musical

Jus’ me and my piano

THAT ain’t just any piano, Maretha, it’s your history, says Boy Willie (Katlego Chale) to his niece (Kaiyah Newbern), while Lymon (Warren Masemola) looks on, and the piano itself stands proud, in a scene from August Wilson’s The Piano Lesson, onstage at the Nelson Mandela Theatre until 16 March 2025. Photo courtesy The Joburg Theatre.

AN UPRIGHT PIANO in a domestic house is almost an event on its own. It takes up space. It’s physically heavy. But have one in your household and it represents something more, for many people, than the skill of being able to play it. This is the central premise to August Wilson’s chilling play The Piano Lesson, which is given theatrical life at the Nelson Mandela Theatre in Johannesburg, until 16 March 2025.

And on paper this production is a must-see. Featuring some of the best in the business, from its director to its cast and creative crew, it can’t be faulted, but the opening bars of the work make you feel as though everything – even the kitchen sink – is being tossed at your senses. The effect of this: audio-visual, sound, vocal bombardment all at once and ramped up as loud as possible – is horrifying and flies in the face of the subtle and sinister nature to the original play.

Set in 1930s American South, during the Great Depression’s aftermath, where everyone has a bad history of slavery and abuse, the story is a whimsical one which touches on the power of a piano and dodgy histories which saw crimes without perpetrators. It’s also profoundly American South in its dialect, which is not always maintained or comprehensibly used by the cast.

Having said that, the performances of Lerato Mvelase in the role of Berniece and that of Warren Masemola as Lymon, the rather awkward side-kick to Berniece’s brother Boy Willie (Katlego Chale), are among the top reasons for you to see this show. Masemola is all limbs and voice, but he carries the soul of his character, a basic outsider to the unfolding family tale, with conviction and clarity. Mvelase is in top form as a woman with a voice and a sense of injustice that she is not afraid to use. Also, young newcomer Kaiyah Newbern as Berniece’s daughter, Maretha, is someone to watch out for: her role is a tiny cameo in this complex work, but her vocal presence will have you sitting up straight and baying for more. She may be just a teen right now, but her command of the piano and her voice resonate with maturity.

Indeed, the singing aspect of this work is potent. There are some ensemble pieces that are so powerfully articulated that you want to ovate there and then and leave the theatre with a full heart. A song of the railway evoking the men’s history of labour and abuse, is one particular case in point: achingly superb in its articulation and heart.

However, the sum of the parts of this work do not, alas make up the whole. Often the performances become so shouty and so coloured with audio-visual tricks that the focus itself turns muddy and you want to shield yourself from so much literal illustration of the text in projected images, that you want to run out of the theatre. It feels like the flaws in the work weather a ramping up of the sound all the way, to make your teeth clatter against one another. The effect does not sing gladly with the work or its impetus.

And then, there’s the stereotypes. It’s curious to see these deeply American tales being brought to immensely crafted life on stage in contemporary South Africa. They trot out a clear racial narrative, which is softened by overuse. It’s a pity. We have so many of our own stories to tell our audiences, in this country. And this is perhaps where Masemola stands out too. He’s the one performer in this cast who is still recognisably South African, which he achieves without losing the tone of his character.

Either way, this stage production is a strange manifestation of the story, which is also currently available on Netflix. Not to spoil the plot, but the stage adaptation seems to avoid the way in which the original narrative comes to meaningful closure, ticking those boxes of injustice evoked on a beautiful piano and vindicating those who own it. This doesn’t happen at the Nelson Mandela theatre, which makes the story feel like a lot of noise and fancifulness that takes you down rather than raises you up.

The Piano Lesson was written in 1987 by August Wilson. Directed by James Ngcobo with musical direction by Tshepo Mngoma, it is performed by Vaneshran Arumugam, Katlego Chale, Boitumelo Lesejane, Warren Masemola, Lerato Mvelase, Kaiyah Newbern, Thokani Nzima and Pakamisa Zwedala. Featuring creative input by Lulu Mlangeni (choreography); Werner van Lill (audio-visual), Yewande James (accent coach), Noluthando Lobese (set and costumes) and Nthabiseng Nkadimeng (fashion), it is on stage at the Nelson Mandela Theatre, Joburg Theatre complex in Braamfontein, until 16 March 2025.

1 reply »

  1. Thanks, Robyn. This is beautifully expressed. I posted some comments on Facebook and made very similar observations: the sound levels, the overkill – in my case it was the background, atmospheric music – the wonderful musical interludes, and Lerato Mvelase’s strong performance as Berniece.

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