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April 13, 2007
The view from an innocent
Pamela Gien's Syringa Tree is reminiscent of Anne Frank's diary.
BAILA LAZARUS
Watching Caroline Cave act out Pamela Gien's autobiographical play
The Syringa Tree, in the primary role of a young girl, reminded
me of Anne Frank's diary: both are the narrative of an innocent
child (in this case, Cave plays six-year-old Elizabeth Grace), naïve
in her view of the world, bounding in energy and not understanding
why people must hide – or why "Some things are allowed,
and some things are not."
As Frank described how life transformed around her due to the coming
of the war, so Elizabeth describes the goings-on in her life, as
violence due to apartheid in South Africa begins to mount in intensity.
As the play opens, it's 1963, and Elizabeth is swinging in the sole
prop on stage – a wooden plank hanging from thick rope. She
starts out in her squeaky little-girl voice, but soon transforms
into Loeska, her eight-year-old friend next door; Salamina, the
Grace family's 39-year-old maid; Isaac, Elizabeth's Jewish father,
a doctor; Eugenie, her mother; and 19 other characters, including
the gardener, driver, baby brother, minister, police, grandfather
and even a skeleton her father keeps in his office. In all, Cave
brings 24 characters to life on stage, in a combination of voice,
song and dance.
Sometimes she is telling a narrative, referring to characters in
the third person, such as how she describes, with a disconnected
innocence, what happens if the police catch people out after curfew
without proper papers:
"Heee didn't think! He's supposed to be at his home!
If they catch you, without your special paper ... and you don't
have time to climb up into the Syringa tree, under Salamina's bed....
If they catch you, they put you down, on the road ... and
they beat you ... very much," Elizabeth says in her high-pitched
voice.
Later, as Salamina's teenage daughter, Moliseng, during the 1976
Soweto protests, she becomes sombre and powerful: "I stand
with you on this street. This, it's my street. My corner. My country.
This, it's my place. I am in my place. I am part of this
earth, but I will not lie down like mud to disappear. I am the mountain
that rises up to spit in your face! I am Moliseng! I will not walk
down the road of my mother, bow my shoulders, hide my head in shame.
I will stand up ... I stand up! Your bullet cannot kill me...."
The story follows Elizabeth's life, as a little girl, and then into
adulthood; how her family interacts with the hired nannies and other
help, as though they were family, and to what lengths they protect
Salamina and her newborn.
References to "driving out through the electric gate"
and how the nannies are allowed to take scraps of food from the
Graces' meals demonstrate, however, that no matter how close the
two cultures feel, there's a large gap that separates the whites
and blacks.
Slowly, the violence on the streets or in the far-away townships
draws near, until Elizabeth's family itself becomes personally affected,
with her grandfather getting killed. Eventually, Elizabeth grows
up, moves to the United States and starts her own family, returning
years later to reunite with Salamina and mourn Moliseng's death.
The vignettes are composed of little conversations – between
her mother and father; between her mother and the Dutch Reformed
minister; between herself and Salamina. The dexterity with which
Cave jumps back and forth in characters, accents and time is a superb
demonstration of her craft. But, at times, there are so many voices
going back and forth, and the accents are so strong, it's hard to
discern who's supposed to be talking, who they're talking to and
what they're saying.
According to Gien's notes, among the dialects are "a standard
English South African for the Grace family, with Eugenie slightly
more British; various black dialects for Salamina, Iris, Zephyr,
Peter, Dubike, Pietros and Moliseng, particularly Sotho, Xhosa and
Zulu; and a heavy Afrikaans accent for Loeska and the Dominee. Sgt.
Pogieter and the police might be heavier accents, while Matron Lanning
and the doctor might be softer. Father Montford might have a slightly
Irish sound."
Mastering all the voices, and then moving in and out of them so
smoothly, is by no means an easy task, and Cave accomplishes it
well, but, unfortunately, her skill does not ensure that the play
is easy to follow. And, listening to a small child relate a story
for 90 minutes is ... well ... like listening to a small child recite
a story for 90 minutes. High-pitched and jumping from place to place,
it becomes exhausting just to watch at times.
In addition, the writing is peppered with South African terminology
and geographical references that non-South Africans might not understand
at all, and are not irrelevant enough to just be ignored.
Audience members from South Africa will probably have no trouble
understanding the accents and expressions, and will no doubt find
this play very enjoyable. Others will respect the craft, but may
come away feeling there was a lot that got lost without translation.
Baila Lazarus is a freelance writer, photographer and illustrator
living in Vancouver. Her work can be seen at www.orchiddesigns.net.
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