor of traditional and popular South African musical traditions. This meeting point between jazz and traditional music is what others have tried to accomplish successfully, from Coltrane to Ayler, but the majesty of South African folk styles brings to the forefront something lacking in Coltrane's "Africa."

Johannesburg Mines (Langston Hughes)

In the Johannesburg mines

There are 240,000 natives working.

What kind of poem

Would you make out of that?

240,000 natives working

In the Johannesburg mines.

Boyhood: Scenes from Provincial Life

"After he left, there is a debate about what to do with the teacup. The custom, it appears, is that after a person of colour has drunk from a cup the cup must be smashed. He is surprised that his mother's family, which believes in nothing else, believes in this. However, in the end his mother simply washes the cup with bleach."

Coetzee's fictionalized memoir of his boyhood days is fascinating to compare with similar works by other South African authors. Although born before the official beginning of apartheid, the legacy of racial discrimination obviously preceded that, as Coetzee's youth indicates. Although coming from a white and on the surface, well-to-do background, John Coetzee (and the book is written in the third person, to distance the 'real' Coetzee from the fictionalized version of his younger self) experiences family dysfunction, loss, sexual discovery, a keen awareness of the suffering of animals, and acknowledgement of racial and class discrimination. 

Of course, anyone looking for a factual account of apartheid and white-minority rule in South should read Down Second Avenue or Kaffir Boy for insights into the Black South African experience, but it's interesting to see the evolution of Coetzee's identity and attention to social inequality from a sympathetic white perspective. The earliest reference to racial or ethnic discrimination is in the casual anti-Semitism of Worcester, something Coetzee's supposedly 'liberal' and English-minded mother and uncles participate in. "Natives" are rare in young Coetzee's world (except for the delivery 'boy,' a man, who is seen by Coetzee's parents as representative of a wasteful new generation of 'Natives'), but clearly inhabit the shadows. The Coloured (multiracial) inhabitants of Worcester, the Karoo, and Cape Town are clearly the major Other in the text, yet presented as being closer to the 'earth' and romanticized by a young Coetzee.

The numerous allusions to impoverished Afrikaans whites without shoes (and bearing brutish behavior patterns from the Anglophile point of view of John), the Coloured children abused and beaten, the Coloured children who cannot afford to see the circus but peer through the flaps of the tent, the Coloured farm workers who are the "real" inheritors of the land yet are forced to work it for white owners, or the absurd customs that Coetzee's supposedly 'English'-minded and nontraditional parents preserve about the need to smash a teacup used by any person of color in one's home indicate how before the Nationalists took power, white society in South Africa instituted a class/color hierarchy. Coloureds were not to touch guns, nor were they given the access to education that whites possessed.

The young John's hatred of his father, life in the dusty development of Worcester, and complete breakdown of the family by his teen years (back in Cape Town, after his father's wastefulness and foolish drove the family into deep debt) presents parallels with many other works by authors exploring their childhood. The archetypal loss of innocence, death, disillusionment, and constant search for identity are present here in this short memoir. Certainly, huge themes such as the aforementioned importance of race, as well as shame, disgrace, guilt, love (is it a prison, as a young Coetzee ponders) are also suggestive for the novels Coetzee wrote before and after the publication of Boyhood in the late 1990s. 

It's touching that only in the veld, or on the farm, where John can be free, is where he seems happiest, not afraid, feeling no shame, fear, or confines of family or society. On the Voelfontein farm of his father's family in the Karoo, where anything that grows in that arid landscape is blessed, he is most happy, yet, like all children facing adulthood, he knows life on the farm is not his future. Instead, the memoir ends on a rather unfortunate note in Cape Town, where John is attending poorly staffed  Catholic school, his alcoholic father, after driving the family into debt, does not look for a job, and his mother's willingness to sacrifice herself for the family (as well as see through her love, forcing John to realize his mother is an independent being with disillusionment, disappointment, hardship) propels him into adolescence.

As a short read in the three-part 'autobiography' of Coetzee, Boyhood is undoubtedly useful for fans of Coetzee's work and for a serious reading endeavor on an era in South Africa (the Western Cape in the 1940s). For anyone interested in the rise of Afrikaner nationalism and the divisions among white South Africans, Coetzee's embellished memoir also attests to the seemingly impenetrable divisions wrought by class, language, religion, culture, nationalism, war, and race. Indeed, many Afrikaans words or phrases permeate the text, in addition to the cultural and linguistic divides that separate English South Africans from the Afrikaans-speakers. A family like Coetzee's, of Afrikaans origins yet English speakers in the home, they are caught in the interstices of white South Africa, offering a unique vantage point on the nation's looming social inequities that ushered in the Nationalists and apartheid.

Favorite Quotes

"I'f being a Christian means singing hymns and listening to sermons and then coming out to torment the Jews, he has no wish to be a Christian." (24)

"Being a Catholic is a part of his life reserved for school. Preferring the Russians to the Americans is a secret so dark that he can reveal it to no one. Liking the Russians is a serious matter. It can have you ostracized." (26)

"Soon every one in his class knew about it: the new boy was odd, he wasn't normal. From that mistake, he has learned to be more prudent. Part of being prudent is always to tell less rather than more." (29)

"Afrikaans children are almost like Coloured children, he finds, unspoiled and thoughtless, running wild, then suddenly, at a certain age, going bad, their beauty dying within them." (56)

"There are white people and Coloured people and Natives, of whom the Natives are the lowest and most derided. The parallel is inescapable: the Natives are the third brother." (65)

"He does not see the point of having elections if the party that wins can change the rules. It is like the batsman deciding who may and who may not bowl." (68)

"With Coloured people in general, and with the people of the Karoo in particular, he simply does not know when they cease to be children and become men and women. It seems to happen so early and so suddenly: one day they are playing with toys, the next day they are out with the en, working, or in someone's kitchen, washing dishes." (86) 

Fred Khumalo's Bitches' Brew

Bitches’ Brew by Fred Khumalo, is an entertaining, gritty gangster novel about Zakes, a jazz trumpeter, pimp and his lover, Lettie, a woman from Lesotho. It’s sort of a hustler-love novel filled with allusions to South African and African-American jazz, particularly Miles Davis. The novel encompasses numerous aspects of South African history, urbanization, and social relations, informing the reader of the 1949 race riot between Zulus and Indians in Durban, for instance. It was also quite hilarious at times for its tone and ending, with Lettie still unsure if it’s the size or feel of a man’s penis which makes sex pleasurable. Moreover, the rise of these gangsters under apartheid and the racial mixing present in the novel, though fictional, definitely reflect the looseness of racial divisions even under the height of apartheid rule. Jazz music, a symbol of freedom, is undoubtedly part of this process of destabilizing racial barriers, a role it similarly played in the US.

Zoo City

Lauren Beukes has written an engaging thriller that defies categorization. It's urban fantasy with Johannesburg's Hillbrow taking center stage, a strong female protagonist, an interesting concept of the "animalled" featuring magic, and the dark, gritty streets of contemporary urban South Africa. Nothing is quite as it seems, those who commit crimes get "animalled," a concept explained in some of the news reports, online forums, and emails that comprise some of the chapters. Zinzi December, the novel's protagonist, has a sloth for her animal, and while not literally glued together, the magical bond that connects human to their animal is so strong they cannot part way, that is, not without using magical means.

While the novel is quite accurate to the realities of contemporary Johannesburg's Hillbrow (the daily violence, lack of police protection, gang wars, squatters, and refugees from other African countries), and it uses elements of romance, crime thriller, science fiction, and fantasy, it also endeavors to incorporate muti into the narrative. This is dangerous because it can, perhaps, be used to promote negative, outdated stereotypes of Africa as full of superstitious cannibals who believe in witchcraft. The complexities of witchcraft and muti murders in South Africa is too difficult to explain in this novel, and one sees how it ties with the "animalled" concept and Undertow, but can leave the reader with negative stereotypes of Africa. Nevertheless, in a world where animals become magically "tied" to those who commit crimes and the world responds in kind with a combination of discrimination, superstition, and magic (mashavi, the word used in southern Africa), perhaps the retention of muti beliefs in the use of human and animal body parts remains relevant (hey, even non-black characters also use it).

The novel concludes in an open-ended way, with some redemption possible for Zinzi. Ultimately, the novel seems to be about just that, Zinzi restoring her moral balance in a dysfunctional world known. As one might expect, the novel functions as allegory for apartheid in some respects, too, given that those who are "animalled" are segregated in "Zoo City," a fictionalized neighborhood in Hillbrow. Housing segregation, employment discrimination, and the reality of life for poor South Africans haunt the narrative, allowing Beukes to make light social commentary on the social discord in Johannesburg. I will have to follow Beukes's work for some time to read such an interesting science fiction story set in South Africa.

Cape Town Goema Orchestra and Sathima in Cape Town

Enjoy this lovely video of the Cape Town Goema Orchestra playing Benjamin's "Music." One of my great regrets is not speaking to Sathima despite being in the same room on UCT's campus after a performance by Abdullah Ibrahim. After taking the time to appreciate Sathima's approach to song, sometimes I think I made the wrong choice by focusing on Abdullah Ibrahim as my sole South African jazz artist. Oh, and how could I forget that just weeks after I left Cape Town, Sathima performed in the intimate (and somewhat cramped) setting of Tagore's. To hear the original, click here.

Life & Times of Michael K

Whoa. It's amazing how Coetzee manages to write a novel both about and not about apartheid with few overt references to race. Life & Times of Michael K is a thin book, yet requires laborious reading due to slow-moving prose. However, it's effusive and detailed, painting a picture of the Cape Peninsula I had the fortune to see part of during my time in South Africa. In addition, one sometimes feels Coetzee 'hammers' some of the central themes of the text later on through the thoughts of the 'simpleton' protagonist, Michael K (read this review and check this one out for some other interesting criticism of the novel's debts to Kafka, etc.).

Nonetheless, it's a fascinating experience to read an anti-apartheid text with such a universal message, the struggle to live unfettered in camps, behind high walls, the struggle to be free. That very same struggle seems to transcend racial lines, too, even in a minority-dominated South Africa in the midst of war and unrest. That is best exemplified by the presumably 'white' doctor at the camp in Kenilworth, who also desires to live free, to live life without being in the confines of camps, literal or metaphorical. I believe that theme, that universal struggle to be 'free' is better explored in this fine essay, the wish to escape 'all camps.' Naturally, this theme relates to apartheid South Africa in horrific ways, just as it could be seen as allusions to the earlier history of 'rehabilitation' and labor camps in World War II, the Boer War, or even the German genocide in colonial Namibia. Similarly, the ordeals and experiences of Michael K, from living in a cave to the dugout on the abandoned Visagie farm near Prince Albert (possibly where K's mother lived, he'll never know), the labor camps, the streets of Cape Town or Stellenbosch,

For another fascinating review of the novel, the recently deceased Nadine Gordimer puts things into perspective from a South African anti-apartheid activist and literary background. She emphasizes race and the political oppression and violence of state terror (apartheid) as shaping social relations in profoundly negative ways that prevent relations between blacks (including Coloureds, such as Michael K) and whites taking the shape of anything besides master-slave. She also highlights the importance of gardening and examines some of the political implications of the novel, especially pertaining to how Coetzee perceives (or perceived, at the time) the future of South Africa.

Overall, my own opinion of Coetzee's work is positive. I am always intrigued by his densely layered prose, his fervent attention to describing the veld and landscape, and, even in this novel, his keen interest in animal rights (think of the killing of the wild goat on the Visagie farm). Intertextuality in the novel also intrigues me (the Kafkaesque allusions), as well as Coetzee's penchant for universality in a specifically South African setting. Much like Michael after leaving the cave (which seems like an obvious Plato reference), we, as readers, are led on an allegorical path out of the cave to see the world beyond the shadows of tyranny, to find meaning.

Abdullah Ibrahim

Powerful South African jazz reflecting Abdullah Ibrahim's Muslim faith. I thought it would be appropriate to pay homage to Freedom Day with superb South African music, especially given the fact I was blessed to see the legend perform live (alas, if only I stayed in Cape Town a little longer, I would've been able to see Sathima perform!). 

Lishonile

Classic South African jazz straight out of 1970s Soweto. Enjoy! 

Ndodemnyama

While reading Jemima Pierre's thought-provoking piece on the reality of post-apartheid South Africa, I could not help but play the above anti-apartheid song. The article also has a great title ("Reconciliation is Not Decolonization"). Jemima Pierre is an excellent cultural anthropologist who has demolished so much of the academic/sociological material written by mostly white 'scholars' on race, black immigrants in the US, and West Indian/Caribbean ethnic groups in the US as drivel motivated by white stereotypes of the 'black underclass' and blackness itself. She also appears to be an astute observer and follower of trends in African history, no doubt perhaps influenced by her anthropological research. As a Haitian-American, Pierre's work has been valuable for undermining stereotypes of native African-Americans while also enlightening for African affairs. 

RIP Mandela

Although I am not really too interested in hagiography, Mandela was indeed a 'great' person and complex figure whose death, though perhaps to be expected, will be mourned forever. It seems ironic that he would die so close to the anniversary of the death of Fred Hampton, illustrating how the struggles of black folks in the US and Africa are entwined.

http://africasacountry.com/three-myths-about-mandela-worth-busting/
http://africasacountry.com/songs-for-mandela-south-african-edition/

Macy Gray, Cape Town, Life

Apparently my brother met Macy Gray at a grocery store recently. He did not know of her at the time, so he was not as stunned as I would've been, but she is still a tall black woman with a gigantic afro. My brother should have promoted himself and his music to her, but opportunities come and go like the breeze. Also, check out this post about Cape Town and the shortcomings and hypocrisy from the DA. In my opinion, if the DA's only real claim to fame is being a little more efficient and organized than the ANC, that don't mean much and they will remain a political party lacking any broad-based appeal or legitimacy. 

Long Street, Cape Town

Long Street. It's the 'nightlife district of Cape Town and nothing but those two words does a better job of conjuring images of packed streets, fake cab drivers and thieves, hordes of college students and 'real people' enjoying themselves while inebriated, overpriced and mediocre clubs and some decent restaurants and take-away places. Long Street during the day is nothing like Long Street at night, however. During the day, it can be a busy street with lots of traffic, both automobile and pedestrian, but it's usually quiet for a busy area. It feels very 'urban' and nothing like the southern suburbs of Cape Town where I spent a lot of time. In addition, it's near the gorgeous Company's Garden, the Slave Lodge, the National Gallery of Art, and several other important sites and spaces in the city centre of Cape Town.

So, if you're in the area during the day (there is also an extension of the UCT campus nearby, so one could get to the city centre for free via the university's Jammie Shuttle system for UCT students), there are lots of sights to see, interesting restaurants (including Addis in Cape, a delicious though expensive by South African standards restaurant right off Long Street, or the best falafels I had in South Africa at a Turkish place on Long Street) and beautiful public spaces to see. There's even a decent and very clean McDonald's and lots of other options, depending on one's taste (McDonald's in South Africa is not too different from US McDonald's, which was a little surprising because the KFC menus differed greatly by offering pap and some specifically South African dishes one would never find in the US). I suppose if you take the trains or minibuses to the city center, one should always be careful at the Central Train Station (where minibuses and trains stop, several random businesses operated, and 'questionable' people congregated). I never went there at night after 8, but one gay European guy I knew was almost robbed by a group of men (he probably stood out, given his love for dressing stylishly and perhaps being too flamboyant and flashing a nice phone) so it's always wiser to not go through that station at night if you're alone. Surprisingly, the guy escaped unscathed despite hitting one of the men with an umbrella!

Anyway, back to Long Street. At night, it's a whole other story. Gone are the more family-friendly spaces in the city centre and welcome to a night of sin, lust, clubbing, etc. I went out a few times, but never enjoyed it much. One club, Joburg, was a hip-hop club with a high fee of about R50 for entry (women were exempted that night) but only playing loud, dated, and commercial hip-hop music. Long Street is packed with drunken revelers, a myriad of taxis operating with trustworthy and known companies or independent, mostly African (from other African countries of black South African) 'taxis' who were a little sketchy but sometimes very easy to negotiate a good price. One could have great conversations with Congolese, Kenyan, South African, and an assortment of African taxi drivers from across the continent, such as one nice Congolese man who was very interested in talking about Congo and Haiti with a Haitian-American friend and I. Of course, he was impressed by how much we knew about his country, probably because he's not used to meeting any Americans who know a damn thing about Congo DRC.

Moving on, some of the other clubs and restaurants were nice but, again, most of the music was often generic popular music or things that just didn't interest me. In addition, alcohol also has a tendency of bringing out the worst in some people and led to pointless, inane, and unnecessary conversations and fights (all verbal) within some of the groups I occasionally hung out with. So, if you like drinking, being around drunk people who will hit on any and all women in your group (well, almost all women), and being unable to hear someone due to loud music and loud crowds, Long Street just might be the place for you. Indeed, some women's inferiority complex and self-loathing due to sexist, patriarchal gender norms and the attention certain better-looking women got could incite immature and heated conflict, despite everyone being old enough to know better. Oh well, welcome to Long Street, and welcome to the expected reality of college girls with low self-esteem.

Though I did not spend too much time there nor did I 'party it up' often, Long Street provided me with one of the mos relaxing evenings. I was with an American friend on Long Street one night after not seeing each other for weeks, and so we ended up going to a hookah place after a bar and ran into two Bahai acquaintances. My friend, Jess, knew one of them through a dinner party, a South African from Durban, and he was with a close friend of his, a postgraduate student at UCT and from Paraguay (but spent a significant portion of his time in the UK). We ended up chatting for several hours, talking about life, the Bahai faith, etc. Some of it was beyond me due to my ignorance of the faith at the time (that would change somewhat after talking more with the two fellows), but there were endearing moments, such as the childish glee those two grown men (one a recent UCT graduate living and working in Cape Town, the other about to graduate and pursue a career abroad) revealed when telling me about the possibility of purchasing a peanut butter milkshake from a restaurant on Long Street. Regardless of my general disdain for peanut butter, the happiness on their faces over something so simple and the child-like way they said, "Peanut butter!" forced me to order it. Good times, perhaps the best of times, on Long Street.

Of course, one should also check out the Timbuktu Cafe, this decent Indian joint, and a plethora of other things on and around Long Street. There's so much to see, though the city centre of Cape Town is not very impressive in the way that Johannesburg wows. And if you're one of those nightlife people, taking the cabs to Long Street every weekend (and sometimes weeknights) and enjoying the overpriced drinks, etc. will be your day. I guess if one is coming from Europe or the US, they're not too expensive, and one can feel surrounded by fellow tourists and foreigners on Long Street. Most Coloured and Black South Africans in the Cape Town area don't make enough money to enjoy Long Street like the whites and non-Capetonian people of color (including 'black diamonds' from Jo'burg or international students, expatriates, and foreigners passing through Cape Town). Indeed, if one likes the idea of being in Africa but feeling like one is in Europe or North America, there are spaces in Long Street (and, of course, other parts of Cape Town) where the only people of color you see are waiters, cleaners, security and one can listen to mediocre European dance music or pop and hip-hop from the US.