Impilo Mapantsula – Or How to Jump from a Moving Train

Impilo Mapantsula – or how to jump from a moving train. Recording the first hand history of South Africa’s dominant sub-culture and contemporary dance form.

Dr Daniela Goeller DOI: 10.13140/RG.2.1.2592.6643

Abstract

Pantsula is the main and most constant South African sub-culture, originating in the 1970s in townships and representing the identity of several generations of its black population. Incorporating political consciousness, life-style, language, dress-code, music and dance, the dance alone is practiced as an art form today, alongside other street-dances. The contribution is an introduction to this sub-culture, its historical development and contemporary situation, and argues that, given its visual and narrative structure, pantsula-dance is in itself a document – reflecting South Africa's history and the cultural identity of its population, a living legacy of the past five decades and the country's way from Apartheid to democracy.

Dance as document

A young man is walking around in the audience, selling sweats from a wooden crate he carries. He is wearing a pair of beige Dickies trousers and a long-sleeve DMD shirt with geometric patterns. His head is covered by a red cotton hat with a black pompon and he is wearing a pair of white Converse All Stars sneakers.1 Conversations are engaged, people start calling him, bargaining and negotiating over the sweats, jokes and laughter fill the air. We are in 2013 in a theatre in Paris and the South African dance company Real Actions Pantsula from Orange Farm, a township in the south of Johannesburg, is about to perform a full evening show called “Days of our Lives”. As the show starts, the stage is dark and we hear the characteristic sound of a train passing on the rails, hitting the sleepers: Pata-tata, pata-tata... The train is nearing; as it stops, the doors are opening. A group of dancers, all dressed in a different style, but all wearing white Converse All Stars sneakers, gather on stage and get on the train. As the train is departing, the young man comes running by with his crate. Two dancers block the doors and look out for him, calling and shouting. He is adjusting his steps, jumping on and off the train. He finally gets on board, the others let go off the doors and close them. The young man continues to sell his sweats, passing through the train. The dancers start taking over the sound of the moving train and adjust it to a single step, tapping the ground with their feet and clapping their hands. Moving on with the accelerating rhythm, they come together in a formation. On the up-beat rhythm of a house-music track, they perform a short routine. Their movements are strong, their feet are fast, the lining is precise and the group is perfectly synchronised. The sound of the train is coming back, overlaying the music and replacing it, the

1 Clothing is a highly significant element in Pantsula-culture. The main brands worn are of American or Italian origin. The cotton hat with the pompon is called topi or Navarro. Converse All Star Sneakers are the trademark of Pantsula- fashion since the 1970s, Dickies is the largest American workwear brand, and DMD is a supposedly Italian label, created by the South African company Linea Italiana (see also: Pantsula our culture). group breaks up. When the train stops again, we hear a voice: “Welcome to Johannesburg Park Station. Platform number 1 the train to Pretoria is ready to depart...” The dancers spread, some greeting each other, saying goodbye, before they leave the stage.

Throughout the show, a narrator takes the audience on a journey through the reality of people's life in the townships and the dancers translate these historical and contemporary situations in a seemingly unbridled but strictly encoded flow of virtuoso movements, full of creativity and joy. Pantsula-dance is a narrative and highly contextualised dance, it is a truly mesmerising form of story-telling – entertaining and moving in the same time. The dance is itself a document – reflecting South Africa's history and the cultural identity of the majority of its population, the living legacy of the past five decades and the country's journey from Apartheid to democracy.

Pantsula-dance is highly illustrative, it is an expression of black identity in the townships through movement, dress and music. Pantsula (literally: to waddle like a duck, or to walk with protruded buttocks) appears to be a flat footed tap-and-slide style of dance. Pantsula-dance pays a major reference to tap-dance and has integrated all kinds of sometimes seemingly contradictory influences. It incorporates elements of traditional South African dances, especially miming and pace, and combines them with a vocabulary of movements derived from modern urban dances, also of African American origin, alongside clownerie, contorsion, acrobatics and magic tricks. Influenced by Marabi and the South African Jazz culture of the 1920s and partly inspired by a couple dance from the 1940s and 1950s, called Kofifi or Sophiatown (after the famous area in Johannesburg), pantsula is a direct offspring from a soloist dance form of the 1960s called Monkey- Jive, that shows almost the same characteristics than pantsula.2 Whereas Kofifi or Sophiatown is still danced today by the young generation and part of the repertory of the community dance groups, only some of the older people are still able to dance the Monkey-Jive, such as musicians Vusi Shange and Ray Phiri, the founder of the South African afro-fusion band Stimela.

The main inspiration for the creation of the pantsula movements comes from the street: scenes of everyday life are translated into dance and most of the movements depict ordinary, everyday gestures that refer to a specific situation. Some of them are universal and easily recognisable, others are more specific to the South African context and the reality of life in the townships and therefore more difficult to decode for an outsider. There is not one way of defining pantsula as much as there is not one way of dancing pantsula. The story of pantsula is as manifold as the people who are identifying themselves with this culture. Documenting this culture necessarily means to record the stories – as they are told by the people, shown in the dance and expressed in their lifestyle – and revealing the unifying components within these stories. There are a couple of basic or “classic” dance steps, that can be identified with a trained eye, although their interpretation might vary considerably from individual to individual, from group to group and from township to township. These steps will always appear in a specific scene – the dancers call it “situation” – or serve to evoke a specific context. The first scene of Real Actions Pantsula’s show “Days of our Live” as described above, is such a “situation”, moreover it is the key-situation to understand the dynamic as well as the historical and narrative structure of pantsula-dance.

Dancing pantsula may be likened to taking a train. The basic step to get on board the train is called

2 Concerning the influence of American Jazz culture in South Africa see Ballantine 1993 and Nixon 1994. S'Parapara and it is a 4 part sequence of steps. In order to execute it, one has to get off the ground (1) and literally jump into the step. One then hits the ground with one foot (2) and then twice consecutively with the second foot (3-4). Not only is the name of the step – S'Parapara – an onomatopoeia, but the step itself is also an onomatopoeia: when done repeatedly, the sound of the feet hitting the ground recalls the sound of a moving train. S'Parapara is the one main and basic step of pantsula. “There is no pantsula without S'Parapara”, says Sello Modiga, director of the company Real Actions Pantsula and choreographer of their show.3 S'Parapara is the step that will get you started. “When there is S'Parapara, there is always a style after ...” adds one of the dancers. It is very significant that you have to jump into the dance in a way – you take a big leap and then you move on, with the train.

In contemporary South Africa, space, mobility and transport remain key-issues in a country that, during the course of history, has seen almost its entire population forcibly deported from one place to another, although in very different circumstances and for very different reasons. The train has a long history in South Africa. Coming from the rural areas and the neighbouring countries, mainly Mozambique and Zimbabwe, people used to get on the trains to come to the cities, particularly Johannesburg, to find work and go back home to see their families. Coming from the townships, people used to get on the train to go to the city of Johannesburg for work early in the morning and come back late in the evening. The trains used to be common meeting places and sites of interchange and therefore represented more than just a means of transportation.4 The title of an old and famous song about the train, “Shosholoza”, is still written on some of the carriages. This Ndebele folk song, originally from Zimbabwe, is a song of hope and solidarity that has somehow

3 Given the crucial lack of written sources and documentation on pantsula-culture and -dance, the information that I am providing has, in the main, been taken from personal encounters with people who identify themselves as being pantsulas. I rely almost exclusively on primary research. My research is action based and is located within the field of Cultural Studies. My knowledge of pantsula-culture and -dance is based on a number of individuals that I have known for several years and with whom I have established close working and personal relationships (cf. Impilo Mapantsula).

4 cf. Santu Mofokeng (1986) In a series of black-and-white photographs, Mofokeng captured a very singular church service, taking place in a train from Soweto to Johannesburg: “Soweto trains are not known for their safety. A train journey is undertaken with a mixture of determination and dread. Never mind the discomfort of the jostling, the pickpockets and the crush in a crowded train coach. Add to this, irregular train schedules, the railway police who are not there to serve or to protect you. This anxiety coming seamlessly with daily worries associated with the immediate ride where it blends in with other unpleasant memories of train disasters, gang warfare and general hooliganism in a politically unstable climate and a country trawling through a second state of emergency. Train church as a social phenomenon appealed to me for several reasons. It captures two of the most significant features of South African life: the experience of commuting and the pervasiveness of spirituality. The system of commuting to work did not evolve naturally for the black majority. It was enforced through removals, resettlements and geographical zoning. Its progeny begins in the migrant labour system.” (Santu Mofokeng, Train Church, quoted in: cargocollective.com) become the second South African anthem and is ingrained in the history of the migrant workers.5 On board the trains, besides the travellers and everyday commuters, there were also the so-called Smokesas, young boys who would go through the train, selling apples or sweats from the wooden crates they carried. Vusi Shange – a famous musician of the 1960s and 1970s – recalls the times when he used to travel go on the train with his crate to sell apples. “Have you ever tried to jump from a moving train?” he asks. “Yes? Well, then you know that you can't simply jump with your two feet, else you fall. You need to compensate between the speed on one side and the standstill on the other side. That's S'Parapara.” And when he demonstrates how he used to place his crate, jump on the wagon, get through the flapping doors, we are taken back to the first scene of “Days of our Lives” and the rhythm and the sound arises again: Pata-tata... “S'Parapara”, says Vusi Shange, “is a vital step, it helped to jump on and off the train while it was moving and from one wagon to the next.” Furthermore, S'Parapara is the step that will keep you in the rhythm and serve as a link between different movements in Pantsula-dance – or, in Sello Modiga's words: “S'Parapara is the connector” - it literally keeps the dance together. The dancer and choreographer Vusi Mdoyi, co- director of the company Via Katlehong, was, significantly enough, born on a train. When his mother gave birth to him, she was in a train on the way from the Eastern Cape, where her family stayed, to Johannesburg. For him, as for many other dancers too, pantsula is his life, his identity6: “Pantsula is a signature” he says, “it is unconscious, like a reflex. Think of a cat that jumps down a wall and amortises the shock in its body, in its bones, moving on, without breaking anything – that's what it is all about.” Pantsula-dance is about being smart, it engages wit, speed, skill-fullness and the power of suggestion. Pantsula is more than a dance, it is a lifestyle and reflects a specific mindset, an attitude – and as such it represents the spirit of survival against all odds, the belief in always finding ways to move on.

Pantsula used to be (and partly still is) danced in the streets, accompanied only by the sound of the tapping of the feet, whistling and shouting. Whistling was (and is) used as a very sophisticated means of communication and identification, that also helped to escape from the police in the days of Apartheid. The stockfells, taverns, or she-beens were the only places with music to accompany the dance. It is still practiced in these places in the townships today, especially on Saturday nights. A crowd surrounds the dancers, and as they perform one after the other, people encourage them, shouting and whistling, and throw money into the circle. Pantsula is a competitive dance. It is basically about who dresses the most originally and performs the most inventive dance steps. It is almost exclusively practiced in dance competitions. Pantsula originally is a soloist dance and the

5 Shoholoza means to move fast and the lyrics of the song read as follows: Shosholoza (move fast) Ku lezontaba (over these mountains) Stimela siphume South Africa (a train from South Africa) Wen' uyabaleka (you are running away) Ku lezontaba (over these mountains) Stimela siphume South Africa (train from South Africa). Concerning the migration to the cities, see for example Louw 2004.

6 "Pantsula our culture! Pantsula our choice! Pantsula our life! Pantsula our future! Pantsula for life!" is a famous slogan that one would hear at almost every occasion. solo, called Fucuza, which highlighted an individual's own creativity and ability, remains a significant element of the dance. Nevertheless, the dancers have always also formed dance groups and performed group choreographies, called routines. Today, both forms co-exist, but pantsula is about individuality; and individual and local styles are very important, up to the point where a dancer can spot another dancer's origins by simply observing the way in which he walks. Each individual or group creates its own outfit and its own style, the signature - reflected in the so called signature pose and the signature move. Some of the groups compose new outfits for every season or every new piece they create. These pieces are generally like short-stories, they last between 5 and 15 min and are generally structured around one “situation”. Only a few groups have undertaken to create shows of one hour or more, dedicated to theatre, like Real Actions Pantsula. These shows are often made of different situations, linked by a narrator and the journey of one main character, as in the case of “Days of our Lives”. There is a complete lack of notation for pantsula. The dancers themselves don't write anything down, there is no notation system, neither for the movements, nor for the choreography. "When I dance a choreography several times", says Vusi Mdoyi, "the movements shall enter in my veins, my brain, my heart. If I hear the music, my body, soul and mind refer to these movements, that are, I would say 'spiritually' recorded within me. If I don't practice a choreography for a long time, small losses or changes may occur, but it is difficult to completely forget a choreography. It ultimately belongs to the realm of spirituality." The term ‘"spirituality’" might occur surprising here, but it refers back to the context of oral tradition and transmission of knowledge. The dancers learn from each other in order to and perfection their skills. The connection to the spiritual world remains very strong, even in everyday life. Although they live in contemporary times, the beliefs and traditions of their ancestors are present and continue to inform their ways of relating to each other and to the world. This is reflected by the way they believe in and are committed to their art and how they practice it. Before they start performing, the dancers will gather on or off stage, where they sometimes sing and dance in a circle and greet each other. Obviously, the audience, especially outside South Africa, can see and sense the spirituality on stage, but as they cannot design it, they would generally use the term ‘"energy’", which is something the dancers, in return, cannot relate to. The same issue arises for many other dances, especially dances originating in a ritual or religious context. Pantsula is not a traditional dance, although it incorporates elements of indigenous dances and is often designated as a traditional dance by the dancers themselves. While it follows the same schema as some traditional dances, it's points of reference are hybrid and multi-layered.7 Like with many other sub-cultures, pantsula's parentage is complex, sometimes contradictory, not only in regard to the movements, but also when it comes to elements of dress and music and its socio- political direction.8 7 Concerning the relation of tradition and modernity see Rani 2008.

8 Emile YX? correctly states that township dances are often considered as bastardisations of the “pure” Eurocentric and cultural African art forms, resistant to change: “To ‘OVERstand’ this development, we have to look at how people migrate or are forced into different environments. With slavery, immigration and the ongoing movement of people, various dance styles and music fuse. Irrespective of the process, it is inevitable that artists are inspired by everything that they come into contact with.” As a result of multiple influences, what is institutionalised as “Hight Art” is often “replaced by a hybrid version of that art form. It is only when we research the origins of these new dance styles that we see the innovation and revolutionary mentality of its creators.” (Emile YX? 2008: 12). Pantsula our culture

Pantsula became a predominant sub-culture in South Africa in the 1970s9. It incorporates language, dress-code, music and dance. The roots of pantsula go back to the 1950s and the development of pantsula is intrinsically linked to the socio-political context of Apartheid. Following the forced removals of the black population from the city centre to “locations” outside the cities, a vital cultural life emerged in the townships and helped to maintain a social life within a population that was largely deprived of its basic human rights as citizens. The townships saw the development of a micro-society with its own unwritten laws and a unifying solidarity against the oppressor. Cultural practices, were it expressions of traditional culture or more contemporary manifestations, such as pantsula, played an important role in holding the community together by providing a form of cultural, social and political autonomy that ultimately shaped the identity of generations of black people in the townships. “Black nationalists have combined political, spiritual, and cultural leadership, and recognised the importance of this aspect of black identity.”10 In this sense, pantsula and all cultural activities, are to be considered as being political.

Under Apartheid, pantsula-dance was used to convey political messages against the system through miming scenes of everyday life, including racial violence, prosecution, harassment, humiliating treatment and the bad working and social conditions.11 Being an artist and going to a performance was sometimes used as an argument to side-step the pass-laws and other restrictions concerning freedom of movement and gathering, as well as to overcome roadblocks set up by the police, when the reason for going to a certain place was not primarily, or not only to attend a performance, but

9 The exact origin of pantsula is impossible to determine, both culturally (see above) and geographically. Some indicate it originated from Pretoria, others say it started in Alexandra, the oldest township of Johannesburg, some assume it came from the Eastrand (Katlehong, Vosloorus, Thokoza) and others locate its origins in Soweto. It is likely that pantsula culture spread rapidly and emerged simultaneously in different places and it is a fact that each of the locations has developed a distinctive and recognisable style of the dance, dress and language.

10 See Coplan 2007: 2

11 See Myburgh 1993: 3 rather a political gathering. The Stockfells were places where the dancers would meet and also the political parties would recruit their members. “There was no way of running away from politics as a black person and as a person in the townships. Community events were good platforms and it was always a question of entertainment and consciousness in the same time.” says Sicelo Xaba, director of the company Red For Danger from Mohlakeng, a township in the West of Johannesburg. Consequently, pantsula is simultaneously politicised and non-politicised.

The 1970s in South Africa were a decade of important political uprisings in the townships. These movements were carried by a generation whose parents had been removed and that grew up in the new context of the townships. It was that second generation and the following ones, who started to actively question and redefine their situation. Pantsula became a major expression of this new black identity, a visible sign of their otherness and as such, an active form of resistance.12 The dynamic that inspires the creation of pantsula-dance groups appears to be rooted in the existence of both cultural groups and street gangs. Inspired by their leaders, most of Amapantsula were politically and socially active. Pantsula-dance groups were (and are) governed by the strict respect of discipline, especially regarding time (punctuality and commitment), costume (neatness and cleanness) and exercising. Attendance of rehearsals and shows was (and is) crucial and since in the competition only the best counts, regular training and reliability comes first. Structure and discipline were the main weapons used to fight gangsterism and are still used to keep the youth off the streets. Participation in the sub-culture offers the youth an opportunity to engage in a meaningful and rewarding activity, for the price of serious commitment – the message being “dance and be creative” rather than wasting your life.

There is a permanent current of political, social and artistic elements in pantsula-culture, whereas the dance form alone is considered as an art form today and the aim of the struggle has shifted from political consciousness to escape of poverty.13 In the same way as the American hip-hop generation, growing up after the Civil Rights and Black Power Movements in the United States, Amapantsula today experience a crucial disappointment, following a period of initial promise and profound change at the end of Apartheid. This disappointment is also partially due to a phenomenon that Williams describes as “laissez-faire exclusion”14 and that Hill Collins terms “colourblind racism” 12 See Dick Hebdige's analysis of black youth culture (Reggae) in England: Hebdige 1979: 40

13 Many of the dancers interviewed by Collin Vincent Myburgh name financial interest as a motivation to dance (see Myburgh 1993 and Rani 2008: 129).

14 “The stock story of colourblindness is that the only motive of the civil rights movement was to free individual black people from state-sponsored discrimination. This depiction of the civil rights movement put assimilation (an option available primary to middle- and upper-class blacks) as the engine that drove the civil rights movement. After formal, state-sanctioned barriers to individual mobility are removed, any continuing inequality must result from the personal failure of individuals or, in its modern reiteration, the dysfunction of black culture.” (Guinier / Torres 2002: 35 quoted in: Hill Collins 2006: 6) (2006, 6). The numerous contradictions that arose from this phenomenon in post-apartheid South Africa are certainly worthy of discussion, as are the parallels between pantsula and hip-hop, particularly on the background of the undeniably strong influence of black African American culture on black South African culture – especially in the fields of fashion and music. The main difference between hip-hop and pantsula is that the former appeared after the civil rights and black power movement, whereas the latter carried the struggle and remained as a living legacy for the next generations.

From the 1940s and prior to this, African American Jazz music was popular in South Africa and it appealed to black and white audiences alike, creating one of the few spaces for cross-racial encounters even during Apartheid. Throughout the 1950s, the American style of dress, as seen on record covers and in movies, became the ultimate standard of elegance for the black South African youth. Pantsula is emerging as a culture in the 1970s in the townships of South Africa, in parallel to hip-hop culture in the United States, and is often referred to as ‘African hip-hop’, although there seems to be no direct influence of hip-hop music or dance styles such as b-boying or breaking 15. Hip-hop only became popular in South Africa in the early 1980s, and more especially in Cape Town, whereas pantsula was more popular in Johannesburg and Pretoria. Nevertheless, similarities with hip-hop and the Black Pride movement can be found in pantsula as a lifestyle and a culture with a significant social background and incorporating elements of dress, music, dance and language, together with the formation of a strong identity and a certain political consciousness. In the early 1980s, alongside hip-hop, American house music came to South Africa and had a huge impact on the local music scene, up to making South Africa the country of house in the 1990s. Until today, house music is still the most frequently used music to accompany pantsula-dance. The fast and up-beat sound of the South African house, with its characteristic beat, suits the dance particularly well, but transformed it considerably in regard to the tempo. Although pantsula-dance can be accompanied by house music, there is no obvious influence of house dance in the pantsula movements; on the contrary, when compared to the fluid house dance, pantsula seems to be rigid and contained. However, in the late 1990s and early 2000s, a new dance form called Sbhujwa (from French: bourgeois) emerged. Sbhujwa derives from pantsula. Sbhujwa combines fast footwork with undulating movements of the torso and the hips, inspired by Kwasa-Kwasa. Floor work and postures such as those used in house dance, especially Afro House, b-boying or breaking, are also added.

Dress-codes play a critical an essential role within all sub-cultures in relation to shaping a specific identity and making strong recognisable visual statements. “You get respect for what you wear, how you talk, how you walk” resumes Sicelo Xaba. Dress-codes are often heterogenous, deliberately

15 The parallel between hip-hop and pantsula is more prominent in the music than in the dance, especially in regard to Kwaito, a South-African rap music, that was extremely popular in the 1980s and 1990s and is often associated with pantsula. The stage name of rapper and MC Jabulani Tsambo, alias Jabba, from Mafikeng, a township in the North- West of Johannesburg is HHP for: Hip Hop Pantsula. eclectic and seemingly arbitrary. The pantsula dress-code is dominated in the early years by the so- called ‘American style’, mainly derived from American movies and Jazz record covers. An outfit would comprise hats, suits, shirts, ties, pleat-front trousers, and two-tone or simple leather shoes, sometimes combined with dusk-coats. The labels worn by Amapantsula are American, Italian or British imports, including Pringle, Florsheim, Brentwood, and Saxone. e.g. There is also a more casual style, with knit pullovers and vests and checked flannel shirts. The American fashion shown off by Amapantsula led to an association of pantsula culture and gangsterism. Johannesburg's reputation as a city of violence and crime is not a recent phenomenon. Since the 1950s, gang-culture and crime have been ongoing issues in the City of Gold. These issues have been problematised and discussed in the media. The 1950s saw important gang fights, carried by illustrious groups, who dressed in specific styles. One of the most notorious groups amongst them were the Americans – named after their American dress style.16 The women, later called Mshozas17, mostly dressed in the same labels as their male counterparts, wearing berets, blouses, checked or plain skirts over knee length, tights held by suspenders, and semi-heeled leather shoes, sometimes combined with short waist-tailored jackets, and occasionally held by a belt. When forming a pantsula dance group, dress was a major issue and it had to serve as a unifying, recognisable element. All the members of the group are usually dressed the same, sometimes they are split into several smaller groups but generally, when they are dancing a “routine” together, they would wear the same clothes or at least have one unifying element in their clothing. Furthermore, the classic clothes of the older generation were expensive and out of reach for most of the youth. This explains the use of school uniforms as costumes for performances and partly also the use of working clothes. But working clothes would also be used in specific scenes and thus related to the context. Dickie's trousers and various working overalls and dungerees have been and still are common stage costumes. Workwear includes the “kitchen-suit” – a short sleeved overall with short legs and a belt, decorated with double stripes at the sleeves, legs and on the belt. The kitchen-suit is a notorious relic from Apartheid times. It is no longer worn for work, but is still worn by pantsula dancers, in a slightly modified and more adapted cut and in a wide array of colours. The dancers generally wear them without binding the belt so that the loose ends hang down from their backs like the tail of a smoking. These overalls are now fabricated by South African labels, such as Alaska and City Outfitters. Today, alongside these different clothing styles, dancers wear clothes designed for them by local fashion designers, some of which have created their own brands and are well known, and combine them with contemporary

16 The relation of pantsula-culture and gangsterism is a major and very complex issue, that needs far more explanation than what can be provided here. This easy and seductive shortcut covers up a series of very complex socio-political factors and needs a far broader discussion that I will engage later on in a separate text, where I will provide further insight on this highly controversial topic and how the gangster-image defines black masculinity. cf. Haupt 2012: 153.

17 Although pantsula is a culture dominated by carried mainly by men, women have always played a their role in it, albeit in a less visible way, and on different levels. I will address the story of the Mshozas, questions of gender and gender roles within pantsula-culture in a separate article. See also note 9. sports clothes by international and – again – American labels. Hats are still important, but the Stetson's and Borsalino's have been replaced by small hats made of cotton cloth, like the so-called spoti – which has become a major trademark for pantsulas – or its larger version, the ‘pot-head’, inherited from the 1920s Harlem fashion. The dancers also wear woollen bonnets with pompons and nowadays, even baseball caps are worn. The expensive leather shoes have largely been replaced by more affordable sports shoes and sneakers, especially from the label Converse All Stars, which have become the second unmistakable trademark of Amapantsula. Another reminiscent of American fashion of the 1920s, All Stars, first produced in the United States in 1917, were only distributed in South Africa in the 1970s, and immediately became the most significant and commonly worn item in the Amapantsula’s wardrobe. They were even customised using home- made irons, and transformed into tap-dance-shoes, when some dancers started to mix classic tap- dance-moves with pantsula, creating a successful but short-lived dance style, which became known as Tapsula.18

Imagination as social practice19

A common trait of sub-cultures is that they are based on fashion, music and performative elements. They have adopted one of the main concepts of fashion, which is ‘image-making’ – a term that I borrow from Anne Hollander.20 Images, in both understandings of the word – as ‘looks’ and 18 Mixing tap-dance and Pantsula is an obvious idea that everybody could have and therefore it’s origins are contested. There was an early collaboration of the late Jacky Simela with the company Via Katelhong for the creation of a piece performed in the Dance Umbrella festival in 2000 that leaded to what was then called Tap-Pantsula. In 2004, Tapsula became widely known through a dance-musical-show of the same name, created and choreographed by Cinda Eatock and performed at the Market Theatre in Johannesburg, with additional choreography by Lesley More (Alaska) and music by Eugene Mthethwa (Trompies). Following the success of the show, Tapsula has been taken up by a number of Pantsula dancers and is still occasionally performed today by some of the groups.

19 Imagination as social practice is a term used by Arjun Appadurai to describe how imagination has shifted from the realm of fantasy into the field of social and political agency: “The image, the imagined, the imaginary – these are all terms that direct us to something critical and new in global cultural processes: the imagination as a social practice. (…) the imagination has become an organised field of social practices, a form of work (in the sense of both labor and culturally organized practice), and a form of negotiation between sites of agency (individuals) and globally defined fields of possibility. This unleashing of the imagination links the play of pastiche (in some settings) to the terror and coercion of states and their competitors. The imagination is now central to all forms of agency, is itself a social fact, and is the key component of the new global order.” (Appadurai 1996: 31)

20 Desirable form in fashion is shown and told in pictures. Repeated pictures keep images present in the eye, desirable, ready for associative significance, and prone to instant imitation Followed by swift modification, subversion, replacement and eventual rediscovery. The modern clothed body is a complete figural image, cinematic or televisionary in its impact. This is a currency not just of images but of the mode of making them - 'realistic', fictional, bound to a dramatic human narrative that is never finished, a modern serial tale.” (Hollander 1994: 27) ‘appearances’ and as actual pictures – are used to create open narratives, a form of second life, that can be both, suggestive and addictive; sub-cultures are ways of self-imagining. Dick Hebdige (1979) points out that sub-cultures are necessary forms of resistance and revolution, as they challenge and question the rules in place in different levels of society. Furthermore, he points out that post-war (and consequently post-colonial) sub-cultures are spaces of agency for negotiating relations of race – black and white – and, to a lesser degree, gender. In this context and against on the backdrop of post-colonialism and globalisation, imagination is better read as an intersection in the political, social, and artistic fields, rather than as mere fantasy, and is better be considered as an activity or social practice, rather than a form of escape. What John Peffer’s observations when looking at family pictures in the townships are also applicable in many regards to pantsula. People would have their portraits taken and collected these images as alternative and autonomous representations of themselves, in contrast to official images of crime, miserable living conditions and the violence of the struggle.21 Equally, the vibrant cultural life in the townships was a way of imagining and preserving a positivity in life. Pantsula is a style and a cultural identity, and as such, it created a space for social and political agency, or as Neo Ntsoma once put it: “Style is not all about dress sense. It is about cultural identity and expression. It can be even a way of resisting oppression.” The streets of the townships were the stage where the fears and joys of everyday life were transformed into a creative and inventive lifestyle, and used to express the spirit of survival and brotherhood.22 The youth found their pride in competitions where elegance and originality of dress was combined with strictly encoded and virtuoso dance-movements. Pantsula-dance itself is a historical document of township life. It is narrative in the way it tells stories and depicts scenes of everyday life. Thus, it does not merely imitate life. Elements of daily life serve as inspiration, they are appropriated by the dancers and transformed in the dance. The movements are based on realistic movements; they are mimetic and often exaggerated so as to appear comic. Mimicry is employed in the same way. By adding elements of surprise and suspense into the dance, as well as speed and virtuosity, the dancers create a certain magic. The props that are commonly used by the dancers illustrate this transformation: for instance, brooms, walking sticks, empty beer-crates and chairs are

21 Portrait photography was extremely popular amongst the black community and particularly in the townships. “They (portrait pictures) represent a kind of (…) self-imagining (…) They are evidence of how the people lived and enjoyed life despite the segregation and violence that surrounded them. Most people did not collect images of street protests and violence, but they did have pictures of themselves made for their own pleasure, often imagining a wholeness to everyday life that was full of imagination and positivity. They pictured what they wanted in ways that were not always limited by what they were given.” (Peffer 2013: n.p.)

22 See also Myburgh 1993: 1 and Rani 2008: 124 found objects that are used in the dance in ways that are not related to their everyday functions. A broom is used to wipe the floor, but the dancers swirl it around, jump over it and perform all kinds of tricks with it, and suddenly, the broom becomes a rifle, a walking stick, a microphone or is used as a stick to carry a bundle. There are no limits to creativity in the dance and the dancers change within seconds from one context to another. Looking at how stories are expressed and acted out in the dance and the way documentary and imaginative elements are combined, reveals the true power of this kind of alternative storyline.

Impilo Mapantsula

When people speak about pantsula today, they are referring primarily to it as a dance form. Pantsula has become a performing art, alongside with other street dances, and pantsula-dance groups perform in festivals and theatres around the world. In South Africa, they work for the music and advertising industries, appearing in music videos and publicity clips. Dancers occasionally run workshops in schools or prisons and are called in as judges on national or private television shows and dance contests, organised by the government or private brands. Some manage to live fully or partly off their art, but most of them are still working in other businesses aside to have some consistency in their lives. A huge gap separates a couple of established, professional and well known groups, such as Thembisa Revolution, Via Volcano, Real Actions Pantsula, Shakers and Movers and Via Katlehong, for example, who are all touring internationally, more especially in Europe, from the young and upcoming groups, who are sometimes not even registered as companies and lack not only of infrastructure and financial means, but also of professional training and facilities. Some struggle to find space and alternatively use the streets, abandoned buildings or garages as rehearsal spaces. There is little support for cultural activities such as pantsula-dance in the different municipalities. In the township of Bekkersdaal, in the west of Johannesburg, the town-hall has been destroyed in the course of protests against the municipality, ultimately leaving the dancers and the youth without a space to practice. According to the pantsula-dance company Via Bekkersdaal, nothing has been done to accommodate the youth and hear their claims and support them in carrying out meaningful activities. In the township of Simunye in the west of Johannesburg, a pantsula-dance group has created a joint-venture with a local business man who runs a car wash, in order to provide them a certain sustainability. The government and the National Lottery, as well as some other institutions, such as banks and private foundations provide funding, but these possibilities are only open to registered companies as they all require company records, financial audits and tax clearance certificates.

The younger generation of dancers is interested more in the dance and less in the pantsula life style. They know little about the history of the dance, but they know that there is a possibility of making a career in the arts. They aim to becoming professional dancers, and to perform overseas – following the example of the established companies and dancers, who are their role models. The pantsula- dance sector is divided and underdeveloped. Most of the companies lack information, administration skills, professional training, facilities, infrastructure and are isolated due to financial problems, translating into permanent challenges for communication (cellphone airtime), transport and ultimately regular training. Impilo Mapantsula was founded by Vusi Mdoyi, Sello Modiga, Joshua Mokoena (dancer/choreographer, director of Ezomdabu Young Entertainers from the township of Vosloorus in the east of Johannesburg), Sicelo Xaba. Impilo Mapantsula is a registered company and meant to become a collective structure which represents all Amapantsula. The company’s aim is to develop a solid network for Amapantsula in South Africa, increase the exposure of the dance, act as an agency and improve the local working conditions, strengthen international connections, and in so doing, help the dancers and companies to further develop and professionalise their art. Impilo Mapantsula goes back to an initiative that arose at the Dlala Mapantsula Festival in 2010, and was called the “Pantsula Collabo”, but never put into practice. The Dlala Mapantsula Festival 2014 was hosted and co-produced by the Soweto Theatre. With 46 participating groups and 20 soloists in the competition, the third edition was the largest since the creation of the festival.

There is an historical lack of documentation on pantsula in museums and other institutional archives. Articles in newspapers and magazines have been published, some documentary and fictional films as well as a number of television series have been produced, and there is recent photographic documentation of Pantsula-dance.23 However, there seems to be little, if any, material that contextualises this culture under a historical perspective, relating it’s tradition to the broader context of the global and South African entertainment industry. The urge for documenting this culture is clearly expressed by the dancers themselves. They feel the need to record the history of their art in order to educate their audiences and the upcoming generation of dancers. They want to tell their unique story and reveal the true spirit of Pantsula-culture and, in so doing, develop their art further and increase its value and visibility to both, South African and international audiences.

23 In 1993, the Johannesburg Dance Foundation published Collin Vincent Myburgh’s study “Pantsula dance: case studies on the origins and makings of a township art form”. It was followed by Georges Samuel’s “Shifts in pantsula in a performance context in KwaZulu-Natal: a case study of Pearl Indaba’s Golden dancers between 1998-2001, published in Footsteps Across the Landscape of Dance in South Africa, Shuttle 02 Dance History Research Skills Development Project Workshop proceedings, Articles and Working Papers. Articles in newspapers and magazines include Chris Saunders “Pantsula” Colors Magazine #78, Dance, Mailand: Benetton, 2010; Jackie Bischof “See Ya, Twerk. It’s Pantsula time” The Wallstreet Journal, Dec 2013 and a number of similar articles in South African and international newspapers on the occasion of events related to pantsula-culture (performances, music videos, movies). The South African photographers Alexia Farber and Chris Saunders have over recent years (ca. 2010-2015) produced a significant body of documentary photography work on Pantsula, but there is to my knowledge no comparable historical body of work. In 1988, Oliver Schmitz produced the film “Mapantsula”. Co-written by Schmitz and Thomas Mogotlane (1953-1993), who also played the main character, it tells the story of township life under Apartheid, seen through the eyes of a small thief, but doesn’t show the dance (see also note 9). This shall change with an upcoming film titled “Tjovitjo”, directed by Vincent Moloi, with the participation of many Pantsula dancers and Warren Masemola as the lead actor (in production). The documentary movie “African Cypher” by Brian Little (2012), based on material shot for the RedBull Beat Battle dance competition, prominently features pantsula, as well as Martin Meissonier’s television-documentary “Dancing City Johannesburg” (2012). Music videos that feature pantsula-dance include: Beyoncé “Run the world (Girls) 2011, Bassment Jaxx “What a Difference Your Love Makes” 2013, Okmalumkoolkat “Allblackblackkat” 2014. Pantsula has been most prominently featured on South African television, with shows like “Lapologa” (SABC 1, presented by Collins Mashego, 1980), “Shell-Road to Fame” (SABC 1, 1994), “Stumbo Stomp” (SABC 1, 2014-2015). These shows come in the format of a dance competition and have inspired thousands of young people in South Africa. Some dancers recall that they learned to dance pantsula in the 1980s in front of the television, particularly through watching “Lapologa”. Illustrations

Broken Train Window (Johannesburg) 2013 Picture by Chris Saunders © Chris Saunders and Impilo Mapantsula Vusi Mdoyi and Sello Modiga in the train 2013 Joshua Mokoena, Sello Modiga and Vusi Mdoyi Picture by Chris Saunders © Chris Saunders on the platform in Jeppestown 2013 and Impilo Mapantsula Picture by Chris Saunders © Chris Saunders and Impilo Mapantsula

Vusi Mdoyi at the station in Jeppestown 2013 Sello Modiga in the train 2013 Picture by Chris Saunders © Chris Saunders Picture by Chris Saunders © Chris Saunders and Impilo Mapantsula and Impilo Mapantsula Literature

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