3.5 Years In Making A Master

“I’ve had a relationship with this document for a longer than I’ve had a relationship with you”

My words to my husband as we printed and bound my masters dissertation in the early hours of a Monday morning. I had just started the second year of my Masters studies when we met in 2013. Now, two and half years after we met my husband and I were standing in front of an industrial photocopy machine printing and binding the 221 page document that is my Master of Arts (Drama and Film) dissertation. And a 23 page draft article which still needs fine tuning before I could admit it for publication, and plagiarism forms, and the form I required to submit my dissertation. Despite a long week, and all the work still waiting for us my husband had sat next to me as I did my final proofread. Brought me cups of tea to make sure that I stayed hydrated and accompanied some of the mugs of tea with vitamins to make sure I stayed energised and focused.

Sometimes tired happens to good people. After punching holes in the wrong side of the page for binding, we found more paper reprinted and punched holes in the correct side of the page and bound both copies of my dissertation. Home to bed, and two a half hours later Mauritz was up and off to work, and I was up and off to Pretoria to submit.

Parking at the University of Pretoria is always a problem. Always. We joke and say that when you receive any degree from the University of Pretoria you got it with diploma in parking. Students at the Hatfield campus can fit a car into spaces previously not deemed large enough to fit a car. We are creative and precise parkers. As I started my third circle of campus looking for a parking spot I decided to go off grid. Next to one of the theatres close to the drama department was an area we often used when parking was problematic. When I got there two other cars were already parked there, but there appeared to be just enough space for me to fit, although a concrete bench would make things slightly problematic. I got my car close to the parking, pulled up my hand brake, got out of the car, took a deep breath and pulled the concrete bench out of the way. It only moved a few centimetres. I could only move the heavy concrete bench a few centimetres but it was enough. I got the room I needed to park and I was out. Copies in hand and off to my study supervisor to get my form signed. My stomach felt heavy as I climbed the stairs. I was expecting to feel light. Perhaps even relief. I said as much to my study supervisor. He told me about his first Master’s student:

“When he handed in his hard copies for the library he looked light as a feather”

It didn’t help my lead-like feeling much. With my signed form I walked to the administration offices where I needed to hand in my dissertation. My brother had joined me and was with me to metaphorically hold my hand at this point in my life that marked the culmination of years of work. When we got to the office the admin clerk who was supposed to accept my work was out on lunch. Which gave us time for me to brake my tea rule for cappuccinos. Mostly so that I could stay awake. While we waited I copied my digital work in pdf and word format to a CD on a hunch. My hunch paid off. As I handed in my two copies, forms, plagiarism forma and article the administration clerk asked for my CD with the digital work. Cool as a cucumber I handed over the freshly burned CD. Anticlimactically.

I stood at the counter, glass separating myself and the clerk and I felt somewhat hollow. Three and a half years of work. Hours of my life, my social life. Time I could have spent planning my wedding, time I could have spent with family or friends, time I could have spent sleeping went into that document and it was suddenly out of my hands. There was nothing and for now I would get nothing in return. I looked at the clerk who smiled at me:

“About halfway through the process I’ll send you an email to keep you up to date. Congratulations.”

On the way home I phoned my parents to let them know my dissertation was submitted. They had been there for me, and helped and supported me through 7.5 years of studying, crying, laughing:

"You and Mauritz should go out for dinner tonight"

"We are both exhausted. We hardly slept last night, so I think I'll just get us takeaways for supper"

"In that case make it fancy takeaways. We can't be there for you today, but we can pay for a really special supper"

Keeping It Fresh And Making A Move

On Monday I got to attend the opening of what had always been the Krêkvars Student Arts Festival, but is now the Krêkvars-Kopanong Student Arts Festival. "Krêkvars" is a play on an afrikaans saying that means something is so fresh that it cracks. I have no idea what Kopanong means.  I’ve been part of this drama festival for the past seven years, and I’m even in the Festival’s Facebook profile picture and on the website. This year is the first year that I won’t be performing in or directing at least one production. Attending the opening made me realise why.

This image is from Three Wall Temple directed by Nico Scheepers and is the image the Krêkvars-Kopanong Festival uses for media. The photo was taken by Christiaan Harris with, from top to bottom: Luan Jacobs, Gopala Davies, myself Chandre Bo, Werner Coetzee and Brinsley Motsepa.

The Krêkvars Student Arts Festival started as a platform for the Honours directing students at the drama department to create and direct theatre and was the platform via which they could showcase their work. Later the third year drama students obligatory became part of this process for their acting marks. The festival grew over the past 15 years and has become a space in which students and young writers, directors and actors form every walk of life can create and showcase their work at a minimum cost. Although there are a lot of outside shows now, there has always been a majority of Tuks, and old Tuks students creating shows with the current set of Drama students. I have performed at the opening evening which was always held the Saturday evening before the Monday opening of the festival at least three times over the past few years. Although the festival was a cornerstone in my education, learning about performance and theatre in some ways it had become a wall for me. Keeping me safe in an area where people knew me and respected my work.

This year I didn’t have the capacity to enter. I’m now living far away from the people I know and that I could potentially work with.  I had rehearsed and performed for a corporate event and been to Europe in the time when I would have needed to be working on a show. And if I had entered a show for the festival I would most likely have missed out on my own personal growth and the growth of my marriage the unplanned excursion to Europe had offered me. It just wasn’t possible for me to enter a show this year, although I was still very aware of entering dates, closing dates and when the festival was to start.

The week before the festival opened I said to my husband that I found it odd that I hadn’t received an invitation for the opening as I was still a Masters student and we were always invited. A day later I received a message saying that I was invited to the Festival Opening, on the Monday evening when the festival had already started. This year with a new name and a new time for the press-opening I now had to choose which show I wanted to watch as two were to be performed, and I had to pay an entrance fee for my husband (in the past I was always able to take a plus one with me at no cost). It was different. Very different. 

As we walked to the noise on the grounds of my alma mater and my beloved drama department my husband asked:

“Are you going to know anyone here”

I knew at least two of my friends would be there for certain.

“Probably not. Maybe.”

The strung fairy lights, gas heaters and lit trees of the Drama Department quad that hosted the speeches of the official opening at the University of Pretoria.

As we walked into the highly excitable crowd of actors and dangling fairy lights I heard my name being called by people who had studied there before me, people who were younger and I had directed and worked with and were all at the opening in various capacities. Some as current post-grad students, some as directors for shows running at the festival and some just because they had nothing better to do on a Monday evening. The general confusion as we tried to figure out what was to happen next as the invitation was vague and trying to find a glass of wine that the first years who were supposed to be working hadn’t already downed in a dark corner somewhere was familiar. For a moment I remembered what it was like when I was still an undergrad student. And then I bumped into an old friend who I had worked with a lot, but had not seen in a while due to work and proximities. 

“We only had two weeks of rehearsal for the festival” he told me.

“I pulled out of a presentation so that I could focus my attention on the show”

The presentation he had pulled out of was with a friend of mine who I strongly believe is going places. And the presentation he had pulled out of was for at television channel. Only he will know if the call he made was the right call. But I realised if our places had been switched it wouldn't have been the call I would have made.

This year I have heard from actors of all levels of experience, and inexperience, semi-celebrity and complete unknown that our industry has been eerily quiet. I’ve felt it in the declining amount of castings I’ve attended in our winter months. So as much as I understand wanting to be in the walled-in safety of the festival I realised on Monday evening that it was time for me to move on. To try to get my work into bigger festivals. To work with new people as well as the familiar ones. To embrace the new city I’m living in. If I want to be seen as a professional and not just a student I should starting acting and working like one. It's time to ditch the student card and grab a set of keys for the big world.

As we left the festival at an early hour as my husband had to work in the morning and I had various tasks that required my attention I was filled with nostalgia. The festival was so different from what I had been used to and I couldn't expect it to stay perfect in time for my annual return. It had grown and become something different and it's time for me to take that cue.

You know its Festival time if you're drinking red wine form a plastic glass. Or a styrofoam glass...

Mastering It!

If all goes well I will hand in my dissertation before the end of this month. My dissertation has been by the proof reader and will be returned to me shortly and in the next day or two I should have finished my article. It's been 3 and half years of writing, re-writing, frustration, slide-shows, presentations, swearing, blood, sweat and tears. And there were times when I loved it. When I got home from a meeting with my study supervisor and it felt like all the work was coming together.

This year has been particularly interesting with regards to trying to work on my Masters. 10 days before my wedding I handed in the first full draft of my dissertation. I had a moment of glory before I fell completely into final preparations before my wedding. Coming back from honeymoon we had the basics in place in our house. The kettle and the couches and the beds were all there. But there were boxes of things, and bits and pieces of wedding leftovers everywhere which required attention.

So somewhere between auditioning, trying to put our new life together in a new city and getting a handle on eating healthy, meal preparations, and being a new wife finding the time for my Masters has been challenging. 

And as I stand at the precipice of finishing, I got asked something very interesting this weekend.

On Saturday I did a casting, and after waiting for three hours I did my ID in front of the camera and for the first time ever I was asked:

“Are you studying?”

“I’m finishing my Masters”

“In what?”

“Gender in South African cinema”

“Wow. That’s fantastic.”

The jet-set life is going to kill me.

When you work freelance plans are never easily made. Personal plans and travel plans are always placed on hold. Because you always hope that something will come up. A casting, an audition or maybe just, something that pays. Inevitably what happens is after eventually deciding to make a plan the night before you get an email from your agent and you end up cancelling on the last minute. Its an actors way of life.

And so after a meeting with a corporate to see if I would work for their show (who I cannot and will not name in the hope of being hired again) I got a phone call from my husband, quite literally as I got into my car to go back home:

“I have to go to Belgium for work. And you can come with”

Insert Friday evening date that my husband wanted us to leave

“And that way we get an extra weekend in Europe.”

Unfortunately the Friday my husband wanted to leave was the weekend of performances for the corporate I had just met with. Of course.

After one meet to see if I fitted the requirements all I knew was the rehearsal and performance dates, and that I fitted the requirements. And if of course, the “we’ll let you know” thing. I decided honesty was the best policy. And after settling on a minimal amount that I would do the contract for I phoned my contact at the company:

“I am not sure if you are planning on using me, but I just found out that I have an opportunity to go to Europe. So if you could let me know if you in fact want to use me, and what the contract details are so that I can decide about the opportunity I would really appreciate it. I don’t want to inconvenience anyone, and would like to let all parties know as soon as possible”

And then I waited. That evening I received a phone call. They wanted to use me and they were offering double the minimum we were going for. The decision was made, and I would be doing the contract. That left the trip to Europe. My husband wiggled the dates, and we would be flying on separate flights. As his work would be paying for his flight, and we would be paying for mine I was on a much cheaper flight, and it was also later in the evening. Which we desperately needed as I would be working until about 4 on Sunday afternoon.

Which meant that on Sunday, after performing and dancing the whole day I would basically be going to straight to the airport stopping only for a quick shower. My packed luggage and carry-on bag was standing ready by the front door when I left my house that morning already.

After performing I stopped at home where my brother was already waiting for me as my husband was already checking in for his flight. I showered in record time (for my sake as much as the people who would be stuck sitting next to me) and we were out the door. My special travel bag with my flight details, earphones and passport in hand. 3 hours before my flight I confidently walked towards the gate to board my flight. As the airport attendant for British Airways paged through my passport she asked for my other passport. I didn’t understand why.

“When you fly through Heathrow you require a UK transit Visa”

“No, there’s my Schengen Visa. I just have a layover in Heathrow, I’m not even leaving Terminal 5.”

“You still need a UK Transit Visa because you are South African”

As you can imagine, I went into full panic mode. And phoned my husband. My options were to change my flight, or to go and get the visa on Monday morning. Like a spreading virus my brother was on the phone with contacts of his to find out about the visa, as were my husbands parents.

A manager from the ground staff of British Airways came and spoke to me.

“Have you been to Europe before?”

“Yes, but my old Schengen Visa is in my passport that expired.”

“Which country did you fly through?”

“Dubai”

“Have you been to America before?”

I had. My American Visa, issued 9 years before was still valid for a year. Although it was in my expired passport, back at home. Apparently if I had a US Visa I didn't need a UK Transit Visa.

“How far away do you live?”

We had enough time to go back to my house and get my old passport and be back in time for my flight. So we did.

My brother, like an ocean of calm, drove me back and forth as I fielded phone calls. My husband phoned and googled to make 100% sure that my US Visa would be sufficient. And in all the chaos no one we spoke to had ever heard about the UK Transit Visa. It wasn’t even mentioned on the British Airways website. But apparently it was required. As I run into my flat the electricity was off due to load shedding, but I knew exactly where my old passport was.

As I returned with my old passport containing my US Visa my husband was already boarding his flight. As I checked in my luggage I called to tell him I was making my flight. His aeroplane was already moving onto the runway. A minute later and he would have had to turn off his phone. We were both on our way to Belgium.

One of our only sunny days in Europe, exploring the city of Brugges after my husband's meeting.

A week into our trip my husband and I were sitting on the edge of the Seine drinking a bottle of wine after walking around Paris all day. As I took of my shoes I could still see the blisters all over my feet from performing the weekend before.

Low budget life, laughter and load shedding.

Getting ready for my close-up.

A few weeks ago I got the amazing opportunity to play the lead character in a short film made for the My Rode Reel short film competition. My last, rather brief post, was about this film. You know its going to be something special when the script for a 3 minute short film has you doing an ugly cry in a restaurant while you’re reading it.

My Rode Reel is a 3 minute short film competition where the creators of the short film use rode microphones in order to make their short films, and the general public vote for their favourites. A friend of mine who I’ve worked with before, Henco J, called and asked if I would be available to work with is team. Then, as a newlywed, he asked where he would be able to buy a cheap wedding veil:

“I know of a few places. But if you want a real veil that will look good on film they tend to be expensive. Whose character will be using it, and what for?”

“We’re shooting a wedding scene, so your character will be wearing it”

“Well if it won’t get hurt we can use my veil from my wedding”

“Are you sure? And then we’ll hire you a wedding dress”

“Well, I have a wedding dress hanging in my cupboard that has only been used once, and I’m not planning on using it again any time soon”

“We really don’t need to use your dress”

“At least then I get to wear it again!”

A few days later I received my script, and the long list of costume changes I would need for the shoot. About 6 changes excluding my wedding dress. So bright and early on the morning of the shoot I packed what felt like half of my cupboard into my car and headed off to our first location.

I had learned in the past that suitcases don't work as well as barrels or tubs

At our first location I changed into the first costume chosen by the director and crew and in a small dimly lit bathroom. I started doing my makeup there, but realised I was relying on muscle memory more than what I was actually seeing, so I sent in the sunlight with a small compact to repair the damage and finish my makeup. 2 scenes later our art director helped me change into my wedding dress in a passage.

Having a candle lit supper thanks to load shedding, and a break
from filming.

There’s something amazingly freeing about low-budget filmmaking. There’s still a lot of stress on all sides, but you get to work with really amazing people because they all want to be there. Everyone working on the project is there because the film is something we all want to make. It's not just a job. If we weren’t telling each other about the ridiculous things we had done on set, or situations we had been in while waiting around on set we were creating new jokes. Especially as load shedding hit us and our scheduled 8pm wrap became a 11pm wrap.

And I got to do things I had never done before. I sat in a car with a camera fixed to the window via some suction mechanism and pointing at me as we drove. There was also another camera perched on a bakkie in front of our car as myself and the male lead Reynard Slabbert drove around a barely lit neighbourhood (thank you load shedding).

AND, we played with green-screen! I was challenged multiple times to keep a moment for a minute. Or to move in the exact same way I had before, hold my arm up in the same manner or redo something over and over and not change a muscle, angle or hair. All of which challenged me immensely!

And when I crawled into by bed at 1 in the morning I was tired, and greatly fulfilled. I do think, however, that our "making of" clip tells the story in a way I cannot:

Our Rode Reel: Disremember

As I start a new contract in quite literally an hour and a half my time is somewhat limited this morning. I will however be doing a post on all our behind the scenes antics later in this week.

But for now, here is the time I was part of's submission for the international My Rode Reel competition!

Thank you to everyone involved, and who deemed it wise to involve me! You will all be named and shamed in the next post!

Ah La Natural

As an actress, every two years actors need to get new headshots. It's one of those things. We got older, we change our hair, we change our routines (for better or worse) and we look different. I grew out my fringe, as well as the rest of my head of hair, and lost a few kilograms (gained them again and then lost them) in two years.  It was time for new headshots.

My cousin had shot my previous photographs. While studying photography she required a model to practice with, so I got play model for 2 hours one afternoon. We were having fun more than anything else and got some fantastic shots while we were doing it. I also learned a lot while we were shooting about posing and energy as it was the first time I was in a studio doing multiple photographs. I used the photos she gave me when trying to find an agent. Despite loving the old photographs it was time for new ones.

Photographs taken by my cousin Danielle Botha

The message from the photographer my agent uses to do our headshots said to keep my makeup natural. Something I would have done anyway as I want the photographs to show me as naturally as possible. Well, at least the best version of a natural me. I want to be able to be cast as a high-maintenance socialite and a clean faced scullery maid from the same set of photographs. When I walk through a door at a casting I want to look like my photograph. So I prepped for the session in the studio…

Once the hair was washed and conditioned, and all the places that needed to be shaved in the shower and plucked after the shower were shaved and plucked, I liberally sprayed heat protect in my hair. Then my mop was blow dried so that all my curls set properly. Otherwise half of my head looks great and the other half looks like I slept on it. Probably outside. Then the face started.

As a rule: no sunscreen or any products with zinc in them as they could make my face appear white in photos when photographed with a flash. Moisturizer, always in ample amounts, and then primer goes on to make sure that the foundation goes on smoothly. If I have a red pimple green base goes on the spot so as to camouflage the red and I end up looking like I’ve been marked to shoot a scene for special effects. Then the foundation goes on. The stuff that instantly builds confidence. I start with the shade that matches my skin. Then a shade lighter on my forehead, nose and cheekbones and shade darker beneath my cheekbones, side of my nose and temples in order to counter my face for the photographs and high light my cheekbones. Often lighting washes away one's bone structure so that your face appears flat in photographs so contouring helps to counteract that. Once the different smears of colour are all blended in to highlight my bone structure...OK, build my bone structure, the blush goes on. Just a little more cheekbone for me. Then my brow bones are highlighted, and the crease of my eye is shadowed. Close to the end I line my top line with liquid liner and put on a healthy coat of mascara which not only darkens my already black eyelashes, but thickens and extends them. Its natural, so that sets of strip and individual lashes remain at the bottom of my makeup box.

A clump!

Another brush is used to try and get rid of the blob of mascara on the end of a lash. When this proves futile I find a needle and use that to carefully separate the lashes which the waterproof mascara was attempting to weld together. The final touches include 8 hour cream for my lips and powder to set everything.

The curls need help. So I grab a curling tong and re-curl some of the hair around my face to shape it a little.

A foundation brush, blush brush, eye shadow brush, thin angle brush, mascara brush (needle) and powder brush, a blending sponge, 2 pallets for foundation and eyeshadow colour, waterproof liquid eyeliner, waterproof mascara, a hair dryer and curling iron and about an hour and a half later there I was.

Natural.

Lady natural at least. If I was a guy I would arrive at the photographer freshly showered, perhaps with a little face cream on and a freshly shaved face. Ok, a face shaved when a girlfriend complained a day or two ago. And the photographer would brush some powder on them so that they don’t shine in front of the camera and they would have a different shirt there which they would change right there.

Natural.

As I took my 6 changes of clothes home, base, mascara, powder and lip gloss required for changes and touch ups I was happy.

Photoshop will catch anything I missed.

Flying High - A Silent Film

Our director and producer Henco J, our cinematographer and co-producer Lize Jacobs and our Lighting man Nickie Jacobs.

A still from our short film.

Last year I got the amazing opportunity to spend a Saturday working with a group of friends shooting a short film for the 48 hour film festival. The genre we drew was 'Silent film' which presented a whole new set of challenges as none of us had done anything of the sort before. I got to play the part of the “seductress” in the almost film noir like short film.

I posted about it last year, but just to recap Flying High won ‘Best Directing’, ‘Best Score’ and ‘Best Choreography’. It was also nominated for for ‘Best Script’ and ‘Best Film’.

I wasn’t able to see the screening of the short film at the festival, and as our director didn’t release the film publicly, a fancy way for saying he didn’t put it up on youtube, I hadn’t seen it. Our director, Henco J, had entered the film into other short film competitions, so he had to wait before uploading the film.

Last week up uploaded it.

Flying High

We are so sorry to inform you…

I’m going to add to the wealth of information written about it. The boxing match that happened this weekend. But only in so far as this match invoked my own reflections.

I don’t follow boxing. I don’t care much for it. However there was so much hype around the match that one couldn't help getting a little involved. But the hype wasn't about the statistics of the game, or the betting odds but the people themselves. Mayweather with his faults and bravado and Pacquiao with his humility and belief. Upon hearing that Pacquiao had lost I said to my husband:

“I suppose the real test of Pacquiao’s faith will be in how he handles his loss”

After submitting my CV and headshot I was informed that I was not selected to audition for a corporate show. The reason could be almost anything. That I didn’t have the right look for the show, that I didn’t have the kind of experience they were looking for, or that I didn’t have the specific training they wanted. My agent is always upbeat an encouraging when they pass along news like this to me. In this email I got:

“Just keep swimming”

A sentiment I often hear from my parents, and which I'm always grateful for. Every time my mom sees a late night biography about an actor she’ll call me and tell me that they struggled too. That they were also told ‘no’. That they had to work really hard and face slamming doors before little by little they carved a path for themselves. So I’m carving a path for myself. It’s out of rock, but I’m doing it with every audition I go to. My faith will not be shaken, and I know that there is a purpose in everything I do.

This industry is about the downs as much as it is about the ups. Perhaps even more so as most of us have to face a lot more downs before we get a few of those ups. As long as the ups keeping making up for the downs I’ll be ok. When they don’t I might have to rethink my career. But its just a career. Being a performer is a big part of who I am. But its not everything I am. For now I can still handle the downs.

Our team post-warrior race on Saturday. Nothing makes you feel tough like doing tough things!