(words by Mkamzee Mwatela)
Stella Adler, one of the foremost teachers of acting and a student of Constantin Stanislavski said, “The word theatre comes from the Greeks. It means the seeing place. It is the place people come to see the truth about life and the social situation.”
Kenyan theatre now is different. It is different from what it was ten years ago as that is different too, from what it was twenty years ago. Does that mean it is dead? Going by Miss Adler’s definition, I would have to say ‘No’. So why do we keep asking the question? My answer is avoidance. You see a poster of a show on facebook, on the notice board at the Alliance Francaise, or on that back page of the newspaper. “It looks interesting,” you think to yourself. You buy a ticket and get one for your friend just in case, because you have been burned before. Three months ago, you bought another ticket and prepared to be entertained. Instead you were tortured. It was a terrible performance. You left seething. The people putting up the show did not care, they were mediocre at best. Person A, a fellow audience member ranted and raved and was swiftly branded a ‘hater’. When asked for your opinion, you shrugged your shoulders in discomfort and mumbled a few perfunctory words for fear of being called the same. So here you are, drawn once more to the theatre, but you are taking insurance, because misery loves company. What you don’t know is that you are one of the braver ones, there is someone else who stopped going, and after watching person A get branded a hater, merely said, “Kenyan theatre is dead.” It is the easy answer.
It is clear that there is something being expressed, but perhaps the contention is with the quality of that expression. The truth is that we all have our biases shaped by our zeitgeist, and therefore how we view a thing or express it, will never be something we can agree on. What we can agree on however, is quality.
In my opinion, artistic quality lies in the sincerity of expression. In theatre that means the sincerity of expression in writing, in performance, and in the director’s vision. It is that unique element that ensures that I am weeping when I watch Juliet wake to her dead Romeo in Shakespeare’s ‘Romeo and Juliet’, the same way I weep when I watch Zachariah come to the realisation that he cannot have his love in Athol Fugard’s the ‘The Blood Knot’.
Perhaps Kenyan theatre is trying to show us how far we have strayed as a people when it comes to expressing how we feel and who we are. Whenever I have watched a play and cringed, it is because I can see how reluctant the player is to give of themselves, or how the director is so scared that their vision is unworthy, that they mimic what they think to be a more acceptable vision onto the stage. It is when I read the work of a writer who is so afraid of rejection, that they are dishonest.
So yes, the quality of Kenyan theatre is suffering, but not from a lack of artists, or audience – but rather from an abundance of self doubt. What we are cringing about is how much that insincere person reminds us of ourselves, playacting through life rather than being. We need your joy, your sorrow, your humour and your life. We need it, so we too can once again become brave enough to be who we are.
Mkamzee Mwatela is a prolific actor based in Kenya.
She has starred in various productions including Mali and Stay.
