BY Mandi ‘Poefficient’ Vundla |
Tony Miyambo holds a BA in Dramatic Arts from Wits University. He has an extensive Theatre background and sometimes dabbles in Television work. After watching his One Man Play: Cenotaph for Dan WA Moriri, I couldn’t help but feel as though I had just met Miyambo’s father and walking from the Market Theatre to Capellos actually felt like we had just come from his funeral. A drink is all we needed to flush the sorrow down and unpack the process it took for Miyambo to relive his grief. Some people keep memory boxes to safeguard memories. Tony Miyambo wrote a play.
Please take us through the conceptualization of the play
There was a course in my Third Year called ‘Transformation’ where I dealt with two subject matters: My dad and Memory; particularly from the lack of access to a clear memory of him. This is when I interfaced with Gerard on the subject matter. Fast-forward, two years later to the year 2014 where Gita Pather commissioned me for the first play at the inaugural So-Solo Festival at Wits University. She asked me: “What story do you want to tell and who do you want to work with?” I said I want to tell a story about my dad but I don’t know what the story is or what it looks like and I want to work with Gerard Becker. She gave provided us with capital and advised that we would talk again
when I am more certain about the story I want to write.
Then Gerard and I started having sessions at the Hillbrow Theatre, where he works and we’d discuss my childhood; my adolescent phase; my father and the role that he played in my life leading to his death. There was one particular session that was frustrating for me because I was struggling to recall clear details about my father. In one session this turned into a game we played: Remembering.
“I remember he was standing here, no actually he was standing there. He move to this point, we turned around and I looked away.”
This became the device that emerged from that session, this idea of being able to map him physically, emotionally and mentally. Where certain spaces were, how certain things looked and how that made me feel. We then realized that there was a relationship between the story that I was struggling to tell and the struggle to remember. And how I could remember that would enable me to place things in particular areas. That’s the impulse that led to the further development of Cenotaph. Then we had to decide what belongs in the play. The process with the work has been to distill and to clarify what it is that were trying to tell about my father.
How did the play get into the Market Theatre?
After the play showed at the Wits So Solo Festival. We made History again by being the first play from Wits Theatre to get chosen at the Grahamstown Main Festival, that platform alerts certain people of the caliber of work that you are doing and James Ngcobo (Art Director for the Market Theatre) came to watch the show, he loved it and he wanted it to run at The Market.
Your intention with the play was for it to help you remember your dad, was this intention fulfilled?
The play fulfilled an emotional desire but it also created a lot more questions and gray areas than before. Initially, I was certain of myself, that I knew my dad. I knew how he looked and smelt. But the play required a level of detail that needed me to invest more in trying to describe and trying to explain. When that process began, my frustration was that I could no longer remember. The play created more questions and more opportunities to help me learn more about him.
You say “The play fulfills an emotional desire.” Can we call it healing? Does art Heal?
Yes we can call it healing. Art does what it needs to do in that moment. This process has been about healing; learning and remembering.
Has your family watched the play?
Yes, they watched it for the first time here at the Market. It was very difficult, especially for my mother. She got caught in trying to explain everything that I had referenced in the play and
I told her she doesn’t need to. Because what happened between my parents, is what happened between them. My discomfort was the palpable silence in the household about this man. Nobody talked about it. We didn’t even go to his grave as a family and those are the issues that I needed to address and now that they are out in the open, I hope we can find a way to move on. The experience was great for my younger sister, to see her learn about him because she was really young when he passed. It was tough for my older sister and I think her and my mom spoke more about the things that happened. My nieces are coming to watch soon, it will be interesting to hear their views because they don’t know my father. They were born after he passed.
You said, in transformation class, you learned how to turn the personal into a narrative. Would you say this course served the astounding execution of your vulnerability on stage?
The course is called Transformation, it really demands a certain level of self-understanding:
as a person and as a performer and the ability to utilize that as a biography to create a body of work.
What I took away from that class is: the narrative that’s important to the artist no matter how small, is important. The vulnerability stems from another course that Gerard taught called clowning: The simple clown. A figure that finds himself in trouble and plays games to get himself out of trouble honestly and truthfully. There needs to be an acknowledgement of weakness and vulnerability, you can’t be a clown if you’re not weak or vulnerable. Over and above that, we thought, how do we combine the vulnerability with games so that the play isn’t too heavy for people?
To provide moments of lightness, like when the character Is balancing a block on his elbow because that’s what he needs to do for the next couple of minutes. It could mean something metaphoric
for someone or not. It could be little young Tony playing a game or older Tony trying not to deal with the weight of what’s happening in that moment or maybe I want to take time out from doing a serious play and play with blocks.
“Ok…ok, I’m gonna come back now. Can you see how tall I can make this tower? Ok…ok, I’m gonna come back now. Actually did you see when I put the block on my chest? OK…ok, I’m gonna come back now”
People have read the program, they have read the reviews, they know it’s about my father; they know my father died. The interesting thing though is: what journey do I build for them to get to that moment where they understand everything in the greater scheme of things.
What is your pre-preparation process for this play?
Physical Exercise: 20minutes of proper stretches, some salutations are really great.
Most of this I learned at school.
Breathing: because I have a tight upper chest, there’s an exercise that isolates where you’re sending breath and at some point you put it all together and you’re able feel how the chest, stomach and diaphragm all work together to give you good breath. Extensive vocal warm ups; long periods of humming my consonants and my vowels.
I massage my tongue and when I’m being nice to myself I go for the Thai-Sports massage.
Tell us about your schooling years
I studied BA in Dramatic Arts at Wits. When my mother left home, I stayed with my dad and at that point I was doing well in Drama at school. I attended Sir Pierre Van Ryneveld high in Kempton Park
but my story actually begins in primary school.
I used to play Soccer, I was the best goal keeper that primary school had ever seen.
When I got to high school, the poles got three times bigger and during try outs all the guys kicked into the top corner, then I realized that maybe to be a goalkeeper you also need height so there went the Soccer dream. When I tried out for Cricket, they told me I could cricket score, there went the Cricket dream. I tried out for Rugby, I was tackled once and I left the field, there went the Rugby Dream.
I tried out for athletics and I couldn’t run for sh*t, there went the Athletics Dream.
Then someone told me about the Drama Group, so tried out for drama and I excelled.
My family knew that I wanted to do Drama but we were short of funds so I got a learnership with Telkom and studied I.T at PC training and Business College. My dad said: “You’re only doing this in the meantime, when I have the money, you can attend to Drama School.” When my dad died I knew that wasn’t going to happen. I remember when we were networking PC’S at Wits, i took a look at their prospectus and applied but late and I was accepted but I didn’t have enough funds so I took a student loan. I had an amazing girlfriend at that time who allowed me to squat with her. I squatted for two of my four years at Wits and it was difficult. You were expected to do physical and intellectual classes while you were hungry.
As a result, we started a Drama support group where we’d help each other with our work and that’s where the culture of consultation stems from. We started a feeding scheme that would feed about 30 students at that time. We used to study and work together, that was a really important time in my life. If the support system hadn’t come into fruition, I doubt that I would have stayed and finished my Drama Degree. Going through the day having to figure out where you’re going to lay your head at night was no way to live. At some point I just immersed myself in my work and part of that work included working with other students on their assignments. When I was working I didn’t have time to wallow in self-pity, so I completed my degree, then I went on tour to the UK and the Netherlands and when I came back I was financially stable. I never went back home since. The lovely thing about studying at Wits was that it allowed me to develop other skills, I developed a deep passion for Television and Film which I’m intimately involved in now.
Cenotaph is the play that has provided me with a consistent salary. My theatre work has existed on the fringes, this is play is my first professional theatre debut. I’ve been out of Wits since 2011 and this is the first time I’ve performed on the Marker Theatre Stage. James Ngcobo said that this is the first time a black man has performed a solo piece at the Market since 2006, so it’s a big deal for me.
You’ve received training for the work that you do, what about those that are skilled
but don’t have formal training?
I think anyone is a possible collaborator or co-creator, I’ve taken it upon myself to view people as equals. In as much as there are lessons I can teach because of the training I’ve received, the same applies with the knowledge they possess in the form of raw talent or impulse; they could also teach me. Fortunately this is a profession that requires an intimate understanding of impulses and intuition and that’s has shaped some really great actors that haven’t received any formal training.
There are people who don’t need training; they are doers and this is a craft of doing because if you don’t do, you become stagnant and fall by the wayside.
My greatest pleasure has been to combine my practice with my training and that’s why it’s important
for me to keep doing, to keep producing plays; to keep finding opportunities for my plays,
if you get into the habit of not doing it becomes much harder for you to come back to from it.
So if you haven’t received any formal training, align yourself with people who have. Share with them; speak to them about their formats; ask to observe. Ask to sit in on rehearsals, ASK QUESTIONS. Once you tap into this habit you will realize that there is a world of knowledge that is available to you. We also have the internet and books, you can read, this can be self-taught, you just need the presence of mind to know what it is that you lack in order to build and work on that.
James Ngcobo has had have formal training, everything he knows is from doing. He is an actors directors.
What books should actors be reading?
Actors should read Grotowski : Towards a Poor Theatre; I’m a Cicely Berry fan, I went to the Royal Shakespeare Company and I studied under her. Konstantin Stanislavski: An actor prepares and
the book, An Actor Plays.
Reading is very important, I’m trying to read local and African writers.
I interface with as many formats as I can except for musicals because they are so white yet
black people are talented singers. This industry is very white and I think the change will come from the fringes. Young actors shouldn’t be discouraged by that, they should continue to create work
I’m excite by spaces like the The Platform and the Pop Art; as difficult as Maboneng is as a space that is accessible to black people, Pop Art is putting on black work; I’m excite by The Space.com; In a 20km radius you have seven Fringe venues that are servicing young up and coming black theatre makers unashamedly. That’s the work we should be interfacing with more than books. When I speak about doing, that’s what I’m talking about.
