Mooi Street and Other Moves by Slabolepszy Paul;

Author:Slabolepszy, Paul;
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Wits University Press
Published: 2020-08-15T00:00:00+00:00

Note on music:

The old Boer folk song ‘Trekliedjie’ was used by Glynn Storm as the basis of the sound track. Rearranging the melody and using guitar, strings, choral voices and so on, he created a wonderful musical backdrop to the play. This tape is available to future producers of Smallholding.

ACT ONE

Scene One

The smallholding of the title comprises a much greater area than the corner depicted on stage. In it is an old, small-to-medium sized caravan, propped up on bricks. The name ‘Costa Lotta’ is splashed across it. The caravan stands on the diagonal, stage left. There is a makeshift wooden step in front of the door. An outside patio area is bordered by tatty fairy lights. On it is a braaiplace, a double car seat, potted plants in petrol tins, and so on. To one side, there is a sawn-off forty-four-gallon drum with the name ‘Sasol’ stencilled onto it. It has a lid. Next to it is a wooden box containing cabbage leaves. Beside the caravan is a lounge chair displaying signs of flood damage. The caravan itself is decorated with kudu horns, buffalo horns and other bric-a-brac. A complex, elaborate television aerial is perched atop, complete with plastic orange – an eccentricity that smacks of boere-kitsch. A working water tap is located at the downstage corner of the caravan. The entire area should exude an atmosphere of gaudy domesticity. It is all too much, and quite over the top.

The play begins with a jaunty rendition of ‘Trekliedjie’, sung with gusto. As the stage pre-set fades to blackout, the song echoes away and cross-fades into a slower, instrumental version of the same tune – the atmosphere is lyrical, romantic.

A pin-spot (follow-spot) picks up a young man, centre-stage. He is dressed in a suit and has a loose tie around his neck. He wears glasses. His tone is personal, measured. his Afrikaans accent easy on the ear.

CHRISTIAAN: There are things that happen in your life every day. Everyday things. They happen and then – that’s it – they finish. [He turns slowly to look at the caravan. As he does so, a soft yellow glow emanates from the net-curtained windows and the fairy lights that surround the patio fade up.] But then there are things that happen – strange things. So strange, you think – no, wait a minute – did that really happen? Or did I just imagine it? Maybe it was just a dream. A dream that seemed real, but a dream all the same. You say – okay – you leave it at that. I mean, why place any importance on a dream?

[He turns, as though to leave, but is arrested by the further illumination of the area – the ‘picture’ coming to life, as it were.] But then that dream stays with you. Only it’s more than a dream. It’s more of a kind of a – nightmare ... [Beyond the fairy lights, distant and haunting, we hear the long mournful sound of a howl.

Whether we identify it as man or dog, makes no difference.

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