I gotta get this down, don’t think, must tell you, just need a cup of strong coffee, oh shit I hit the plunger hard, gotta rush, need speed, coffee splooshed out all over, light brown, no, mustard, no just skin, Dada Masilo and dancers’ skin, under stars, celestial, but what am I saying, best show ever, best for last, Sunday arvie, South African Sunday, South African, African, South African creativity, don’t stop it, ever, don’t abuse it, let if flow.

I’m drinking and drinking, with the grains, hot and gritty.

Swan Lake, Dada is only 25 years old, you got to see her, to be here, to look into her dance, her dancers her choreography, such grace, such power, so radical. RADICAL!.

So many languages, gestures, symbols.

She’s only 25. You got see her, before you die, before she dies, please don’t die!

Because she is here doing it with her beautiful people, right before my eyes.

No one will do it like this. No one will ever dance like this ever again.

South Africa on a global stage. The final scene, dark, brown, no mustard.

Skin.

Don’t really drink but I’m drunk on it. I well never see dance like this.  Again.

See her,  see yourself.

Gestures  I can’t forget: a hand sprinkling salt, casting ashes, sowing seed, try it yourself, thumb running from pinkie to to pointing finger.

Do it slowly, then again, faster and faster, faster! Get it? Don’t pause, no commas, no full stop, period.

The finger points. Not thick and stubby and belligerent like Die Groot Krokodil, but angled slightly yet still rigid and accusatory. You’ve seen it in so many arguments and rage. Jealousy’s angry emblem.

Grotesque, but it is us. It is South African.

The guts, it all comes out of our guts, our bellies, our boeps, our womb. Entrails and emotions drawn out of us like darems and darems.

The dance, her dance, our dance.

It’s just amaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaazing!

You gotta see it, just gotta,  godu … goddess.

Our godess.

Popularity: 32% [?]

Related posts