Release…Relentless….Rage…..

[Tuesday, 3rd December 2013.
   Gaborone, Botswana.]



"Drama? What's that supposed to do for your life?"...

Let it all out bro…Let it all out.

…is an not uncommon question, or rather, thinly veiled opinion, that many people think of when it comes to the art of Theatre. And I'm sure it is vexing to hear for those who do it for a living, and even more so for those of us who make a living teaching it. 

Though it's hard to ever think of Drama as something senseless and purposeless once you see Mr. Paya teaching in a classroom, and it's definitely hard to see Theatre as anything but brilliance when you see Tefo Paya acting on stage.

…which he will be doing tonight….tomorrow..… and the day after that.

"How can you fight one who is fit beyond fatigue, one who never sleeps, one who feeds on all your defences?" - Relentless

Tefo Paya,  Maru-a-Pula school's resident theatre nerd, is well known around school for his inability to shed his youth (sadly, his back does not agree with him) and can be seen always passing a joke with both his colleges and his students. 

But there's far more to Mr. Paya than his teaching:

"What I thirst for can only be quenched by the cold moist sensation of liquid fire... flames of searing sound and the multi-coloured flicker of night's spark... Give me the night and all its pleasure then I will sin for you in ways that are beyond redemption." - Release 

 Tefo Paya is also known for putting on quite the Theatre show. Recently he presented a one man show for this year's Maitisong Festivial which was titled Morwa: The Rising Son  which garnered a very impressive review on the news website/blog for Maru-a-Pula School, MaPVoices ("hitting all the right places in its dynamic delivery and brilliant acting,

Morwa is a fantastic show that leaves the audience wanting to see more." wrote Tawanda W.T Mulalu.) 

And tonight…and tomorrow….and the day after tomorrow….. Tefo Paya will be back with a set of not one, but three one man shows, collectively titled Release…Relentless….Rage…..

And it's all happening in Maitisong Theatre.

Yet, I've said enough, let's consider what Mr. Paya himself has to say about the show: 

"[Tonight] it gets RAW!!!!!!!! Tuesday , Wednesday, Thursday…… Risky Artistic Warfare… Do what needs to be done for the ART!!!!!! At the core of every show is an Artistic Activist!!!!!!!!!"

…uhm okay…. though I don't know about you…..

But I can certainly say I'm convinced. 

For more information on the content of the shows and the ticket prices, check out the Facebook group for the shows: Release... Relentless.... Rage.....

"One Performer, One Venue, Three Plays and Three different experiences of Theatre..... welcome to Raw Artist Warfare..... R.A.W….."

Hoping to see all of y'all tonight! (...and tomorrow…. and the day after tomorrow…..)

Yes, in fact, I do have my own copy of this poster.

GUY FAWKES NIGHT (1)

GUY FAWKES NIGHT.

(First impression.)

"I think that absolute truth and statistics are two different things. Statistics for the most part suggests truth but doesn't really always tell it. Hence I'd say that statistics and absolute truth are completely independent of each other."

I never do drink at these parties mother...I really only think about how these lonely solipsistic thoughts are effervescent; like soulless and friendless clouds muttering about other sad lights in the dark, shining sadly in distress and writing things on this phone...People are around him.

And now I eat a slice of pizza, which will of course remind him of you soon- laughing about in your cute little dress while I pretend the night was restless and breathless. He couldn't hear the whispers then. They were drowning in the rhythmic and pounding vibrato of young and don't give a fuck, let's smoke a blunt.

Even the cigarettes and beer bottles were drowning as well; in the incomprehensible bass of my apparently misunderstood generation...He couldn't hear the whispers then. I however am typing now and do. I can see your smile; I can feel your hair, skin, breath, no. He hadn't even wanted to go until he saw you. He hadn't even wanted- I can read my novel now.

Everyone's gone home including me. I am now busy dawdling past midnight and finding words and stories. I obviously have nowhere else to find adventure but in dead and silent screens- why are we asleep? Are we not moved by today and tomorrow? Is no one interested in yesterday?

Though everyone had gone home except him. It didn't take much for him to start thinking. He just needed to be walking or talking. If not talking then simply just not talking- sorry, what did you say? Oh, yes, he does think those last fireworks were rather pretty. Did he mention you are too?

I think that perhaps he is still there, wandering and meandering...looking for places, looking for people.

Have I Mentioned Before That I Can Rap?

Well, have I mentioned before that I can rap?

***

Opus. 1
Bruno Smet, Tawanda W.T Mulalu, Roger Waters.


I.

('Is There Anybody Out There?')

Individuality of heartbroken causality
The chest muscle ripped out in bloody fatality
Existence a game that can't even channel my
Code, my blueprints, not part of the lie
Tossed to the other side of the equation
I; the variable to be eliminating
Aware of complexities in calculating
The difficulty in the truth that I am stating
A heaven that aspires and desires to possess
The soul and the mind of my intellect
That speaketh beyond the mundane dialect
To the core of the issue through the soft tissue
But locked up, choked up, pretending not to hurt too
Still, on goes tomorrow like a visual reel
Feast for the eyes, leaving out lies and real
I am a closed system with ethereal addiction
To the stars of the universe and beauty of fiction
But contrast in reality, burden of my entropy
Fissures in my mind reveal that I am faulty


II.

('Swinging Sadness' [Trance])

Distant dreams where I can't find
My ambition and my peace of mind
Aimless wonderings through reality
And lost in words and numbers concurrently

(x2)

III.

('Is There Anybody Out There?' cont.)

Ignoring the need in our precious little moments
For cold, hard logic and all of its importance
The Burden of proof long cast out the window
And result in tumult with its reverbrating flow
Endless, soulless ignorance results of that
And countless, amountless, verbose combat
Our centers struggle to keep rhythm to the score
Therefore, henceforth Muzak played ever more
Sad black credits rolling quickly down the screen
Lack of medics showing swiftly crowns our dreams
To the dirt, and of course your heart hurts
Back to the floor, as your pathetic pressure soars
Everyone has answers but you know they aren't sure
Resolving the problem simply by believing
We find instead the opposite unearthing
The dirt that once covered our lowliness
Has drifted apart, revealing loneliness
The burden of proof- brought back to light
We can now only set our own souls alight


We're dying as we're burning
And we're trying as we're yearning
And we're crying as we're hurting
And I'm sighing as I'm learning.



***


Copyright to Pink Floyd for the song 'Is There Anybody Out There?' from 'The Wall.' 
Credits to Bruno Smet constructing the 'Swinging Sadness' bridge with his awesome guitar.
Oh,
 I wrote the lyrics.

Of course I'm not moody!