Time travelling with William Kentridge
By Alexandra Dodd
27 February 2015
Quick quick. Tick tock. The time has come. It is 8:25 pm. Wine must be gulped and put
aside at the door as we file in to the hall and take our seats in rows of old metal-framed,
fold-down chairs with wooden armrests. The dress rehearsal for the South African debut
of William Kentridge's immersive multimedia chamber opera,
Refuse the
Hour, is about to begin.
The faded Edwardian grandeur of Cape Town's City Hall forms an ideal backdrop for the
Constructivist stage set with its archival hues and didactic slogans: "argument against
authority"; "give us back our sun"; "talking against thinking"… The giant pipes of
the old organ rise up over an assembly of musical contraptions, bicycle wheels and
megaphones, mechanised drums and other mysterious paraphernalia. We have entered
the laboratory of the mad professor in Mary Shelley’s
Frankenstein and we
are about to witness
an unorthodox experiment.
It begins with drumbeats from above – a theatrical flourish, the primal heartbeat,
relentless knocking on an unopened door. It begins with a story inside a story; an eight-
year-old boy is travelling on a train with his father. His father tells him a tale. It is the
myth of Perseus and it has a cruel ending. It is unjust, but inevitable, irreversible. It
sets in motion a lifetime of fevered questioning – interrogations concerning the nature of
being in time and the inescapable pressure that time exerts on the living. The boy is
William – the man we know as Kentridge. And so begins 80 minutes of ecstatic
journeying inside the frenetic mind of a creative titan.
Sonic and visual language
The project grew out of a series of ongoing conversations with Peter Galison, a Harvard
professor in the history of science and physics, and wrestles with the idea of time
moving in a single direction. For physics it can go both
ways. The production explores
these ideas about the reversal, compression and repetition of time in sonic and visual
language.
The auditory aspect is a revelation – transporting the archival bent in Kentridge's oeuvre
into the realm of the futuristic. The ether is abuzz with strange sonic glitches and blips,
as echoes are compressed, words reversed, emitted sounds sucked back in on
themselves. We are caught somewhere between frequencies on an old transistor radio,
picking up the spatial feedback of the universal archive.
Of course, the stars and cosmos have always been there in Kentridge's work, but now
an electrifying outward-bound sense of the Russian space station accompanies his
backward gaze at the failed utopian thrust of the Constructivists. There is this sense of
moving both back and forward – no risk of nostalgia.
Each scene introduces a new thought, a fresh philosophical proposition, and each
deserves its own chapter. One such
goosebump-inducing moment is the dialectical duet
between opera singer and member of the Soweto Gospel choir Ann Masina and sonic
glitch artist Joanna Dudley, who is from the Berlin contemporary modernist music scene.
There is nothing to prepare one for this strange, alluring dialogue about the birth and
death of sound and other things.
Gifted shapeshifter
Refuse the Hour is a deeply collaborative, multi-vocal production with
many layers, many actions and images colliding on the stage at once. It includes dance,
performed and choreographed by gifted shapeshifter Dada Masilo, an original score by
Philip Miller (who takes to the stage in one hauntingly tender scene, blowing into a
plaintive melodica or mouth organ), video by wizard cutter Catherine Meyburgh,
mechanical sculptures made in collaboration with Sabine Theunissen, vocal performance
and narration.
If you returned to see it several times, each time you'd emerge having
resonated with
different aspects of the performances, previously unseen shards of the action. Its
themes are timeless and also, somehow, pressingly of this moment, triggering a panoply
of associations.
Some of the connections it called to mind were Achille Mbembe's meditations on the
postcolony as an "interlocking of … multiple durées made up of discontinuities,
reversals, inertias and swings that overlay one another"; photographer Cedric Nunn's
current exhibition,
Unsettled: One Hundred Years War of Resistance by Xhosa
Against Boer and British; the time catastrophe, tidal-wave scene in the film,
Interstellar (2014); the brilliant androgynous vision of linked lives across
time in the filmic adaptation (2012) of David Mitchell's novel,
Cloud Atlas
(2004) – but, most presciently, the paradoxically generative idea of the all-consuming
force of the black hole which is also at the centre of
The Theory of Everything,
the
Stephen Hawking biopic for which Eddie Redmayne has just taken home an
Oscar.
From cropped Soviet haircuts to screenprinted aprons, overalls, workerist denim
dresses, Cape minstrel fezzes, and the bold black-and-white lines of Xhosa dress design,
the costumes by Greta Goris are a swoon-worthy evocation of this mesmerising
postcolonial account of time.
'Perceptive by feeling'
Refuse the Hour has aptly been described as "an aesthetic and
philosophical stage dream". The word "aesthetic" was appropriated into German in the
18th century and adopted into English in the early 19th, from the Greek
aisthētikos, which means "perceptive by feeling". But the term has had a
contested history in Western philosophy, coming, ironically, to be applied to the
disinterested, distanced, rational act of good judgment about art and the beauties of
nature. Phansi to that!
Refuse the Hour is a profoundly "aesthetic"
production in the original sense
of the word in that it gives audiences an immediate, pulsing physical sense of what it
feels like to perceive – to know by feeling, to understand through and by the senses. It
hijacks the term back from its aloof Kantian deployment and gives it back its social,
economic and political potency – its potential for human awakening. Every idea, no
matter how complex, is explained, transmitted, made real through the beating,
flickering, thumping and soaring effects of sound and light. It is a work made by bodies
to be felt and understood in the body – both in the intimacy of our own bodies and in
the charged political spaces between them.
This review originally appeared on the Design Indaba website. It is republished here with kind
permission.
Refuse the Hour is a theatrical accompaniment to a five-channel video installation,
The Refusal of Time (made
in collaboration with Philip Miller, Catherine Meyburgh and
Peter Galison), presented by the Goodman Gallery at the Iziko National Gallery in Cape
Town from February to June 2015.