Requiem for a Nightmare

But seriously, this is good. Insomuch, it is the first review for BizLounge that I enjoyed whole heartedly. Ten out of ten. Two thumbs up. Gold stars. If I could have my way, I would place this review on a special section, made for it, on this site. This is the most important thing you need to do this weekend. Rewind sadly runs only until tomorrow. Book now, come back, continue reading.

Inspired by The Truth and Reconciliation Commission aka a Greek Drama, a farce, Die Lieg en Bedrieg Kommissie, The Kleenex Commission and the last chapter of an ugly history. Where the story ends. The full stop. We were forgiven and we forgave. We conquered ourselves. The tapes are the oral equivalent of the visual of Hector Peterson dead in Soweto, 1977.

The crowd sat down. The important spectators are here: academics, school kids, apartheid victims, Zapiro, Isidingo stars, the producer of SA FM, me the reviewer. The lights dim. The first tape starts to play. The cellos start dissonantly - not unlike the intro to Jaws. There is a great white on the loose. The singers walk on screen. Singing starts gradually as the string octet introduces symphonic simplicity. The voice on the recording transforms into typographical magic and video on a two storey screen. The build-up begins.

Choir blow out in full oomph

And bang. It explodes. The video fades, and simultaneously the choir is revealed as they blow out in full oomph. Township houses flicker in and out as everyone hits the critical part that makes Desmond and I agree on the same thing.

Fahiem Stellenboom, Baxter's marketing man, apologises to me later for the outburst a few seats from mine. For a certain ex-apartheid casualty it was just too much. Fahiem accompanied him outside. Asked if he'd like to see a counsellor. He declined and opted to sit outside in the garden to cry. "As long as my grandchildren don't see me like this," he said. He remained there until the end.

Could Rewind keep up the quality for another 40 minutes. The balance between music and recording is a slim line. At times it balances more towards the music and sometimes the recording, the latter always the star. Philip occasionally throws in toi toi vibes and a lot of Trip-hop techniques and pop elements by repeating words and saving others for a chorus.

The performances are superb as you would expect from professionals. There is also a distinct lack of showy divas. Jazz star Sibongile Khumalo sings The Testimony of Mrs. Plaaitjies, whose son is murdered, with particular pathos and motherly caring.

Maja Marx's images on screen are simple, occasionally abstract, and artfully apt. Utilising stock animation to fit the raggedy old tapes and with the gliding italicised words, the music. Nothing ever exceeds more than it has to.

These departures from classic tragic opera makes Rewind affable, more proudly South African. This is apartheid story-telling at its best. It's as close as you'll ever get to the tears, and share them. What Philip Miller has done is not just a good opera, he's created a benchmark. Not just for apartheid art, but for art.

Our worst tragedy has never been more beautiful.

Philip Miller's Rewind Cantata for Voice and Tape runs at the Baxter tomorrow night at 8pm