

JUST THE TICKET!

MY 50 YEARS IN SOUTH AFRICAN SHOW BUSINESS
Part Two: One-Stop Shopping

Percy Tucker

Part One and Part Three are available on Smashwords

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without prior permission from the publisher. ©Percy Tucker 1997

For Graham Brian Dickason

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CONTENTS

Preface

Foreword

Introduction and Acknowledgements

Author's Note

Prologue: Exits

Part Two - One-Stop Shopping

32.On Line

33.The Show Must Go On

34.All Aboard

35.The Colour of Money

36.Black Magic

37.Bible Stories

38.Glimmers of Light

39.Market Forces

40.Anger and After

41.Struggles

42.Entr'acte: The Trouble with Harry

43.Everybody Welcome

44.Some Do, Some Don't

45.Entr'acte: A Place in the Sun

46.Put Another Nickel In

47.State of the Art

48.And the Band Played On

49.Future Indicative

50.Burying the Past

51.Hard Times

52.Finding a Voice

53.Soldiering On

54.Puppets, Panto and Politics

About the Author
PREFACE

Attending an opening night performance in Cape Town without meeting Percy Tucker and Graham Dickason is unimaginable and rarely is there a ballet or opera event to which they do not bring their elegance and charm. Despite his many decades in theatre, Percy's regular attendance, unwavering support, enthusiasm and sheer delight in the industry that runs through his veins is remarkable. A chance conversation at one such opening performance at The Fugard Theatre led to the publication of this e-book version of Just The Ticket! An autobiography detailing Percy's involvement and support of the entertainment industry, the book also serves as an archival document, recording the complexities of a theatre industry during the apartheid years.

The original proofs were destroyed in a fire at the publishers which meant that despite many requests a reprint of the first edition was nigh impossible. As a theatre scholar and critic, Percy's book has been an invaluable resource to me and it seemed a fitting contribution to the South African archive to enable its reprint and accessibility in the digital age.

It gives me great joy to celebrate the occasion of Percy's 90th birthday with the release of this edition. While he may have "retired" from Computicket in 1994 his involvement in and support of the performing arts in South Africa has never wavered and a second volume of his autobiography would not be a slim one.

I hope you enjoy reading the remarkable story of the "boy from Benoni" who put the East Rand town on the map long before Charlize Theron became a household name.

Tracey Saunders

Cape Town

10th July 2018

FOREWORD

I am delighted, on behalf of our profession, to have the opportunity of expressing from the heart a few thoughts about a very special man. It is over thirty years since I, then a bumptious teenager, first met Percy Tucker. I arrived in Johannesburg just having signed pianist Russ Conway to tour South Africa and was taken to lunch by Percy. It was the beginning of a wonderful friendship. The book you are about to read chronicles the four decades, and more, of his life spent in our strange and exciting world. Percy has earned a very special place in the history of South African theatre and entertainment. He was the first true gentleman I met in the business and was always in a class of his own - a friend of the theatre - and the theatre is deeply indebted to him.

Percy, bitten by the theatre bug at a very early age, has dedicated his life to the performing arts. By creating first Show Service and then the gigantic Computicket network, he has had an enormous influence over the development of the full spectrum of entertainment in our country. Without an audience a performance is meaningless, and he enabled people to see anything they wanted to with ease. The importance of this contribution can never be exaggerated.

A book about the theatre is born long before the actual writing begins- in Percy's case it was when he was a young stage-struck theatregoer from Benoni and went on to become a fledgling ticket agent with one booking office in Jeppe Street, Johannesburg. He persevered where, so many others had failed until he controlled the ticketing of every theatrical, entertainment and sporting event staged in our country.

Percy Tucker is an extraordinary man who personifies everything a ticket agent ought ideally to be. His vision of the theatrical world is always clearsighted, true and steady. He is unbelievably generous, always scrupulously fair and understanding, treating everybody - stars and beginners- in exactly the same sensitive way, and he is entirely devoid of malice - unusual traits in our profession. A wonderful showman, he has inspired people to think that the theatre is not only important but indispensable to our lives. Self-effacing ('And what do you do, Mr Tucker?' 'Oh, I just sell the tickets'), always optimistic and supportive, generous with advice and encouragement, he has been a true patron of the arts.

How well I remember his kind remarks about some of my early abortive efforts, and his praise, so gratefully received, for later and better efforts remains etched in my memory. He has had a great influence on a great many careers and we have all benefited from his wise counsel. For many reasons, connected with finance, the changing structure of the theatre, and the times we now live in, we will not see his like again and more's the pity. His departure from Computicket marked the end of an era and left a huge gap. Things will never be the same again, but his legacy remains.

No one I know goes to the theatre more often than Percy Tucker, and indeed, the entertainment world has always seemed to nourish and elate him, and he has spent his life organising the chaos endemic to the theatre business. He has enormous integrity, an accolade given to many but deserved by few. His prodigious memory for productions and people is a source of wonder to me, and he himself soon became one of South Africa's best loved theatre personalities.

Always in the wings, alert to every need and every crisis, Percy Tucker has played a vital role in keeping entertainment alive, coping with the changes that both the years and our political developments have brought, and feeding the arts with his love and admiration. Today, with the decline both of funds and respect, the arts are more vulnerable than ever before and people like Percy Tucker are needed more than ever. He has served our industry with fanatical loyalty and is the nearest thing we have to a guru. Friends like Percy Tucker come only once in a lifetime. Read and enjoy this indispensable account of his - and our - world across five decades.

PIETER TOERIEN

Cape Town

1997

INTRODUCTIONS AND ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

There is an ancient belief that as long as you have good memories, old age will bring the pleasant experience of reliving them. Happily, I am quite a way from old age yet, but when it can no longer be kept at bay, I won't be short of memories- magic memories. In many ways I've lived a life of reflected glory, basking in the light of the many dozens of great performing artists I have met and worked with and, in several cases, with whom I've made lasting friendships. This enviable state of affairs came about through a love affair with the theatre, in all its forms, which began in my childhood and has continued undimmed ever since. Eventually this great passion led me to earn my living by the pleasurable means of devoting myself to my hobby.

From the moment I opened Show Service in 1954 and became what my horrified father called 'a ticket seller', work and pleasure became indivisible. I actually enjoyed slaving away, virtually round the clock, for some forty years before reluctantly having to concede, in 1994, that I'd reached the age of retirement. The work was hard and not, of course, without difficulties, dramas and disappointments, but these were far outweighed by the constant challenge and excitement of keeping the arts alive in our complex, constantly changing, often troubled, but always vibrant culture. Nobody, in my view, lives a totally charmed life, but I've come pretty close, blessed as I've been by good fortune.

None of this, however, makes a good reason to tell my story, and when it was suggested that I write my autobiography, my first reaction was to think, 'Who on earth would be interested in the life of a stage-struck small-town boy, who followed a dream and found a niche in the confines of a relatively small entertainment industry?'

Forced, however, to give the matter some thought, I realised that my story is the story of six decades of entertainment in South Africa in general, and Johannesburg in particular. Looking back, it is astounding how many gifted artists of international repute have visited these shores, through good times and bad, during my own lifetime, bringing pleasure and enrichment to hundreds of thousands of South Africans, many of whom might never otherwise have had the opportunity to see and hear them perform.

Then, too, I've watched homegrown talent develop and prosper, finding fame both here and overseas, and seen the number of theatre buildings grow to house the ambitions of our own producers, directors and actors. I've marvelled at the courage of those who fought the iniquitous colour bar, using the universal language of drama as a weapon, and been awestruck by the powerful and uninhibited gifts of black performers, struggling to make their voices heard in a land which denied them access to its privilege.

Delving into the archives, I realised that my own life encompasses a remarkable pageant of people, places and events which deserve a mention in our recorded history. I realised, too, that despite the handful of memoirs and histories of individual lives and institutions, no book has been published that gives an overview of the last sixty years of entertainment in this country.

And, on a more frivolous and egocentric note, why not share some of my more amusing and glamorous memories as a pleasant reminder of things past for the older generation and, hopefully, a fascinating journey into their parents' and grandparents' world for the young?

And so, I invite you to journey back and forth with me over the years.....

This book would never have seen the light of day without the unstinting help of a great many people. It is, alas, impossible for me to mention everyone by name but there are several debts of gratitude that cannot go unrecorded.

To Patric van Blerk must go the credit for instigating the project by introducing me to Nicholas Combrinck of Jonathan Ball Publishers. It is thanks to Nicholas' persuasion, encouragement and commitment that the book became a reality.

My thanks to Clive Hirschhorn for suggesting that I bring Robyn Karney from London to work with me on the book. Herself a former South African who began her working life in the Johannesburg theatre, and subsequently a writer and editor, Robyn gave up a year of her life to apply her expertise to guiding me through the morass of memories and piles of paper - a task which she originally thought would take a little over six weeks! For once she was wrong. It's impossible to express my appreciation of such dedication.

In correcting and polishing the text, my editor Pat Tucker (no relation) gave her time, her encouragement, her experience and, most importantly, her skill, well beyond the call of duty. We were extremely fortunate to have her services.

Countless other people gave of their time and effort to answering queries, confirming facts and sharing memories. Again, I cannot list all of them, and I beg the understanding of anybody who has grounds to feel excluded. However, in no particular order, I must record the. help given by Malcolm Hacksley, Jeremy Fogg and Ann Torlesse of the National English Literary Museum (NELM) in Grahamstown where my research began. It is an inspirational institution and the unstinting courtesy of the staff will be long remembered. Thanks too, to Linda Boswell, Marius Basson and Carol Leigh of the African Studies Library, Johannesburg, for their endless co-operation, to archivist Edna Beukes at the Civic Theatre, Marie Human of Bailey's African Archives, Louana Brewis of the National Archives in Pretoria, and Clive Chipkin, whose book Johannesburg Style was a rich source.

Prominent among those who allowed me to drive them mad in my quest for accurate facts were the ever-helpful Rita Ehlers, Peter Terry and Jaco van der Westhuizen at PACT Drama, Johan Mare and Christine Keitz at PACT Opera, and Jonathan Hurwitz of PACT Ballet. I also tormented Joan Brickhill, Eghard van der Hoven, Michal Grobbelaar, Mannie Manim and Des and Dawn Lindberg, as well as several former colleagues from Computicket, notably Aubrey Louw, Peter Campbell and Iona Myburgh.

Anthony Farmer was a mine of information and memories, as were Hazel and Sam Feldman, Marilyn Lurie and Kay Blythe of Showtime International, and Gail Jaffit-Leibman and her sister Lorraine Conidaris. I owe a very special 'thank you' to the incomparable Percy Baneshik and to my dear friend and mentor Leonard Schach who, sadly, did not live to see the finished product.

The thorny path to completion was also made easier by Henry Ascar, who generously loaned me his archival material, Peter Feldman of The Star, Brian Brooke, Michael Brooke, Fiona Fraser, Olive King, Vanessa Cooke, Philip Morrall, Robert Burring of SAMRO, the staff of the Vita Awards office, Bob Courtney, John Cowen, Kathy Brookes of Museum Africa, Wendy de la Harpe, Mike Dunk, Hilton Morby-Smith, Shirley Firth, Irene Frangs, Ruth Oppenheim, John Kani, Nielle Roux, Butch Evans, June Hern, Bryan Hill, Michael Hobson, Shelagh Holliday, Michael McCabe, Michael McGovern, Richard Loring, Judy Page, Kerry Jordan, Michael Lovegrove, Patrick Mynhardt, Verity Lloyd, Michael Maxwell, Philip McDonald, Lynette Marais, Geoffrey Neimann, Gertie Awerbuch, Andre Pieterse, Dennis Reinecke, John Roos, Charles Stodel, Di Sparkes, Lotte Spider, Alan Swerdlow, Brian Thomas, Louis van Niekerk, Jean-Claude Laurent of the State Theatre, John Whiteley, Graham Wright, Jenifer Williams and Sun City's splendid photographer Lewis Horwitz.

In Cape Town, Basil Rubin was infinitely helpful, as were CAPAB archivist Hope Malan, Marilyn Holloway of CAPAB Ballet, Rodney Phillips at the Baxter Theatre, Ronnie Quibell, Robert Kirby, Joan Manners and, of course, my friend Pieter Toerien. Special thanks to Joy Wildman for allowing me to read her unpublished memoirs of Taubie Kushlick, and to Emmanuel Zabar who diligently helped me to file my massive collection of memorabilia.

Last, but certainly not least, I must express my gratitude to photographer Ruphin Coudyzer for making his superb work available to me and to Francine Blum of Jonathan Ball Publishers for her help and interest.

Finally, without the loyalty and devotion of my staff at Show Service and Computicket, my dreams and ambitions would never have come to fruition. They know who they are, and I will be forever grateful to them. I mean no disrespect to the others when I single out in particular Sheila Thomas, Joan Manners, Martie Geerdts, Glynnis Davies, Molly Meredith, Rene Hodkinson, Isabel Mendoza, Martie Bettini, Florence Msimango, Alice Nawrattel, Tommy Mahlobogoane, Cynthia Jurrius, Mary Harding, Mavis Oliver, Rose Ryder, Mary Rise borough, Cheryl van Doorn, Graydon Fry, and a special thank you to Maria Faria. Rina Minnaar, Eddie Edwards, Pearl Niemach, Dan Liebenberg and Peggy Henriques who are, alas, no longer with us, deserve to be remembered. This book doesn't pretend to be an exhaustive listing of every theatrical event that ever happened here- that would take several volumes - but I hope that the information will prove useful to future historians, and the content interesting and entertaining to present readers.

On the 26 April 1997, just prior to the publication of this book, Brian Brooke, the last of the great South African actor/director/managers passed away. His memory will live on in these pages.

PERCY TUCKER

Johannesburg

1997
AUTHOR'S NOTE

Aside from my own experience and memories, the major source of information for this book has been my substantial archive of personal and business letters and documents, mementoes, photographs, diaries, theatre, programmes and press clippings collected over my lifetime.

The facts have been supplemented or verified by the records of theatrical managements, cinema and sports personnel, critics and journalists, library news archives and, of course, former colleagues.

In addition, I consulted the following books:

  * Beginners Please, Patricia Storrar, Children's Theatre, 1968

  * Broadway's Greatest Musicals, Abe Laufe, David & Charles, 1969

  * But the Melody Lingers On, Malcolm Woolfson, Perskor, 1992

  * Don't Put Your Daughter on the Stage, Margaret Webster, Alfred A Knopf, 1972

  * International Theatre Annual No 3, ed. Harold Hobson, John Calder, 1953

  * Johannesburg Style, Clive Chipkin, David Philip, 1993

  * My Own Personal Star, Brian Brooke, Limelight Press, 1978

  * My Story, Harry M. Miller, MacMillan Australia, 1983

  * Stage by Stage, Donald Inskip, Human & Rousseau, 1977

  * The Best of Company, Pat Schwartz, Ad Donker, 1988

  * The Boys, Christopher Fitz-Simon, Nick Hern Books, 1994

  * The Fighters, Chris Greyvenstein, Don Nelson, 1981

  * The History of Ballet in South Africa, Marina Grut, Human & Rousseau, 1981

  * The Long Road, Malcolm Woolfson, Napac, 1986

  * The Oxford Companion to the Theatre, ed. Phyllis Hartnoll, Oxford Press, 1993

  * The Penguin Encyclopaedia of Popular Music, ed. Donald Clarke, Penguin Books, 1989

  * They Built a Theatre, Arthur and Anna Romain Hoffman, Ad Donker, 1980

PROLOGUE: EXITS

At 11.30 a.m. on 14 August 1994, sporting an uncharacteristically colourful waistcoat made in London for the occasion, I made my way to the Johannesburg Civic Theatre. The new management of Computicket were throwing a farewell party for me, the last of a series of such gatherings at which I had taken leave of my staff and the representatives of theatre managements in Cape Town and Durban. It was difficult to believe that two days later, on 16 August, I would be officially retired - forty years to the day since I had started my career with the opening of Show Service.

I had no idea what form the party would take, other than the provision of a buffet lunch during which I would see friends and colleagues with whom I had spent my working life. I knew that Mike Egan, the CEO of Interleisure, Computicket's parent company, would say a few words, and that I would have to reply, but I was totally unprepared for what actually awaited me.

The foyer of the Civic was hung with boards recording the history of my years in show business, plus hundreds of photographs of me with the often-glittering international stars who had visited here: Marlene Dietrich, Trini Lopez, Victoria de los Angeles, Roger Moore, Margot Fonteyn, Liza Minnelli, Elton John, and dozens of others. Over a podium hung a large banner of farewell greetings from my staff; on the podium, two grand pianos faced each other; in the centre of it stood a waiting microphone.

The buffet tables were bedecked with flowers, and well-known show tunes played through the speakers as I chatted to Mike Egan, to my Operations Director and rock-like second-in-command for twenty-eight years, Aubrey Louw, and my loyal, stalwart and funny Head of Information, Iona Myburgh, with whom I had fought and laughed for thirty-four years.

Despatched to the doors to greet the guests, I was astonished by the size of the crowd of luminaries who poured in. The first lady of South African musical comedy, Joan Brickhill, blonde and beautiful as ever, 3 arrived with Ian von Memerty and Bryan Schimmel the piano-playing stars of A Handful of Keys; producers Des and Dawn Lindberg came, followed by impresario and producer Pieter Toerien and my cousin, the high-profile impresario Hazel Feldman, with her father, my uncle Joe Goldstein; the elegant Public Relations executive Wilma Lawson Turnbull, director and designer Anthony Farmer, former Mayor Sam Moss, and actor-singer Richard Loring. Melanie Millin-Moore, Sol Kerzner's public relations supremo came, as did actor and executive director of the Market Theatre, John Kani and actor-producer Shirley Firth, actor, director and TV producer Bobby Heaney, actors Michael McGovern and Annabel Linder, as well as PACT Ballet's Dawn Weller and Martin Raistrick, Alan Joseph, then chief executive of the Civic, and my close companion Graham Dickason.

And that was just the start. A good hour later I'd been greeted - and often hugged and kissed- by five hundred people. I was immeasurably moved that the eighty-five-year-old former actor-manager Brian Brooke, as handsome and urbane as ever, and his gracious wife Petrina Fry had made the journey from their farm, and by the appearance of Percy Baneshik, the best-known and most knowledgeable of South Africa's theatre critics.

After lunch, critic and columnist Barry Range, a forceful, witty and articulate Master of Ceremonies, made a wonderful speech and announced that a succession of people would now pay tribute to my achievements. Since I prefer to hide behind the limelight of others, what followed embarrassed me but, I must admit, also filled me with a warm glow of pride.

I am a very emotional man and the honours that were showered on me brought me to the verge of tears that needed all my willpower to control when, some three-and-a-half hours later, I had to acknowledge them. Ian von Memerty and Bryan Schimmel sang songs for me, as did Richard Loring, Des and Dawn Lindberg, and the remarkable Joan Brickhill, whose rendition of what might have been my own signature tune, There's No Business Like Show Business, gave the patient crowd the excitement of a first night.

Councillor Cecil Bass, on behalf of the Johannesburg Civic Theatre Foundation, did me the great honour of making me a Patron of the Civic; Market Theatre chairman Grahame Lindop ended his deft and gracious address by making me the first ever Friend of the Market Theatre with tickets for all the Market shows for the rest of my life; and many further presentations and speeches were made - by former executive director of the Civic Theatre, Michal Grobbelaar and by Sun International's Michael Lovegrove; by actor Patrick Mynhardt and radio personality Paddy O'Byrne; and, of course, by Mike Egan, who 4 conferred on me the status of the first and only Patron of the organisation I had founded. There were tributes on a very personal note, too, such as that from Iona Myburgh who made a presentation on behalf of the Computicket staff, some two hundred and fifty of them.

I reflected that there is, indeed, no business like show business.

Recollecting this momentous occasion in tranquillity, what really surprised me that afternoon was to learn that I was variously and widely perceived as 'Mr Show Biz', 'the father confessor to the profession' and a 'doctor' with the cure for all box-office ailments- this from Michal Grobbelaar, who, in a fulsome flight of fancy, seemed to think that in opening up what he called 'a new sphere of marketing for live theatre', I had single-handedly made the theatre a going concern. And for the young Barry Ronge, sitting in the Chesa Coffee Bar back in the Sixties and watching the comings and goings across the arcade, Show Service had been 'a tiny little window into a large and fabulous world'.

Well, it was a large and fabulous world, and one that I entered with no thought other than to follow my boyhood dream of working within the theatrical profession. Everything I did sprang from my passionate desire to see the theatre flourish and its audiences grow, and I foresaw none of the results. I was just, as I told a TV interviewer, 'a boy from Benoni who got tired of standing in queues'.

At home, the party over, I looked back on the rich harvest I had reaped from the seeds that were sown in my youth, and couldn't help wondering what my parents, Ray and Harry Tucker, and my maternal grandparents, Mannie and Malka Goldstein, would have made of it all. I couldn't get them out of my mind.
CHAPTER SIX

PART TWO

ONE STOP SHOPPING
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

ON LINE

The years 1970 and 1971 merge in my memory as the great watershed years in my career. It was during this time that I pursued, and finally achieved - through seizing an unexpected and lucky opportunity as much as through determination- my goal of setting up what proved to be the first fully centralised and integrated computerised box-office system in the world.

The decade began with a continuation of discussions with SAAN, represented by John King, Graham English and Barry Sinclair, about the possibility of introducing the Ticketron System in South Africa. Ticketron had opened in London, prompting a widely reported remark from Peter Cadbury, chairman of Britain's largest ticket agency, Keith Prowse, that 'No computer can tell you if a play is unsuitable for children or the vicar! '.

It was amazing that somebody in his position appeared to think that a dumb machine would serve the public without human intervention, or realise that cashiers would be manning the desks, using computer terminals only as a means to faster and more efficient selling. In March 1970, John King and I went to New York, where we were joined by Andre Pieterse, to take another look at Ticketron. I remained unimpressed with their system and, deciding to divorce myself entirely from any further consideration of using it, left King and Pieterse and went to take a look at the Computicket operation in London.

The Tottenham Court Road offices were a replica of the luxurious New York set-up and my discussions with managing director Geoffrey Naylor also smacked of déjà vu as I listened to him explain the same problems that Nick Mayo had outlined in New York the previous year. The few London branches were quite successful in selling unreserved tickets for pop concerts, but, as in the USA, the theatres would not hand over their tickets. It was a vicious circle, costing a fortune and presenting a problem that I felt confident I wouldn't have in Johannesburg where Show Service held the tickets for most managements and venues. I returned no further on to be contacted again by David Abramson who was trying to secure the patent rights for Computicket South Africa. And there was a new player on the scene, a computer specialist company called Sigma Data. Owned by Tiger Oats (whose chairman Rudy Frankel I knew personally), Sigma Data was the brainchild of Michael Faktor, Aubrey Cohen, Martin Ossip and Michael Nathanson - four enterprising men, all aged under thirty and destined to become millionaires as a result of their work internationally.

Mike Faktor was the most aggressive of this team and had read about Computicket in Fortune magazine. The Sigma Data quartet was also well-informed on the progress of Computicket and was keen to get involved with it in South Africa. I was fascinated and bemused to discover that so many people were running after a system that was programmed only to sell unreserved tickets and was of no use to South African requirements in its present form. Be that as it may, it emerged that Sigma Data were willing and able to supply the necessary computer hardware to operate the system. They proposed using their IBM 360/40 machine, which had back-up; and further foresaw that they could transfer the system to the faster, more powerful IBM 370 by 1972. At this stage, we got no further than this initial discussion.

Despite the shortcomings of Computicket, I was convinced that it was the best option to pursue and, with Abramson and Sigma Data both courting me, I decided to send Aubrey Louw to London in September to report back with his opinion. He returned with the information that, in the six months since my meetings with Geoffrey Naylor, the system had grown to the extent of operating twenty-eight terminals within a thirty-mile radius of central London. They were now selling a few tickets for certain West End Theatres, and booking for jazz clubs, football, tennis, and the circus. Although their tiny theatre allocations were growing, they were using mainly record shops as outlets (Aubrey thought this misguided), and their sales were averaging not much more than a paltry 2 000 tickets per month.

Aubrey also found that the cost of advertising, aimed at drawing customers away from traditional booking outlets, was substantial. On the positive side, the system had been debugged of a lot of problems that I had found so disheartening. In his written report, Aubrey concluded that he felt Computicket, suitably adapted to our needs, would be the ideal answer to taking the drudgery out of ticket-selling and that the instant information and statistics on tap would be a boon to managements. Furthermore, he shared my conviction that taking the box office into the suburbs via branch terminals would enhance the buying of tickets - both for the customer and for the theatre and cinema managements who could look forward to a consequent increase in sales.

In sum, Aubrey strongly recommended ongoing negotiations with Computicket. It all looked good on paper, but for one crucial factor - we couldn't afford to buy it. Once again, I put the matter on hold and carried on as usual.

Then, on 27 December, David Abramson asked me to attend an urgent meeting with Peter Campbell. They had learned that IPC (International Publishing Corporation) in London was involved in takeover negotiations with the Daily Mirror group. In this proposed merger, approximately 120 loss-making companies in the Mirror group would close. The twentieth company on the list was Computicket, whose staff had been told of the closure on Christmas Eve.

At the meeting, though no formal company or partnership existed, Abramson, Campbell and I agreed that efforts should be made to use the imminent demise of Computicket to our own advantage in trying to acquire the system. If we succeeded, it was also vital to procure the services of their team to write a programme tailormade for us. At last the system might be available at a price we could afford.

We met again on 31 December. Clearly, someone had to go to London immediately. Remembering the old adage that opportunity knocks but once, I again found myself spending New Year's Eve on a plane -this time to put in a bid for a system which didn't yet do the work we needed it to do and with little idea of how we would finance it. We all, however, realised that if we wanted it, this was the moment.

On 1 January 1971, I again met with Geoffrey Naylor, who behaved as though he were in the bargaining position. As I was quite evidently the only potential buyer, I was frank in pointing out to him that IPC should bless my arrival. If we reached an agreement, at least Computicket would get something back on their huge investment.

During discussions, I was elated to learn that there was still a nucleus of the system's engineering and operating team left at Computicket in the hope of just such a contingency as I represented. These people could be the key to my success. Geoffrey supplied me with all the literature on the system and its machinery, which had been custom-made for Computicket in the US by the Wyle Corporation of Boston, and we negotiated provisional figures for a buy-out.

Back in Johannesburg, I put Abramson and Peter Campbell in the picture. The country was seeing a steady expansion of the entertainment industry, which could only benefit further from streamlined marketing. Furthermore, between myself, Aubrey Louw and the experienced cashiers at Show Service we had, unlike the Computicket outlets overseas, a team of experts in handling box-office requirements- dealing with the public and with managements, first-hand knowledge of the venues, and experience of advertising, public relations and marketing.

Aubrey and I could concentrate on marketing the new operation while leaving the electronics to the computer experts.

Peter Campbell, our own computer wizard, left a few days after my return to interview the remaining members of the London Computicket team, choose his personnel and offer them a period of work with us. It was an ideal time to recruit: London was bitterly cold, unemployment was rife, and these people were about to be out of a job. Aside from salaries in a currency that was then negotiable in the rest of the world, our offer included bringing their families here and housing them for the duration. Despite their evident opinion that we were mad to be bidding for the system in the first place, they needed little persuasion. Their arrival was set for mid-March.

It was now imperative to put finance in place. David Abramson and I went to see senior executive Gerry Muller at Nedbank, Fox Street. After fifteen years of banking there, I was confident of his co-operation. In the event, he had checked neither my personal nor my company files and laughed the entire computerisation scheme out of his office. No assistance would be forthcoming from Nedbank. It was a blow, and I was tempted to change banks as I had done back in 1956.

The situation was very serious. Air tickets had to be issued and deposits paid on accommodation for the London team. I was carrying the cost of this and all else that was necessary to make the team members and their families welcome and comfortable. More costly still, the equipment for which we had negotiated (software, terminals, printers, spare parts, network control machinery) had to be paid for and shipped to South Africa for installation.

In assessing our position, it became clear that if we brought Sigma Data into the equation, we would have a readymade computing facility in their IBM 360/40 to which we could immediately attach the Computicket terminals - a highly desirable option given the astronomical cost of buying our own machine.

I had to make the pieces of this jigsaw puzzle fit. If computerisation was to be viable, it was imperative to bring the cinema-releasing organisations, the biggest players on the entertainment scene, on board. I also felt strongly that financing should come from within the entertainment industry rather than from the newspaper owners. It was also a matter of urgency to have Computicket operative before the inevitable introduction of television in South Africa.

The cost would be just short of RI 000 000.

If we could tie up the loose ends satisfactorily, we would have a proposal for Barry Sinclair of Kinekor to present to his board. Satbel, the owners of Kinekor and Ster were not enamoured of computers, though Kinekor (unlike Ster) did have a computer system in place in their administrative offices. This, plus Sinclair's grasp of computer possibilities, convinced Peter Camp bell that Kinekor was the best route to take.

I arranged a confidential meeting in Cape Town with Dr Wassenaar who, as chairman of Sanlam, the major shareholders -in Satbel, was the most powerful man in the conglomerate. I pressed my ideas of changing the face of cinema marketing through computerised booking and left him cautiously intrigued. Shortly thereafter, I was invited to meet Johan Marais, CEO of Satbel. After innumerable meetings with Marais and board member Joe Pamensky, Satbel agreed to join this venture. Everything, it seemed, was almost in place.

It was David Abramson's stated desire and intention to become chairman of the new Computicket board. However, David's company, National Fund Investments, launched with much fanfare on the Stock Exchange, had been one of those to suffer in the 1969 stock market crash and Johan Marais wouldn't entertain the idea of any involvement with him. He was eventually paid to relinquish his rights in Computicket.

Negotiations were at last concluded. The first shareholders were finalised as Satbel (representing Ster and Kinekor), Sigma Data, Peter Campbell and myself. Johan Marais was appointed chairman and I managing director, with sole discretion in the running of the service- a situation which, happily, remained intact. As the acknowledged ear of the entertainment managements, I was left free to operate as I always had and Satbel never attempted to interfere. The balance of the board of directors was made up of Barry Sinclair, Graham English, Mike Faktor, Charl de Kock (Satbel) and Peter Campbell, who was also appointed financial director.

Thus, Computicket, the fruit of seventeen years of hard labour at Show Service, was born in South Africa. Show Service, retaining its name and its premises at Rand Central, would remain in existence until 1985, functioning as the first, and later one of several, city centre outlets for Computicket.

In mid-March 1971, almost exactly a year since my first abortive meeting with Geoffrey Naylor, the London computer team arrived in Johannesburg. The party, including wives, numbered eleven, and there were three children. The working team was headed by Peter Stanbrook and included Tony Grimshaw, the only member to settle here permanently. He was still working as a consultant for Computicket in 1997.

Peter Stanbrook was charged with having the re-programmed system ready within six months and instituted a plan of action which was rigidly adhered to. In accordance with my instructions, the team's first task was to spend a period of time at Show Service, watching and listening to the public and the staff, making a close study of our multiplicity of requirements. Even the basic procedure of customers looking at plans and choosing their seats was completely foreign to them. They spent day after day at Show Service observing the complexities of manual booking and acquainting themselves with the (to them) strange arrangements regarding preferential membership bookings, discounting, and subscription concerts.

We leased offices at Medical City on the corner of Jeppe and Eloff Streets. Aubrey Louw shifted from Show Service to Medical City and was joined by Peter Campbell. My immediate concern was marketing. We conceived a scheme in line with my determination to market entertainment like any other consumer product by charging shopping centres a rental to house a Computicket terminal in their precinct. As we saw it, this facility for customers in the suburbs would prove a magnet, attracting them to other purchases within the centre. The idea was initially vilified in the press but, on implementation, proved successful.

Local staff were recruited: consultants to train terminal operators, network controllers, terminals maintenance engineers. A vitally important aspect for the British team to comprehend and programme was how to 'dress' a house, that is, how to offer the best seats first and the worst last so that your audience spreads from the centre outwards rather than being scattered all over the place when a house isn't full. This was a very complicated problem which was only addressed overseas many years later. Stanbrook's people also had to take into account that if a customer's specifically requested seats were unavailable, the computer should offer the closest available alternative.

After months of intensive work, Peter Stanbrook and the team were ready to demonstrate the Computicket system. I invited the press to Sigma Data's computer premises at the Catholic Centre, Saratoga Avenue, Doornfontein, on Friday, 11 June 1971. Our guests were suitably impressed, and the next day The Star ran Percy Baneshik's story on the front page, informing the public of the launching of a 'space-age' ticket scheme. Reports on the demonstration were carried in virtually every newspaper in the country, on radio, and in certain London papers. The news even made Variety in the States.

On Saturday, 12 June, delighted with The Star coverage, Graham and I set out in good spirits to join my old school friend, architect Harold Schneider, and his wife Leah, for dinner. We got home at midnight to a shrilling telephone and the shocking news that my father had been involved in a serious accident. I rushed to the Boksburg/Benoni Hospital where I learnt that he had died.

He and my mother had been to see Kiss Me Kate at the Benoni Town Hall. While they were crossing Prince's Avenue to their home, a drunken motor-cyclist had struck my father down, killing him. Thankfully, my mother, who was walking slightly ahead of him, was unhurt.

I will never know whether he ever saw the publicity announcing the launch of Computicket which, I knew, would have banished any remaining doubts about my career and would have filled him with pride.

My brother Sam and his wife Barbara flew in from London over the weekend, and my father was buried on Monday. As a prominent leader of the Benoni Jewish community and President of the United Hebrew Institutions (UHI) for fifteen years, my father's life was honoured in death by his being the first person to have the burial service start in the synagogue. From there, his coffin was carried to the hearse by past presidents of the UHI, and on arrival at the cemetery was escorted by the council of the UHI, as well as representatives of many Jewish organisations, his Masonic lodge, his family and close friends, to a special section of the burial ground reserved for those who have given outstanding services to the community.

Over 1 000 people attended the two-hour funeral service for Harry Tucker, a great tribute to a self-made man of courage and integrity.

The motorcyclist responsible was charged with drunken driving and fined R 50.

After the traditional Jewish week of mourning, I returned to work, desperately sad, but resolved to honour my father by making a success of my new venture.

The board of Computicket gave the green light for launching the system. Being a dedicated sentimentalist, I chose 16 August, the date on which Show Service had opened in 1954, as the day on which we would open to the public. The team worked desperately hard to meet this deadline by which terminals were to be installed and ready to operate at Show Service, at African Life which was the central office of Kinekor, and at Ster City which housed the main cinema complex of Ster Films. Our marketing manager Dan Liebenberg also signed contracts to install terminals at Highpoint in Hillbrow, and at Levison's Man's Shop opposite the Stock Exchange in Hollard Street.

Although, in theory, the system was ready to go, we couldn't know how it would operate in practice and, accordingly, we began on a very small scale, servicing six cinemas: the three in Ster City, Ster in Orange Grove, the 20th Century and His Majesty's. We were planning on a regular, ongoing expansion of terminal outlets, and therefore cinemas.

The very first films for which we took advance bookings (they were opening on 25 August) were, ironically, minor and unmemorable- Big Fauss and Little Halsey at Orange Grove, and The Raging Moon at His Majesty's. Nonetheless, on 16 August, a historic day in my life, I made certain that I was the very first person to use the system. First thing in the morning, at Show Service, terminal operator Marcia Taylor sold me a ticket for Big Fauss and Little Halsey, the first ticket ever to be sold in South Africa via a computerised system.

As yet there were no computer terminals in the cinemas themselves so Computicket had to send the plan over for the evening performance so that the cinema cashier could see what was available to sell manually to customers on the door. This combination of methods was responsible for several teething problems, some more severe than others.

I went to His Majesty's on 25 August to await the arrival of the seating plan for the first 'Computicket' performance of The Raging Moon at 8 p.m. (in those days there was only one evening showing), but by 6.30 p.m. nothing had arrived. I made an anxious phone call to Sigma Data who assured me the plan was on its way. Eventually, I saw a messenger cycling down Commissioner Street at a leisurely pace. He handed over the plan, which I discovered was the wrong print-out and I had to race off in my car to collect the right one. The manager of His Majesty's wasn't impressed, and neither was I. Here we were, pioneering a revolutionary system designed by and for the technological age, and everything was dependent on a piece of paper and a bike messenger.

This first minor 'glitch' was as nothing compared to what happened four months later, on New Year's Eve, 1971. For once I wasn't on a plane, but when I arrived at the 20th Century cinema to see Diamonds are Forever, I rather wished I had been.

Being New Year's Eve, the 9 p.m. showing of this popular James Bond film had been sold out in advance via Computicket, but when the cashier at the cinema received the plan, she considered it impossible that no seats were available. She obviously knew nothing about Computicket and, taking matters into her own hands, ignored the printout, settled herself with a fresh plan and tickets and, with no consultation, began selling tickets to door customers.

By the time I arrived there was chaos. The ushers were totally bewildered by the double bookings and I rushed off to find manager Brian Thomas (whose wife Sheila was to join Computicket in 1972 and become staff supervisor for most of the Transvaal network).

Brian and I went into the box office, saw what had happened and put a stop to the cashier's activities. Brian had the unenviable task of persuading the cash customers, by means of bribery with a refund plus complimentary tickets for another show, to vacate their seats to the Computicket holders. I thought of my trip to London a year to the day previously, and the immensely hard work, intricate planning and vast investment that had gone into making Computicket a reality and was appalled to see how easily it could come unstuck through human error.

But back to August. In our first week, our five terminals sold 1 216 cinema tickets. Our service charge ranged between five and ten cents a ticket, and by 28 August, this figure had risen to 4 029 tickets per week. In September we added a sixth terminal, to operate in conjunction with our manual service at the Belfast in Rosebank, and October saw a new branch at Total Centre in Braamfontein. By the end of October, our weekly sales were approaching the 10 000 mark, but old habits die hard, and the majority of these were still bought at the booking offices most familiar to the public- Show Service, African Life, and the Belfast.

By November we were selling nearly 19 000 tickets per week, with a new terminal opening at Darras Centre in Kensington. In December we opened branches at Rand Park Centre in Blackheath, at Bryanston Shopping Centre, and in Kempton Park. In December we sold 110 000 tickets. It was beginning to seem possible that we would meet our target of establishing convenient terminals throughout the Transvaal, but my personal goal of servicing live theatre had yet to be realised.

In October, Pieter Toerien, the first theatre management to express interest, asked for a demonstration of the system. He immediately saw that if his booking was computerised, it would spread his facility and thereby expand his customer base. The following year he would, indeed, become our first 'live' client to go online. Meanwhile, we were still on a learning curve, treading gently, and didn't approach the managements. We knew there were still faults in the system which would have to be addressed and, until they were sorted out, Show Service continued as the central, and only, office for handling live entertainment bookings, dealing with them manually as before.

Immediately after Computicket went live, we received a letter from the Office of the Price Controller stating that we could not add the service charge to our ticket prices. We replied that this charge had already been made for some years on advance cinema tickets at the African Life booking office, and no objections had been raised. A fortnight later, the Controller approved the charge but forbade any increase without prior permission from his office.

The launch of Computicket in 1971 coincided with the start of the flight to the suburbs. People were, increasingly, moving further north, which would see an explosion of shopping centres. In an interview I said, 'Outlying areas have become more populated and as a result of the better entertainment offered and the stimulus given by the formation of the performing arts councils, the public living in these areas are demanding the facility of advance booking in such far-out areas as Hyde Park, Bryanston and Sandown.' Soon, they would have them and, in due course, so would the whole country.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

THE SHOW MUST GO ON

The negotiations for, and the subsequent acquisition and installation of, Computicket during 1970 and 1971 served to double my workload: my activities as managing director of Show Service continued in parallel and as before. Outside of the boardrooms concerned with computerisation, the entertainment industry remained untouched by any ideas of change and shows flowed into all available venues.

PACT and TRUK continued to provide the backbone of serious theatre, opera and ballet during this period. In 1970, two of François Swart's productions stood out- Shakespeare's King John with Ken Leach in the lead, and Ampie, which was a major commercial success. That year, too, Leonard Schach directed Lang Dag reis na die Nag, an Afrikaans translation of Long Day's Journey into Night, with Schalk Jacobsz as James Tyrone. Athol Fugard directed his own Boesman and Lena and People are Living There, both starring Cape Town actors Yvonne Bryceland and Glyn Day and jointly presented by PACT, CAPAB and Phoenix Players.

In 1971, PACT highlights included Much Ado About Nothing which brought Helen Bourne from London to play an award-winning Beatrice, the especially successful Siener in die Suburbs, a tour of Patrick Mynhardt's A Sip of Jerepigo, and two heavyweight productions from Leonard. These were Paul Zindel's The Effect of Gamma Rays on Man-in the-Moon Marigolds, starring Marjorie Gordon and future director Janice Honeyman as mother and daughter respectively, and The Case of J Robert Oppenheimer. This last had been branded 'communist' by the Administrator of the Transvaal in 1965 and was forced to sit on the shelf for six years. When it saw the light of day, John Hayter played the title role of the controversial and brilliant atomic scientist.

There were signs of managements joining forces to maximise resources. Langford-Inglis and Hymie Udwin's Academy Theatre Productions collaborated with PACT to present the distinguished British actor Max Adrian in his one-man show of readings from George Bernard Shaw at the Alexander in June. At the same theatre, Margaret Inglis, Robert Langford and Hymie revived The Old Ladies, with Peggy, Zoe Randall, and Bess Finney who, away from the theatre, made a sterling contribution in her work with the black community. This choice of play, a dated piece about old age and loneliness, reflected the paucity of material available to South African managements. Not that the partnership fared any better at the Brooke where, in collaboration with Brian, they presented John Whiteley in The Au Pair Man, a mildly avant-garde piece in which Peggy was hideously miscast as a young girl and which flopped badly.

Since marrying Robert Langford, Peggy, in addition to playing several roles for their own management, had directed Michael Atkinson in The Lady's Not for Burning and her old friend and partner Nan Munro in The Importance of Being Earnest, both for NAPAC in Durban.

The Academy Theatre of Laughter continued along the path that had led to its immense popularity. Rex Garner directed The Lionel Touch for the Academy at the Alexander with a cast that included Joe Stewardson (best actor award-winner the previous year for his King Lear), Vivienne Drummond, Kenneth Baker and Diane Appleby (later Mrs Joe Stewardson). Kenneth had arrived in South Africa from Britain ten years previously, and Diane, who had come out from England for Chase Me Comrade, remained on to become a long-running and valuable member of Rex's stable. The Academy's next, She's Done It Again, was stage-managed by Tammy Bonell, later the second Mrs Rex Garner, and Rex also directed the hit Stand by Your Bedouin in 1970.

Pieter Toerien and Basil Rubin brought Hermione Gingold from New York and Joan Heal from London to play Noël Coward's Fallen Angels at the Alexander. The extrovert Miss Gingold's substantial career had included the famous war-time 'Sweet and Low' revues in London, which had made her a star. She had settled in America, and her performance opposite Maurice Chevalier in the film of Gigi made her widely known.

Entertaining, exhausting and shrewdly feigning eccentricity (she was nothing of the kind), Hermione was petrified of flying and travelled to Cape Town by boat from New York. The journey took nearly a month. Once here, she displayed a healthy appetite, and I invited her to our home with Pieter Toerien one Sunday evening. She had expressed a desire for 'bangers and mash' so, doing my best to oblige, I bought kosher sausages and Graham made mashed potatoes. We also served bagels and watched transfixed as she packed a bagel, not with sausage, but with lots of mushy potatoes. She ate very noisily, dropping bits of potato all over the carpet. She had dreadful teeth and, with impeccable timing, would surprise and alarm one by taking out her front tooth, saying, 'Welcome to the Black Hole of Calcutta'.

Hermione was, however, a stimulating guest, who kept us in stitches with her hilarious stories about the several productions of Fallen Angels in which she had played on both sides of the Atlantic. I saw her for the last time in New York in 1977 when she was appearing as the narrator in Side by Side by Sondheim at the Music Box Theatre.

Ah, yes! I remember it well ...

At a revamped Intimate Theatre with a new seating capacity of 235, Pieter, Basil, and Shirley Firth gave us Anthony Shaffer's ingenious twohanded thriller Sleuth, for which they brought actors Ralph Michael and Nicholas Arner, and director Warren Jenkins from London. Also, from London for Toerien/Rubin at the Civic, came director Anthony Sharp with London stars Cicely Courtneidge, her husband Jack Hulbert, Roger Livesey, his wife Ursula Jeans, David Kossoff and Robertson Hare in the comedy Oh, Clarence, with a local supporting cast. After this production, Toerien and Rubin dissolved their partnership, and Pieter carried on solo, as well as in partnership with Shirley Firth.

In 1971, Toerien/Firth presented Who Killed Santa Claus? with English stars, John Justin and Naomi Chance, directed by Anthony Sharp, and Don't Start Without Me, directed by Roger Redfarn and starring the urbane English actor Jeremy Hawk (ex-husband of Hermione Gingold's co-star, Joan Heal). This management also staged No Sex Please, We're British, which had run forever in London. Director Allen Davis came from London, together with actor Billy Boyle for the lead role originally created by Michael Crawford. Shirley Firth, an accomplished cook and hostess, gave a memorable dinner party where we met Alien and another treasured friendship was made.

Also, in 1971, Pieter Toerien, flying solo, teamed Heather Lloyd-Jones with a trio of imports- Paul Massie, Margaretta Scott and Mervyn Johns for Ronald Millar' s Abelard and Helӧise. Audiences flocked to this medieval tragedy of doomed love, thanks to Pieter's judicious publicity campaign which left Johannesburg agog with speculation as to whether or not Heather would appear nude on the Civic Theatre stage. Pieter has used the nudity ploy many times since, and it always works.

In 1957 West Side Story had exploded onto Broadway. Based on an idea by Jerome Robbins, inspired by Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet, the show (book Arthur Laurents, music Leonard Bernstein, lyrics Stephen Sondheim) elevated the American musical to a new dimension.

In common with every other management, Hymie Udwin had been chasing the rights for years. Finally, after judgement was given in the copyright case in 1969, the rights were granted to Hymie's Academy Theatre productions and, in 1970, South Africa got to see the show. Auditions were held in several overseas cities. From the States came Michael Harrison and Patricia Arnell to play the lovers, Tony and Maria; fourteen cast members were drawn from Canada, Australia and the UK, and fifteen were local, among them Lynton Burns, who had toured with Luisillo's Spanish Dance Company, and Richard Loring. Wendy de la Harpe conducted the auditions in London, where she persuaded Lynton Burns to return home and engaged Delia Sainsbury and her husband Keith Galloway. Delia and Keith stayed in South Africa and became clients of mine when they opened small theatres in Johannesburg and, later, in Cape Town on the Waterfront.

American Kip Andrews (who had staged the dances for Fiddler on the Roof for Taubie) directed and choreographed the production in sets designed by Anthony Farmer. Paul Jannsen, later to be head of entertainment at Sun City, was the stage director, and the lively, energetic and expert Joy Raphael was in charge of public relations. Lorraine Jaffit-Greenberg, who had been my personal assistant at Show Service for a couple of years, had now joined Hymie and acted as production secretary. Lorraine's sister Gail replaced her as my P.A. and stayed for eleven years. She left Computicket to become a full-time mother, but the lure of show business called her back, and she formed an actors' agency in partnership with Lorraine. Today, as Gail Jaffit-Leibman, she is well known as a major theatrical publicist.

West Side Story opened not, as might have been expected, at the Civic, but at the Alexander, and lived up to its reputation. Such was its success that Hymie Udwin decided to extend the run. He made the disastrous mistake of moving the show to the Empire, four times the size of the Alexander, and nothing worked. The show left for Cape Town where Michael Harrison, a disciple of 'The Method', was moved to rediscover his inner being and disappeared for a few days. Richard Loring stepped in as Tony and made a big impression.

A musical success of a different kind came along with the JODS production of Canterbury Tales at the Civic Theatre. The advertising warned that the show, based on Chaucer, was 'not suitable for children', and it was doing poor business. The headmaster of an Afrikaans high school on the West Rand, a Mr Riekert, who had obviously not read the ads, brought his pupils to see the show in preference to permitting them a matric dance, of which he totally disapproved. He was quoted in the paper as saying 'no good can come of young people dancing together'.

The school party, over a hundred of them, duly arrived- and the fun began. The bawdier the show became, the more the kids loved it. Mr Riekert was beside himself, and we watched in amazement at interval as this almost hysterical man and his staff tried to drag the kids into the school bus before the second half. He didn't succeed in getting them all out in time and had to wait outside till the final curtain for the rest of them. In But the Melody Lingers On, the show's director Geoffrey Sutherland tells how, while the headmaster was trying to drag pupils out of the theatre, the rest were in the bus lustily singing one of the opening numbers called 'I Have a Noble Cock'.

This extraordinary incident garnered huge publicity which turned a box-office nightmare into a dream come true. The public rushed to book for seats that JODS couldn't give away the previous week, the show went on to Cape Town, and JODS made a huge profit.

Four years after Joan Brickhill and Louis Burke's first record-breaking Minstrel Scandals for African Theatres, Stodel asked the pair to conceive another show to be called Brickhill-Burke's All-New, Non-Stop Minstrel Scandals. Stodel signed Australian comedian Lucky Grills, unknown in South Africa, to star with Joan. (Joan stole the show).

Joan and Louis once again devised, designed, directed, choreographed and lit the entire production. Their incredible range of talent and variety of styles had propelled them to an irreplaceable position in South African theatre. The soloists in this show represented a collective powerhouse of talent, among them Aubrey Ellis, Jean Dell, Barbara Thompson and Ferdie Uphof. Barbara became a client of ours when she operated Club 58 in Hillbrow, while Ferdie became synonymous with Taubie Kushlick's productions of Jacques Brel.

The new Minstrel Scandals began in October 1970 at the Empire, where, alas, it came to mark the sad demise of this great theatre which had opened in 1936 and seen such a parade of riches. At the end of March, the show and the theatre closed. In due course, the building was pulled down and the massive Kine Centre cinema complex opened on its site in 1974. Over the years, Joan and Louis had the misfortune several times to be associated with the closure of great theatres. They produced the final shows at the Alhambra in Cape Town, the Colosseum in East London, The Grand in Pietermaritzburg, and, in Pretoria, both the Opera House and the Capitol.

The irrepressible Yango John, always on the lookout for venues, had presented Frank Sinatra Jr in 1969 at the Gold Room of the President Hotel. In 1970, he again took the Gold Room to present The Tommy Finnan Revue, direct from Las Vegas. The show was saucy and lavish, with its main feature a bevy of gorgeous, high-kicking girls clad in a few feathers. 'What live shows need in South Africa is a little life,' said Yango, who sold dinner and dancing together with the revue.

The following year, Yango announced the forthcoming appearance of the blind singer, songwriter and guitarist Jose Feliciano. Interest was enormous, and advance booking had reached fantastic proportions when Feliciano cancelled his visit. Refunding the public's money was becoming something of a time-consuming habit.

Yango had a different kind of trauma to deal with when the cast of La Grande Eugene arrived. This transvestite revue was the rage of Paris, where he had seen the show and signed it for South Africa. Meanwhile, the agent had substituted a second cast and Yango found himself welcoming a group of the most bizarre looking dregs of the Paris underworld. Determined not to lose face, Yango added some South Africans to this motley crew, called in an expert to glue things together, and presented the show at the President Hotel.

Despite the boycott, there was no shortage of live attractions, and managements were scrabbling for venues. Cape Town-based impresarios were desperate for Johannesburg theatres, not least among them the busy Quibell Brothers who, in the first year of the decade, presented shows at the Colosseum, Empire and Civic Theatres.

A major attraction at the Colosseum was The Bachelors, the vocal group who specialised in revamping 'golden oldies'. All three guys, Coneth and Declan Cluskey and John Stokes, were Dublin-born and had started recording in 1962, producing their first hit, 'Charmaine' which remained in the Top Ten for nineteen weeks. They were very likeable, and since they enjoyed golf, riding and water skiing, it was easy to keep them entertained.

This was also the year that the Everly Brothers performed at the Empire, and Percy Sledge hit Johannesburg with force. For fear of having the tour banned, Ronnie Quibell kept Sledge's arrival under wraps, only alerting the press two hours before he landed in the country. The great soul singer (whose hits included 'When a Man Loves a Woman') was besieged and grilled for nearly five hours by journalists and broadcasters. He had been booked for a two-week season in Cape Town but was so rapturously received that he stayed for two months before arriving in Johannesburg to equal adoration. Sledge was a great guy with a wicked sense of humour who managed to sidestep political questions. Although black, he was totally unconcerned about coming here: 'I'm here to make money and to let my fans see me, nothing more,' he said. At the opening night party, Percy Sledge joined Percy Baneshik, Percy Neppe and myself, in a unique gathering of four Percys.

Audiences of all races poured in to see the charismatic Sledge and, on both sides of the segregation divide, they loved him. When questioned about Black Power he answered, 'Man, I love everybody, sing for everybody- black, yellow, white, anything. It makes no difference.'

At The Civic the Quibells went into legitimate theatre, bringing home South Africa's export Sidney James for the first time in twenty-three years to star in Wedding Fever; and a complete London cast headed by Jack Douglas in Don't Tell the Wife. They also presented Russian singer Ivan Rebroff, and brought back Caterina Valente, together with the great jazz saxophonist Stan Getz and his quartet.

Comedy continued at the Brooke, where the programme included a revival of Worm's Eye View; and Jerry Lewis, the brilliant American comedian whose partnership on screen with Dean Martin had brought him international stardom, came to the Colosseum. Opening night included an unscheduled brawl. Impresario Arnold Steele had withheld PR Hazel Feldman's payment and got in a row with her husband Sam about it just before the show was due to begin. This happened on the stage where, amidst shouting audible to the front rows, Sam punched Arnold, then Jerry punched Arnold, and then the curtain rose ...

During 1970 and 1971 the serious side of musical culture was continually enriched by the artists who came for Musica Viva and the JMS. Regular favourites such as Tamas Vasary and Nicanor Zabaleta returned, while among the newcomers were The Alma Piano Trio, blind Italian pianist Alberta Colombo, Spanish Flamenco guitarist Pedro Sler, The Wurttemburg Chamber Ensemble, and Brazilian pianist Jacques Klein.

The highlight, however, was a tour by Elisabeth Schwarzkopf in November which I agreed to handle for Peta Fisher on the same basis as I had taken care of Victoria de los Angeles. German by birth, Austrian by nationalisation, married to English recording executive Walter Legge and resident in Switzerland, this great operatic soprano, the supreme interpreter of Mozart and Richard Strauss, was equally eminent on the concert platform, where she specialised in the lieder of Schubert, Schumann, Brahms, Hugo Wolf and Mahler.

Despite no lack of ego - when asked to appear on the famous BBC radio programme 'Desert Island Discs' for which the guest selects eight favourite pieces of music, she chose eight of her own recordings - Schwarzkopf's serene nobility of presence and consummate professionalism made for a smooth and very successful tour. With Geoffrey Parsons once again at the piano, she unveiled her artistry which, aside from a truly ravishing voice, rested on her scrupulous observation of the composer's intentions.

After her first concert, given in Pretoria on 5 November, Madam Schwarzkopf dined at our home with Geoffrey and the Fishers, but she was conserving her voice for the next morning's rehearsal and conversation proved stilted. The evening was saved by her delight in a Guy' Fawkes fireworks display in the park fronting our townhouse. The tour took in Johannesburg, Bloemfontein, Durban, Stellenbosch and Cape Town, ending on 29 November.

In 1971, Taubie Kushlick celebrated forty years in the theatre and forty years of happy marriage with a production of Forty Carats starring Glynis Johns at the Alexander Theatre. In the programme notes for this occasion, Taubie had no hesitation in using a quote about herself that described her as a diamond, saying 'like this jewel it is her brilliance and sparkle that count'! British actress Glynis Johns (born in Pretoria when her actor-father Mervyn was on tour in South Africa) was a well-known star of stage, screen and TV, who had worked with many famous names from Laurence Olivier to Danny Kaye. Here, she was joined by Gordon Mulholland, Fiona Fraser and Peggy Inglis' son, James Leith.

At the Civic Theatre, JODS finally did Man of La Mancha and, later in 1971, Applause. A musical version of the famous Bette Davis film All About Eve, the latter starred Hollywood actress Janis Paige as Margo Channing (the Davis role) and Gay Lambert as Eve.

It was a most unhappy production on all counts. Janis Paige had made life difficult for the committee even before she arrived and was extremely put out when the opening was postponed for four days due to technical difficulties. Tony Farmer, by then the president of JODS, designed sets which were exciting but caused distressingly noisy scene changes; visiting American director Otto Pirchner disliked the dances choreographed by Geoffrey Sutherland, whereupon Geoffrey resigned and was replaced by Wendy de la Harpe. Three-and-a-half weeks into the run, audiences had dwindled to a handful and the JODS committee decided to close the show.

Applause marked the end of nine years of largely exciting JODS productions at the Civic Theatre, during which the Society had developed from a small elitist amateur outfit to the only company who could stage a musical emulating Broadway and the West End. JODS could also be credited with giving Anthony Farmer's extraordinary talents the opportunity to flower.

Liberace returned to South Africa, enjoying a sold-out season at the Colosseum. It seemed that the more outrageous he became on stage the more the public loved him. At the Academy, The Jockey Club Stakes starred British actors Geoffrey Sumner and Basil Lord, and director Ray Cooney directed Move over Mrs Markham which he had co-written with John Chapman, and which beat the record of Not Now Darling as the Academy's longest-running farce. In 1990 Pieter Toerien would revive it and set yet another record for the length of run.

On the cultural side of my life, the stand-out event of 1971 was the visit of Dame Margot Fonteyn to dance Sleeping Beauty, partnered by Attilio Lab is in a production by John Hart. During her several trips to South Africa since the Johannesburg Festival in 1956, we had always spent time together, cementing our friendship. On this occasion, there was a host of British artists in town at the same time as Margot, among them Glynis Johns, John Justin, Naomi Chance and John Hart.

Graham and I invited all of them, plus their managements and, in the case of the actors, supporting casts, to a party at our home after their shows one Saturday night. In retrospect, it was a foolish idea, since most of the guests only arrived after midnight. Graham, an excellent and imaginative cook, had prepared a splendid buffet, to be informed by Margot that she could only eat rare steak. Not one to be phased, Graham cut a generous slice off a fillet that, fortuitously, was in the fridge and, with a flourish, produced a perfect grill to order!

At this time, I had a bulldog, named Katie after my favourite American actress Katherine Hepburn. I had first met Katie Hepburn in 1960 after I saw her in Twelfth Night for the American Shakespeare Festival at Stratford, Connecticut. Leon Gluckman, who Miss Hepburn much admired, had given me the introduction and, despite her fearsome reputation, she was absolutely charming. I had renewed my acquaintance with her earlier in 1971, when I visited her in her dressing room after a performance of Coco on Broadway.

Five days before the late-night party, my Katie had given birth to eight puppies and Margot insisted on going upstairs to see the litter. Entranced, she gently lifted one of the puppies out of the basket, which provoked an aggressive reaction from Katie, who I was holding by the collar. Growling, Katie sprang from my grasp and made for Margot, who I managed to get out of her way in the nick of time. I replaced the puppy in the basket, relieved to have avoided the inevitable news headline, 'Bulldog Bitch Bites Ballerina'- inevitable because Katie was a regular in publicity pictures for which I posed with visiting artists.

That, I fear, was the liveliest and most interesting occurrence at the party!

During their 1971 season, PACT Opera brought out the English soprano Marie Collier and old favourite Tito Gobbi for a production of Tosca.

Gobbi loved his tours of South Africa. On his first visit in the Fifties, he delighted in talking to me about his house pet, a young lion-cub who would jump at his distinguished visitors and had to be restrained by his daughter who was detailed to catch the cub by the tail and lead him from the room. Marie Collier, alas, did not share the happy disposition of her co-star. A woman of striking beauty, blessed with a magnificent voice, she suffered from an unstable temperament which caused an often-glittering career to falter.

Learning one evening that she was all alone at the Tollman Towers Hotel, I invited Marie to our home for dinner. When I fetched her, she made a dramatic entrance down the foyer staircase, dressed exquisitely in a long white dress and black fur coat. Over dinner she picked at her food, pushing it round the plate, but allowed her glass to be refilled regularly. Her liquid diet, however, didn't detract from her stunning performances. We struck up a friendship, and I was sad to learn of her death, caused when she fell out of the window of her central London apartment- whether by accident or intention nobody will ever know.

Among the many diverse artists and groups brought here in 1971 by the JMS, none aroused more curiosity or caused more bemused controversy than the avant-garde German composer Karlheinz Stockhausen. Stockhausen, who had worked with conductor Pierre Boulez (who also came to South Africa), was a prime exponent of experimental music, known as musique concréte, using electronically produced dissonance and strange instruments. His innovative work with splicing, speed alteration, and other techniques which manipulate and distort natural sounds, led him to the directorship of the Studio for Electronic Music in Cologne.

Stockhausen was the darling of Seventies youth but, strangely enough, the more mature members of the Society snapped up the seats during the preferential booking period and the concerts were almost sold out when general booking opened.

I remember clearly the hundreds of young people in the foyer begging for tickets, while the middle-aged JMS members in the auditorium reacted to the weird sounds coming from the platform by rushing prematurely for the exit. As they left, their seats were instantly filled by the waiting students, who gave Stockhausen a standing ovation.

At the meeting of the South African Association of Theatrical Managements in September 1971, chairman Michal Grobbelaar presented his annual report in which he dwelt on the parliamentary amendments to the Publications and Entertainment Act, No 26, of 1963. These empowered the Board of Control to place age restrictions on stage productions, to prohibit entertainment on a stage in part (in other words, to censor the text); and to stop a performance on a stage without any prior warning by sending a telegram with instant effect.

The SAATM voted to submit a memorandum to the Commission of Enquiry into a Television Service in which several recommendations were made. It was suggested that, in view of anticipated loss of revenue to SAATM members when TV was introduced, the Commission consider some form of financial assistance to the performing arts. The memorandum also raised the matter of the playwrights' ban, deprecating the decision, but urging Association members 'to meet with playwrights and their agents and to deal with them with strength, dignity, honesty and conviction and with a unity of purpose, such purpose being the continued survival of professional theatre in South Africa.'
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

ALL ABOARD!

Although the programme with which we launched Computicket had been specifically tailored to our needs, nine months into the operation there were still deficiencies in the system. It did not, for example, fully take care of our accounting procedures or the demands of new situations for which we had no previous guidelines. Peter Campbell, therefore, called on Barry Callaghan, one of the original team, to rewrite the system, which he did in six weeks.

Branch expansion continued. All Ster and Kinekor cinemas in the areas where we had branches were on line, and, thanks to Pieter Toerien, the Intimate became the first live theatre to be bookable through Computicket. We were now in a position to offer a reliable service to theatre and concert managements, and in a relatively short time the Intimate was joined by the Adam Leslie Theatre, the Academy, the Alexander, the Brooke, the Colosseum, and PACT's Arena Theatre. The City Hall was on line, and Wembley Ice Rink, seating some three thousand people, became the biggest live entertainment venue to be programmed in to the system. Only the Civic, whose committee objected to our service charge, continued to swim against the tide for some months, leaving their clients to book at Show Service.

Although Computicket was now based at Medical City, I remained in my office at Show Service. I wanted to continue managing those aspects of the business which remained manual, and I was very reluctant to sacrifice the personal contact with customers and managements that had been the mainstay of my working life for so long. I also felt it necessary to watch the computer system at work, to monitor its efficiency and be on the spot when things went wrong. I found it very difficult in the first year or two to accept that our fate was in the hands of a machine. When everything worked smoothly it was miraculous and a joy; when bugs crept in to the complicated mechanism, it was a nightmare. One was powerless to do anything until the software team solved the problem, and I drove the computer room personnel mad with my endless phone calls at the first sign of a difficulty. I stayed on at Show Service until Computicket transferred its head office to National Board House in 1976.

In March 1972 Rudy Frankel of Tiger Oats, concerned at the vast capital outlay required by Sigma Data in order to progress, decided to sell Tiger's share to Anglo-American. The Sigma directorate resigned and all of them left South Africa to make successful careers overseas. This change in ownership of the computer bureau required Computicket to move its computer facility and network controller to the renamed Computer Sciences Sigma Ltd at Edelbond in Fox Street.

At Edelbond we were regarded as a nuisance client with our demands for priority, particularly on those occasions when the system went down. I was ruthless in this regard, even insisting on service ahead of the mining houses when necessary, and I knew that my attitude made me unpopular with certain CSSL staff. Our association with Anglo American's computer facility lasted for five uncomfortable years, during which it became clear that we had to control our own destiny. Never again could we afford to put ourselves at the mercy of somebody else's computer hardware.

The existence of Computicket was attracting attention and arousing interest in several countries overseas. During 1972 we were visited by Charles Vance, a member of the Society of West End Theatre Managements in London, who was very impressed with what he saw, and we received a delegation from India, the country with the world's largest cinemagoing population. Incredibly, these people spent six months here, filming every aspect of our operation, but had neglected to inform themselves of the situation in India where, as it turned out, there were no computer mainframes, so the whole thing was a waste of time. An unexpected and delightful visitor was the actor John McCallum, star of many a British comedy film and play in the 1940s and 50s, often opposite his wife Googie Withers. Resident in Australia where he was in management with J.C. Williamson, John was passing through on his way to London and was keen to see computerised booking in operation. He was the first of many Australian visitors to Computicket.

In April 1972 the S.A. Tennis Championships at Ellis Park became the first major sporting event to be booked by computer. For the first time black and coloured players were introduced into the draw although, unsurprisingly, there were very, very few of them. Within a couple of years, the great black American Arthur Ashe, together with Owen Williams, would set up the Black Tennis Foundation for the coaching of, and development of facilities for, black players. In 1972, however, one black player who did come to light was Mark Mathabane. Mark was befriended by big Stan Smith, the Wimbledon champion from Texas with whom he used to practise. Their relationship resulted in Smith getting Mark a tennis scholarship to a university in North Carolina. He settled in the States and became a journalist, and many years later wrote the bestseller Kaffir Boy.

If light entertainment was indisputably the favoured diet of the theatregoing public, it often took the form of comedy plays. Indeed, the legitimate theatre, largely with PACT as its serious-minded flagship, continued to utilise every possible venue. In 1972 PACT/TRUK, under the artistic directorship of François Swart, mounted an unbelievable total of twenty-four plays that included productions at the Alexander of Shakespeare's Richard III directed by Ken Leach (with Will Bernard), John Guare's haunting American play, The House of Blue Leaves, directed by Taubie Kushlick, John Hussey's production of the Peter Shaffer double bill Black Comedy and White Liars with Ruth Oppenheim and Eckard Rabe, and Truida Louw's Afrikaans production of Schiller's Maria Stuart. PACT called on the services of many directors, among them Robert Mohr, Cape Town actor-director Percy Sieff, and Robert Kirby whom they commissioned to write and direct his own play, Gentlemen, with Siegfried Mynhardt and Johan Malherbe.

For PACT at the Arena Theatre, Barney Simon pursued the ambitious and experimental policy for which he was known and admired, directing Jean Genet's The Maids with Molly Seftel, Barbara Itzler and Maya Obel. The Doornfontein Arena was a significant development in Johannesburg Theatre. PACT was coming in for periodic flak from the board and the public in Pretoria and, in 1970, objections were lodged to the words 'woman's period' and 'piss-pot' in A Winter Vacation, a new indigenous play by Don Maclennan, directed by François Swart. At this point, Eghard van der Hoven (son-in-law of the famous Hanekoms, Mathilda and Hendrik), the enlightened director of PACT who had succeeded Breytie Breytenbach, suggested to François and drama manager Mannie Manim that the company needed a space where they could try out new works and experimental plays, and give the actors an opportunity to stretch themselves out of the mainstream and away from the repressive control of Calvinist minds.

Accordingly, a search for premises got under way and Mannie found a primitive space in Doornfontein, Johannesburg, that belonged to the Technikon. It was leased free of charge to PACT, who installed seating and basic technical equipment to create a little theatre much like those that proliferate Off-off Broadway. The theatre opened on 15 July 1971 with the Afrikaans play, Die Hand vol Vere, and lasted in Doornfontein until November 1974 when the Technikon needed the premises. Barney Simon used the theatre for The Company and encouraged illicit black audiences into dress rehearsals and special private Sunday performances. During those three years, the Arena spawned talents such as Michael Richard, Eckard Rabe, Richard Haines, Annelise Weiland, Dorothy Ann Gould, Graham Hopkins, Reza de Wet and others. Among their highlights were El Grande de Coca-Cola, Where Has Tommy Flowers Gone? Enemy and Children of the Wolf. The last production was L'Amante Anglaise by Marguerite Duras.

With the help of Councillor Sam Moss new and better premises (a disused school) were found in Rosebank at a rental of R500 per annum, and the new Arena opened there in 1975.

In February Patrick Mynhardt's perennial favourite, A Sip of Jerepigo, played at the Brooke Theatre, and in March Brian Brooke- who was presenting fewer and fewer of his own plays - appeared with James White in the Kauffman and Hart classic, You Can't Take It With You, directed by John Hussey. Later in the year, Brian suffered a repeat of the Vic Oliver tragedy when British actor Emrys Jones, here to star in John Hussey's production of A Man and His Wife for the Brooke, was found dead in Brian's flat. Stuart Brown had the task of stepping into the role at short notice.

At the Academy Rex Garner directed Ken Smith, Diane Apple by and Erica Rogers in Boeing-Boeing, and, for the Academy at the Brooke, The Brass Hat with John Hayter, Peter Elliot and Ian Drummond. Odd little venues, turned into makeshift theatres for hire, were springing up all over the town. One of them was a room in the Oxford Hotel, Rose bank, called The Blue Fox, and it was there that Jerome Kilty's Dear Liar was revived with Diane Wilson as Mrs Patrick Campbell and Hugh Rouse as George Bernard Shaw.

Pieter Toerien and Shirley Firth presented the chiller-thriller Wait Until Dark at the Intimate, bringing English film starlet Shirley Anne Field from London to play the role of the blind girl taken in the movie by Audrey Hepburn. It enjoyed a good run, but Pieter's major undertaking for the year was the presentation of Frederick Knott's thriller Dial M for Murder for which he imported another British star, John Gregson, to play the husband who is planning the murder of his wealthy wife. To play the hapless wife, Pieter brought Joan Fontaine.

In her heyday, Fontaine, a serene blonde English beauty, found fame in Hollywood, most famously opposite Laurence Olivier and Judith Anderson in Alfred Hitchcock' s Rebecca. Academy Award-nominated for Rebecca, she won the coveted Oscar for yet another wife under threat opposite Cary Grant in Alfred Hitchcock's Suspicion. Hitchcock (who had made the film version of Dial M for Murder with Grace Kelly and Ray Milland) was said by one critic to have 'succeeded in transforming Joan Fontaine from an unsatisfying feminine decoration into a great screen actress'. Philip Grout, unfortunately, didn't succeed in doing the same for the now very middle-aged Miss Fontaine.

With audiences drawn by the star's past fame and by a gripping play, the run of Dial M ... was reasonably successful but came close to sending Pieter Toerien into retirement. Not only did his glossy leading lady lack expertise on the live stage, but she was far too grand to care. She was, according to Pieter and others, not only unprofessional and uncooperative, but seemed to be under the illusion that she was here for the express purpose of being feted. There were plenty of socialites and celebrity seekers willing to wine and dine the lady, who quite wore herself out with the social round. Matters came to a head when she lost her voice and, reminded by Pieter of the 'no play, no pay' clause in her contract, threatened legal action. She met her match in Pieter, however, and her tour ended in acrimony.

Pieter's faith in his chosen career was restored with his next two productions, which also played at the Civic. Jack Popplewell's sparkling comedy Darling, I'm Home brought another London star, Ian Carmichael, to play opposite Diane Todd in what was a very happy association, and later in the year, director Philip Grout and actor Leonard Whiting came for A Touch of Spring.

The latter was a terrific success both in Johannesburg and Cape Town. Audiences appeared quite smitten with Leonard Whiting, whom they knew as the romantic Romeo in Franco Zeffirelli's film of Romeo and Juliet. Made when Leonard was seventeen, the film had brought him international stardom, though he had acted since the age of twelve, notably as the Artful Dodger in Oliver! in the West End. Pieter brought Leonard out again in 1976 to join British star Jean Kent, Marjorie Gordon, Naomi Buch, Graham Armitage and Gordon Mulholland in the Ben Travers farce, The Bed Before Yesterday. (The legendary Travers, still sprightly at ninety, came out for the opening and enjoyed himself hugely).

In August, with their tenth birthday celebration pending, the Civic Theatre committee bowed to the pressure of their increasingly frustrated customers and joined the Computicket reservations network. We also installed a booking terminal in the Civic itself. The birthday attraction with which we opened booking was a PACT production by John Hart (then ballet master) of Frederick Ashton's Cinderella, danced by Dawn Weller. The great choreographer, now Sir Frederick, and Sir Robert Helpmann, came out to play the Ugly Sisters in a number of gala performances, and were a sensation both on stage and off.

Graham and I gave a luncheon party for these two great artists. In addition to being a dancer, Helpmann was a choreographer and an accomplished stage and screen actor. Highly intelligent and a witty conversationalist, he had a great sense of fun which overrode his vanity and periodic lack of discretion. When I told him that my dog Katie was named after his great friend and one-time co-star Katharine Hepburn, he immediately reached for the phone. Much shrieking and giggling followed down the line as he told Katie Hepburn, 'DAH-ling! Percy's named a bulldog bitch after you!' The next thing I knew I was summoned to the phone ...

Freddie Ashton was much the quieter man and relaxed quietly in a corner of the patio talking to a group of friends while Bobby Helpmann held court in the lounge, inviting everybody to admire the massive diamond ring he had bought in Johannesburg and was flaunting outrageously. Indeed, everything about Bobby was outrageous. An Australian, he was quite carried away by our computerised booking system and never stopped talking about it on his return home. This I knew because I had a letter of enquiry from the Australian Ballet.

Another major event in the ballet world was the visit of the great Russian ballerina Natalia Makarova to dance Giselle for John Hart and PACT. Makarova had defected to the West while on tour with the Kirov Ballet in 1970. Like every other major ballet company in the world, PACT invited her as a guest artist, and to everybody's total amazement, the invitation was accepted by conductor Vladimir Rodzianko, who was also her manager. She performed here, partnered by Ivan Nagy, even before she had danced with the Royal Ballet, and the orchestra was conducted by Rodzianko. I accompanied Basil Taylor, head of PACT Ballet, to meet the party at the airport where a press conference was held. During the conference, Rodzianko took me aside, asked me where a certain address in Randburg was, and requested me to instruct the driver to take him there. I was a little bemused but thought no more about it. At rehearsal the next morning the atmosphere was bristling with tension, and we subsequently learnt that the mysterious address in Randburg was that of none other than Rodzianko's wife. He had married a South African who had taken such a dislike - no doubt through jealousy - to Madame Makarova, that she'd gone home to her mother. Rodzianko had accepted the engagement with PACT to give him an opportunity to attempt a reconciliation (successful) with Mrs Rodzianko.

Thus, was ballet history made in Johannesburg. During this time, the American entertainer Eartha Kitt also toured South Africa. She performed at the Colosseum for Ronnie Quibell, following the satisfying appearance of Jose Feliciano, who finally made good his agreement to come (and would do so twice more, in 1976 and 1977). The daughter of poverty-stricken sharecroppers, Earth a had come to fame in New Faces of 1952 with her sexy persona and quirky voice and took the world by storm with her outrageous renditions of 'I Wanna Be Evil' and 'My Heart Belongs To Daddy'. She was an unlikely candidate for apartheid-ridden South Africa, and had a very unhappy time here, facing racial insults that included being thrown off the beach at Durban where she was innocently (some might say naively) taking the sun with her young daughter.

Graham and I threw a lively party at which both Makarova and Eartha Kitt were guests. Alex Cherniavsky came, monopolising the ballerina in voluble Russian for half an hour before releasing her to the adoring attention of other guests. Poor Eartha, clearly feeling a little out of her depth and eclipsed by Makarova, took herself off to sit on the stairs in gloomy silence. Her evening didn't improve when Annah, our resident maid, attempted to converse with her in Zulu! A rather more cheerful Eartha and I reminisced about her trip when I saw her backstage after a performance of Sondheim's Follies at the Shaftesbury Theatre in London some years later.

PACT Opera added two new works to their repertoire in 1972, Bizet's Carmen and Mozart's Don Giovanni. To direct the complex and difficult Mozart work, they brought out Leonard Schach. Among the artists who came for Musica Viva was the great Spanish mezzo-soprano Teresa Berganza, whose tour I arranged. Like de los Angeles, Schwarzkopf and Rita Streich before her, only superlatives can attempt to convey the depth of her artistry.

In November 1972 I saw Athol Fugard, John Kani and Winston Ntshona's workshopped play, Sizwe Banzi is Dead for the first time. Directed by Barney Simon with Kani and Ntshona, it was brought to Johannesburg by Ian Bernhardt for the Phoenix Players, an offshoot of Union Artists. This hard-hitting and sensitive play had originated in Port Elizabeth, where Athol, John and Winston worked together as the Serpent Players. When they attempted a public run of the play in P.E. it was. closed down by the authorities and couldn't find a home in a public theatre anywhere else either. Thus, in Johannesburg, it came to be staged in the unlikely setting of the Men's Common Room at Wits University where, to be invited, one had to become a member of Phoenix Players. The impact of this play, much of it comedy, but bearing seriously on the effects of the pass laws, was stunning, and over the years in South Africa, in London and in the USA audiences have been transfixed by the vitality of the writing and the uninhibited brilliance of the playing.

For some years annual awards had been given by various sponsors for best performances, directors and so forth in the live theatre. These were province by province rather than countrywide, and in Johannesburg the awards came from several sources. The 'Sammy', for example, was a trophy and cash award presented by Margaret Inglis in memory of her late husband Stewart 'Sam' Leith for the best performance by an actor in an English play; the Gallery Club presented the best actress awards, Afrikaans and English; Gallo gave an award for the best performance in a musical, and Breytie Breytenbach instituted and donated the Breytenbach Epathlon for the best director.

The time span across which the performances were judged ran from June of one year to July the next, and the awards, given at a prestigious ceremony, became known collectively as the Johannesburg Theatre Awards. In 1972, the coordination of the awards was taken over by DALRO (Dramatic, Artistic and Literary Rights Organisation), the judging was done - at my instigation - by the professional critics, and the annual prizegiving luncheon, the DALRO Awards, superbly organised by Gerhard Robinson, became a highlight of the Johannesburg theatrical calendar until the whole operation was disbanded in 1994, the number of award categories having grown by then from eight to nineteen.

At the first DALRO Awards in 1972 Siegfried Mynhardt and Yvonne Bryceland were voted best actor and actress in English - he for Child's Play, she for Boesman and Lena. P.G. du Plessis' monumentally successful play Siener in die Suburbs swept the board, gaining best Afrikaans actor and actress awards for Marius Weyers and Sandra Prinsloo, and the Breytenbach Epathlon for its director, François Swart.

On the revue spectacular scene, Sandro Pierrotite came into the picture. Formerly the manager of Cinerama, then head of publicity for Ster Films, he had been appointed by Andre Pieterse (who rose to become vice-president of MGM in the States) to manage the Ocean City complex in Durban. The first of the giant cinema complexes, it had opened in October 1967 with all the glitz and fanfare of a Hollywood premiere. By 1972 Sandro was managing director of Ster Films and had involved himself in the presentation of Marjorie Chase's ice shows at the Ocean City complex which had an ice rink attached.

The success of the ice shows, which had toured to Johannesburg, convinced Sandro to involve Ster further in live entertainment. He discussed with me the financial viability of backing a Brickhill-Burke show, and I referred him. to Jim Stodel. When Stodel showed Pierotti the figures relating to the Minstrel Scandal shows, he had no hesitation in approaching Joan and Louis. The result was another glittering Brickhill-Burke extravaganza, Follies Spectacular, starring Joan and choreographed by Wendy de la Harpe, which was the successful Christmas attraction at the Civic.

The entertainment event of the year, as much for its longevity as its wide appeal, was Taubie Kushlick's production of Jacques Brel is Alive and Well and Living in Paris. Jacques Brel, the French-Belgian songwriter-singer, was, and remains, one of the most attractive of French troubadours with his sensual, sometimes angry, often bitter-sweet songs of which 'Ne me quitte pas' ('If You Go Away'), 'If We Only Had Love' and 'Seasons in the Sun' are only three of his rich output.

In 1968, with Brel at the height of his fame, Eric Blau and Mort Shuman wrote the show which opened to ecstatic acclaim at the Village Gate in New York where Taubie, travelling with Adele Lucas, saw and fell in love with it. She acquired the rights, formed a partnership with Adele who took care of the marketing and public relations, redecorated the Chelsea Theatre in Hillbrow's Chelsea Hotel to replicate a Parisian bistro, and opened Jacques Brel on 12 August 1972.

It would be more accurate to say that the show exploded into Johannesburg. It was magical in capturing the plangent soul of Brel, the audience went wild, and public enthusiasm continued unabated for almost four years, making Jacques Brel into one of the show business phenomena of the decade. The first company consisted of Ferdie Uphof (who stayed with the show throughout), Ann Hamblin, Jean Dell and Alain D. Woolf, with Irene Frangs and Robin Dolton as understudies and alternative cast members. Lindsay Heard was the musical director of the three-piece band - piano, which he played, drums and accordion.

The cast, who were passionately in love with the material, had signed a run-of-the-show contract. This caused a degree of havoc since nobody expected the run to last for several years. Alain D. Woolf was the first to drop out and was replaced by Robin Dolton (who later married Diane Todd). Over the years, during which different versions of the show toured to other cities, notable singers who joined the company at various times included Gay Lambert, Laurika Rauch, Sandy Layne, Bruce Millar, Judy Page, Joe Masiell who came from New York, and Tonia Bern-Campbell from London. Tonia was the widow of water speed-ace Donald Campbell, who had met his death when his famous boat, 'Bluebird', blew up. She was herself a French Belgian whose cabaret act heavily featured Brel's music, and she brought a touch of glamorous authenticity to the show.

Three years into the run, Taubie redirected a new version, Encore Brel, starring Laurika Rauch, and, in 1983, at PACT's invitation, she put together The Best of Brel for a tour.

At that first memorable opening performance in August 1972, Graham and I had been given superb ringside seats by Taubie, who emphasised how lucky we were every time she swept past. However, just before the show began, she rushed up to us saying, 'DAH -lings! Some VIPs who didn't confirm their booking have arrived and I'm afraid I'll have to give them your seats. They're VERY important people!' We had little say in the matter and found ourselves unceremoniously bundled into chairs that faced the kitchen rather than the stage.

Over the four-year period at the Chelsea, this happened to me and Graham on almost every one of the many occasions we saw the show. If we didn't end up practically in the kitchen, we found ourselves parked on the steps. It became a standing joke between me and Taubie, especially when, years later at the old Oxford Hotel, she revived the show, and swooped on us again to make room for Joel Mervis, the editor of the Sunday Times. It happened, too, at the Balalaika Hotel, another new venue, when Taubie and Adele were again in partnership to present a season of Brel and Edith Piaf. On this occasion, Taubie had sent out her invitations and Adele hers, with no consultation between them. On the night, four hundred people turned up to occupy two hundred seats. Adele thought the ensuing chaos was hilarious, Taubie was furious, and Graham and I got acquainted with the Balalaika kitchens ...

I had been responsible for writing and delivering the daily theatre advertising to the newspapers almost since the inception of Show Service. In December 1972 I suggested to the manager of The Star advertising department, whose sole function was to take in the classifieds, that they close their numerous branches. Since Computicket offered a natural cash collection service, I suggested that classified ad customers could place their copy through Computicket, thus saving the papers a lot of money in rentals and salaries (while, at the same time, providing extra revenue to Computicket).

It was agreed to phase this in over a period of time, and the system of placing classifieds through Computicket continues to this day, vastly improved since the introduction of fax machines which eliminate the time-consuming, often frustrating and potentially embarrassing method of customers dictating their copy over the phone.

We went into 1973, with further expansion on the horizon.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

THE COLOUR OF MONEY

Computicket continued its geographical march onwards. Although we had to close the terminal at African Life Buildings in Eloff Street because of difficulties in maintaining the data lines (Post Office phone lines linked to the computer), by the end of 1973 we had seven branches in Pretoria and fifty-six outlets in the Transvaal as a whole. However, one essential location was denied us for some while.

The Sandton City shopping centre opened in 1973 but the Hyde Park Shopping Centre, with whom we had signed a contract in 1971, bound us to agreeing that we would not open another terminal within a certain radius of theirs. Sandton City, the largest and most prestigious of the shopping complexes, fell under this restriction, and when the number of cinemas there increased, Computicket was conspicuous by its absence and I had to renegotiate the Hyde Park contract.

As the Computicket network spread, our endeavours to improve the stability and efficiency of the system were a daily preoccupation. Managements were delighted with our ability to determine their booking trends and supply them with figures on a daily basis with greater speed than during the manual days. At the touch of a button I could tell a producer how much money he was taking literally per minute, and the daily print-outs that we sent to our clients showed them a detailed breakdown of how many patrons had booked for which performance, on what day the booking had been made, and from which area. Although I had been able to advise theatres for many years on their publicity, length of run and so forth based on booking trends, computerisation radically increased the value of such advice and quickly showed itself to be a powerful tool in dictating marketing plans.

With some imaginative 'cheating', the Show Service branch of Computicket was utilised for publicity purposes for the movie Gold, filmed on location in South Africa with future James Bond, Roger Moore. Towards the end of filming, he came to my office to be photographed supposedly buying the very first advance ticket for the movie. He had no sooner arrived when the system went down. By then, I'd learnt the meaning of back-up and had printed a 'ticket' in advance. Roger remained unaware of my sleight-of-hand, while Gail Jaffit still has the ticket, dated 17 December 1973, in her album of memorabilia.

I took a break from culture in South Africa to enjoy culture in Israel. I stayed with Leonard Schach at his Jaffa home and we attended the Jerusalem Festival for which Leonard directed the world premiere of Masada. The libretto of this avant-garde opera, with a heavily electronic score composed by Josef Tal, was based on the famous mass suicide of the Jews who killed themselves at the fortress at Masada to evade capture by the Romans. Leonard's production was inventive and compelling, and the evening as a whole was made even more memorable by the fact that the Prime Minister of Israel, the formidable Mrs Golda Meir, was in Leonard's party and dined with us after the opera.

From Israel I went to New York, where I lunched with Sol Hurok who had asked me to find a management to bring Maria Callas and Giuseppe di Stefano to South Africa. I had to be very tactful to get out of this one, using the not untrue excuse that South African audiences would never pay the prices necessary to cover the astronomical fees demanded by these two artists. What I didn't say, although Sol must have known, was that the great Di Stefano was well past his prime, and the even greater Callas, who had retired at the age of forty-two eight years previously and had her life ruined by her liaison with Aristotle Onassis, was now quite unable to produce the goods. The pair had just toured Europe where the hysterical ovations they had received were prompted by nostalgia - the recitals were a travesty and the reviews appalling. A sad coda indeed to two legendary careers.

When I returned from my travels I was heavily involved with the Computicket booking for two major boxing events. The first of these was the WBA World Bantamweight title fight between Arnold Taylor and the holder, Mexican Romero Anaya, promoted by Dave Levin. The contract had come to Computicket through referee Stan Christodoulou, who officiated at this, his first world title fight. Stan, who was quite a character, went on to become one of the top referees and fight administrators in the world.

The Taylor-Anaya fight was unforgettable and is still rated as one of the best of all time in its class. In the course of the action both fighters had taken the fall then, in the fourteenth round, Arnie Taylor delivered the knockout right to Anaya's jaw with a skill that SABC commentator Steve de Villiers called 'as beautiful a punch as one can see'. It had been twenty-three years since South Africa had produced a world champion in Vie Toweel and the Rand Stadium crowd went wild. I was in the dressing-room afterwards when Anaya came in and, with true generosity, said to Arnie, 'You will remain a great champion for a long time.' Unfortunately, he was proved wrong when Arnie lost his next bout and his title to Soo Hwan Hong of Korea.

In August of 1973 at Albuquerque in the USA, South African light-heavyweight Pierre Fourie became only the second boxer (after Mohammed Ali, the former Cassius Clay) to go the distance against Bob Foster, the black American title-holder renowned for the dynamite in his fists. In December, Fourie and Foster met again at the Rand Stadium. This was the first time a black man had fought a white man before a mixed audience, albeit one in segregated stands, and the atmosphere was highly charged. The fantastic excitement of the evening was, however, marred by the racist insults shouted at Foster the winner- by the crowd. It was really very shaming, and I can only surmise that black fighters came here at the height of the apartheid era because the money was of paramount importance to them.

Also in the sporting arena we dealt with the South African Open International Games, a multi-racial government-sponsored event held, to general disbelief, in Pretoria. The first official S.A. Games had been held at the Wanderers in 1964 and featured only one overseas athlete, while a separate Games was held simultaneously for blacks at the Orlando Stadium. The 1973 event was the beleaguered government's attempt to neutralise our exclusion from the Olympic Games and put out a propaganda message designed to counter accusations of racial discrimination in sport. Given the climate of the times, it is extraordinary to note that twenty-nine countries participated in the thirty-one events, and competitors included local as well as visiting blacks.

The event was one which, from an organisational point of view, my office could well have done without. It may have been insignificant compared to the magnitude of the Olympics, but internally it was a mammoth undertaking. There were over six hundred competitors, a major opening ceremony, and much hype, which resulted in Computicket's biggest and most complicated booking contract to that date. Aubrey Louw worked closely with the organisers, settling venues, drawing up the seating plans and prices, and working out the exact schedule of events. Once everything was finalised, the details were programmed into the computer system and we even went so far as to produce a booklet for the operators for easy reference.

Then the nightmare began. Early on in the games the organisers rescheduled events without prior notice so that, for example a 7 p.m. race for which we had already sold a couple of hundred tickets would be run at 2 p.m. and some other event would take place at 7 p.m., while a final scheduled for 8 p.m. would, without warning, take place at 4 p.m.

It was an ongoing and escalating shambles to which the organisers remained unforgivably indifferent, and we were left to take out expensive newspaper advertising, doing the best we could to forewarn our innocent customers and protect ourselves from being held responsible.

It was a great pity since the Games covered the range of Olympic sports and at very reasonable prices- from R3 to fifty cents, with boxing the most expensive at R5 top. Apartheid, however, was not forgotten, even in the interests of public relations propaganda. Specific seats were allocated for non-whites, and there were some characteristic Alice-in-Wonderland lunacies such as allowing them to attend ice-skating but not swimming. However, all races were allowed into the Small-bore, Pistol and Clay Pigeon shooting- and free of charge at that!

On the cultural and artistic side, the pattern remained much the same, with PACT once again proving the mainstay of theatre- indeed, they overtook their 1972 record of twenty-four plays, chalking up thirty-one in 1973. Highlights included A Lily in Little India and Three Months Gone by Donald Howarth, a talented playwright and an endearingly eccentric man who spent some time here, working with The Space in Cape Town where he had made his left-wing political views felt on stage and off, and had written a play called, tellingly, Othello Slegs Blankes, Lily and Three Months Gone were two of the Anna Bowers trilogy (of which the first was never done here), and concerned the lives, loves and tribulations of its lower middle-class characters. Sincere, poignant, entertaining, and aimed at the serious theatregoer, they were further distinguished here by brilliant performances from Helen Bourne (Anna Bowers) and Barbara Kinghorn, with Frantz Dobrowsky also in both, joined by Jack Klaff in Three Months Gone. Leon Gluckman presented this last in London's West End, with Diana Dors.

Here, after a very successful season at the Alexander of both plays, Three Months Gone was pulled off by the authorities a few days before the end of the run in response to complaints about so-called blasphemy. There was no prior warning. The cast arrived for the performance one evening and were sent home, never to return.

Also, at the Alexander was an unusual piece called A Macbeth. It was a reworking of Shakespeare by Charles Marowitz, an American then resident in London, who came out to direct this intriguing and entertaining experimental play which starred Molly Seftel, Siegfried Mynhardt, Billy Matthews and Ken Leach, soon to become the artistic director of the Arena company. Patrick Mynhardt was seen in More Jerepigo, François Swart directed a polished production of Moliere's Tartuffe, and Barney Simon Six Characters in Search of an Author.

For the many who preferred their plays in a lighter vein, the Academy continued to oblige, as did the Brooke, Toerien/Firth, and Brickhill/Burke. The Academy brought out English actor David Tomlinson to direct A Friend Indeed, and the Academy company at the Brooke gave us Funzapoppin'. For the Brooke, Brian directed the Broadway comedy hit Any Wednesday with Helen Cotterill, Victor Melleney and Vivienne Drummond, while, at the Civic, Pieter Toerien brought one of stars of the 'Carry-on' films, Kenneth Connor, to play My Fat Friend. Also, at the Civic, Pieter presented the revue-style compilation of Noël Coward material, Cowardy Custard, starring Moira Lister, David Kernan and Graham Armitage, accompanied by Freddie Carpenter who came from London to direct this enchanting mélange. Freddie was a camp delight to know and kept us regaled with stories of the Coward era when the West End was virtually controlled by Binkie Beaumont, head of the powerful H.M. Tennent management. The polished song and- dance man David Kernan, something of a specialist in shows of this kind, returned to South Africa in the 1990s with Let's Do It, his show from the Chichester Festival Theatre which featured the contrasting but complementary music of Coward and Cole Porter.

At the Intimate, Toerien/Firth gave us the Francis Durbridge thriller Suddenly at Home and Royce Ryton's Crown Matrimonial. The latter dealt, in an absorbing and entertaining manner, with the abdication crisis of Edward VIII (the Duke of Windsor) and relied for much of its success on a lookalike cast. To this end, Pieter and Shirley brought a London cast which notably included Owen Holder and Peggy Thorpe-Bates, dead ringers for Edward and his mother, Queen Mary. The run was packed with eager Royalty-watchers, of whom I was one.

At Christmas, Pieter and Shirley brought the dynamic Canadian-born actress and singer Libby Morris from London in her one-woman show, Just Libby. She is a loud-mouthed powerhouse, absolutely ideal for the role of Momma Rose (created by Ethel Merman) in Gypsy, which she later returned to play here for Joan and Louis.

The beginning of November saw the opening of a new venue, appropriately called the Little Theatre, in the Corner House building, which belonged to a mining house, at the corner of Commissioner and Sauer Streets. The first show was a comedy, Till Bed Do Us Part by Louis Ife. It was presented by Louis and his then wife Barbara Kinghorn, who co-starred in it with him under Rex Garner's direction. This theatre was later leased by Toerien/Firth and renamed the Barnato.

At the DALRO Awards in November, Tina Balder won the best Afrikaans actress award for her performances in the title role of Christine and the part of Maams in Iemand om Voor Nag toe Sé. However, the Gallery Club, who sponsored the best actress awards in both the English and Afrikaans categories, had run into financial problems and were no longer able to afford the two cash prizes. Thus, it was that I, on behalf of Computicket, donated the Afrikaans actress prize which, thenceforth, became known as the Computicket Award.

In a new departure, PACT added musical comedy to its programming. With JODS now out of the picture, there was a gap to be filled and Dennis Reinecke, head of PACT Opera, realised not only that his organisation had the necessary facilities and musical personnel, but that musicals, if well done, stood to make a substantial profit which could offset worthy loss-makers in other areas.

The first PACT musical to be staged was Kismet directed by Anthony Farmer who also designed the sets, and with costumes by Neels Hansen who would himself become a major director of opera and musicals in later years. Lawrence Folley was cast in the lead, with other major roles taken by Gé Korsten, Barbara Veenemans and Kerry Jordan, but the female lead of Lalume proved impossible to cast satisfactorily and Dennis Reinecke decided to look in London. Since I was there at the time, I assisted him at the Theatre Royal, Drury Lane, where we auditioned more than two hundred hopefuls who came from all over England before we found the only suitable girl in Iris Chapple.

Kismet, with its exotic visual quality and a glorious score based on Borodin's Prince Igor \- numbers include 'Stranger in Paradise' and 'Baubles, Bangles and Beads'- opened at the Civic in late 1973 and was a sparkling success. So much so that it was revived for Christmas 1974, and a new production (by Neels Hansen) was staged again in 1980. However, in a period which seemed increasingly to hurt the sensibilities of the more Calvinistically inclined, the PACT board in 1973 received a spate of protests about the flimsy costumes worn by the female members of the company- totally innocuous and thoroughly appropriate though they were, to an Arabian Nights-type show.

The regular PACT Opera repertoire was expanded with productions of Aida and, in Afrikaans, The Marriage of Figaro, while the year saw revivals of Carmen and La Traviata. In the ballet company, husband and wife Denise Schultze and Louis Godfrey were appointed joint artistic directors, a position they held until 1978. The highlight of the ballet year was Gary Burne's Nongause, based on the national suicide of the Xhosas in 1834. This dance drama was accompanied by rock music composed by Johnny Boshoff, plus electronic music composed, arranged and taped by Burne, Boshoff and June Schneider. Dawn Weller was magnificent in the lead; and the piece also had a great impact in Cape Town where PACT paid their second visit in an exchange with CAPAB Ballet who came to Johannesburg and Pretoria. These sadly infrequent exchanges ceased entirely some years ago.

Like black boxers, international musicians continued to visit our repressive land. No doubt in some cases, it was the colour of money that attracted them, but I always suspected that many of them were unaware of politics, they just wanted to play wherever anybody wanted to hear them. This year, among others, the soprano Emmy Arneling came, accompanied by my friend Dalton Baldwin, as did British pianist John Ogden, American violinist Aaron Rosand, the Paris Octet, flautist Jean-Pierre Rampal and German pianist Hans Richter-Haaser.

The return of Jorge Bolet was a personal highlight of the year for me. He and Tex Compton stayed with me and Graham, and Jorge practised daily on the baby grand belonging to our then next-door neighbour, Anthony Farmer. Our townhouses bordered on a park where, every morning, people strolling or sitting in the open air revelled in what amounted to a free recital as Jorge went through his repertoire.

This tall, heavily-built Cuban, with his large bead and carefully clipped moustache looked nothing like one imagines a concert pianist. He had played the piano for fifty-two of his fifty-eight years, but his journey to the top had been slow, painful and fraught with difficulties. By 1973, however, he had broken through to be acknowledged as one of the world's finest exponents of Liszt. The tour, for which I had made all the arrangements, was a success.

Jorge Bolet returned here again in 1976 when he was the first classical concert pianist to play on South African television. When we arrived at the studio for the broadcast, the programme director greeted the artist with the information that he had three minutes of air time, and ordered him to 'play loud, play fast and play something I know - and it must be by Liszt'. Jorge said nothing, seated himself at the piano, and when his cue came, played a slow and delicate Chopin etude!

East is East, and West is West but, despite the implications of the colour bar, the two met in harmony when one of the biggest, and arguably the most exotic, companies ever to play in South Africa, arrived for a season at His Majesty's in October. The ever imaginative Yango John (who had just delighted us with Victor Barge, the Danish-American master of droll musicianship) was the impresario, the Japanese Shochiku Revue Troupe from Tokyo's Kokusai Theatre was the company.

It was a massive undertaking. Aside from having to arrange special visas, Yango had to organise the transportation of technical equipment, scenery and costumes which added up to seventy tons in weight and had to be installed in time for an October opening. Yango, wisely as it turned out, invited Mr Saturo Muto, the Kokusai's chief technician and the man responsible for designing the incredible technical and lighting effects of the show (which ranged from burning buildings to the seasons changing before one's eyes) to come out in advance and inspect the facilities at His Majesty's.

Little Mr Muto spent an entire day crawling about in the theatre flies and in hidden corners of the building, where he discovered a large store of technical equipment that had been installed in 1946 but never used again after the pantomimes ended. Yango's delight, shared by Mr Muto and Jim Stodel, was short-lived when he was told by the interpreter that Mr Muto required an additional eight tons of special equipment from Japan, including a steam-generating boiler.

These requirements played havoc with Yango's budget, and he immediately called a meeting with me to redo his castings and readjust the seat prices accordingly. When this was satisfactorily completed, the contract was signed, and I had the go-ahead to open the Computicket booking. From our point of view, the response of non-white audiences was very exciting. Prices for their 'special' nights ranged from R 4 to R 1, and the numbers in which they came once again indicated that the segregation laws were not only morally reprehensible but economically suicidal. Unlike an advertising agent who sits in splendid isolation and charges large sums of money for services rendered, my access to the booking figures meant that I could decide when and how to place ads and how much to spend to get maximum exposure for minimum outlay. For the Kokusai, however, where it was imperative to sell well if the astronomical costs were to be covered, Yango approved the then enormous sum of R700 per week for press ads. He loved coming into the office for a minute-by-minute update on his bookings which Gail or I would show him on the computer. It was on the strength of these figures during the run that he asked Jim Stodel for an extension of the season, demonstrating clearly my belief that at long last the system was coming into its own as a marketing tool, able to help in accurately determining the length of a run in relation to public demand.

When the Japanese troupe arrived, Yango John told the press conference that the Kokusai could well be the last overseas extravaganza to visit South Africa, due to the spiralling costs of such an enterprise in every department from air fares to set-construction. Almost twenty-five years later this prediction was proving ruinously true, thanks not only to rising costs but the catastrophic situation of the rand which puts importation quite out of reach without sponsorship.

He also told the press with confidence that South African audiences would boggle at the level of spectacle and the richness of talent and imagination they were about to see. His confidence was well-founded. The Kokusai Revue displayed a unique and skilful blend of Japanese artistry and Western modes of material, well summed-up by Percy Baneshik writing in The Star.

'I have seen the Shochiku Revue in its home setting,' wrote Baneshik, 'and can vouch for its impressive qualities - spectacle, talent, charm, imagination and a curiously different kind of artistry. It is as like the sumptuous spectacles of the Paris Lido or Radio City Music Hall, as Japanese motor cars are like their American and continental counterparts, with the same extra finesse that distinguishes the Japanese models ... when the production reproduces Western modes ... it even outdoes them.'

The show was booked to run for eight weeks, playing twice nightly plus a matinee on Saturday in an effort to recoup costs. It proved so popular, however, that it ran for twenty-two weeks in Johannesburg, certainly helped by the easy access to booking provided by Computicket. Interminable queues were no more, and people who lived far from the city centre were no longer discouraged from buying tickets by the chore of having to come into Johannesburg to get them. The year ended on a high and encouraging note for us.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

BLACK MAGIC

Looking back on 1974, the year was particularly interesting for the explosion of entertainment provided by black performers, notably South Africans. During 1973, Athol Fugard's Sizwe Banzi is Dead had been invited to London. During the protracted nail-biting wait for passports to be granted to John Kani and Winston Ntshona, the trio worked on a new piece, The Island, which became a searing cry on behalf of political prisoners. This was performed at The Space in Cape Town - to members only in an attempt to avoid legal constraints, although the police were a frequent presence. The passports eventually came through and after a season of Sizwe Banzi at the Royal Court, the play toured the UK and ran in the West End in a double bill with The Island before opening at the prestigious Long Wharf Theatre in Newhaven, Connecticut, en route to Broadway's Edison Theater.

Kani and Ntshona became the first South Africans to receive a Tony Award, won jointly for their work in these two plays, which I have seen many times over the years. The most memorable occasion, however, was when, on 26 May 1995, Graham and I sat with Barney Simon at the Market Theatre and watched a performance given in the presence of President Nelson Mandela.

In January 1974, while Athol's plays were winning plaudits abroad and contributing to the groundswell of international anger at apartheid, Computicket opened booking for a two-week season of Welcome Msomi's Umabatha at the Colosseum Theatre. The founder and director of the Zulu Dance theatre, which he'd established in Durban in 1965, Welcome Msomi had been encouraged to write this free adaptation into Zulu of Macbeth by Professor Elizabeth Sneddon of Natal University, who originally produced it there in 1971.

This magnificent dramatic spectacle in poetry and dance was invited to the World Theatre Season run by Sir Peter Daubeny at the Aldwych Theatre (then the London home of the Royal Shakespeare Company) and, after many traumas relating to passports and salaries, Umabatha made it to London where it garnered rave reviews and was invited back for Daubeny's final season in 1973. It had the honour of closing that unique festival and broke all box-office records. Cape Town had seen it in the open air at Maynardville and now, at long last, it was Johannesburg's turn.

Jim Stodel had little faith in the possibilities of a play given in Zulu and was duly surprised when it proved so popular that the season had to be extended. Despite the language barrier, Johannesburg theatregoers were as impressed as everybody else by the power of the production and the performances of Welcome as Mabatha (Macbeth) and Thuli (Daisy) Dumakude as Kamandonsela (Lady Macbeth). They later married and toured worldwide with the show before settling in the USA. By the mid-nineties, however, the Msomis had come home and a new production of Umabatha, written and directed by Welcome, played seasons at the Civic in 1995 and the Playhouse in Durban in 1996.

A rather weird memory that stays in my mind is that Computicket received an extraordinary number of booking enquiries from German speaking people, so much so that we had to employ a German-speaking temporary to assist us. We were rather puzzled by this and eventually discovered that these particular members of the public were eager to see the dancing Zulu maidens who were bare-breasted on stage. The authorities had decided that this, unlike white nudity, was 'traditional' and therefore permissible! The resultant publicity certainly contributed to pulling in the crowds ...

In 1973 Bertha Egnos had composed the music and her daughter Gail Lakier wrote the lyrics for an LP record titled 'The Warrior'. These subsequently became the basis for an all-black musical directed by Bertha, who wrote the book and called it Ipi-Tombi. The show went directly to Australia and made a huge initial impact in Perth before the backer disappeared with the takings, leaving the company stranded in Sydney with no option but to return home. Back here, Bertha Egnos approached Hymie Udwin with a view to staging the show, and Hymie took the proposal to Brian Brooke.

On 25 March 1974, having finally received permits to play in a 'white' theatre, Ipi-Tombi opened at the Brooke to rapturous acclaim and stayed there for three years. The success of the show could not have been foreseen. The content and production offered nothing that hadn't been seen before in one form or another but, as had happened with Wait a Minim! the show ignited through the popularity of one hit song, in this case 'Mama Tembu's Wedding'. The record sold by the thousands, everybody hummed it, and it was played at weddings black and white, barmitzvahs, and any other occasion that offered an excuse.

Separate performances were designated not only for black and white audiences but for Asians. It was impossible to run a colour check at the Computicket terminals, nor did we wish to. In addition, every visitor to Johannesburg rushed to buy tickets, and many locals didn't bother to check which performances were designated for which racial group. The result was a chaotic, illegal and thoroughly amicable breaking of the colour bar which, surprisingly, was ignored by the authorities.

Things were rather different over at the Colosseum where only foreign blacks -which meant consular dignitaries and the like - were permitted to attend whites only performances. Thus, if people of the 'wrong' skin colour turned up on the wrong night, they suffered the indignity of being asked for their passports. At the Alexander, the coloured playwright Adam Small and his wife Dorothy only gained admittance to the opening night of his superb Afrikaans play Kanna Hy Kô Hystoe through the determined intervention of Eghard van der Hoven, who had had the perspicacity to apply for a permit which he had in his pocket. The play proved immensely successful and Wilna Snyman won the Computicket Award for her performance as the elderly Markiet, battered by tragedy.

Meanwhile, in the townships, many plays were written and performed by blacks for blacks and business was apparently booming. I kept myself informed of these activities through the newspapers published for a black readership, even though I personally didn't see the work. Corney Mabaso, artistic director of Phoenix Players of which I had become a trustee, criticised much of this black drama as melodramatic in its fruitless preoccupation with 'rapes, funerals, prostitutes and priests', and pleaded in an article in the Rand Daily Mail for what he termed a 'virile black theatre'.

I can't imagine that his criticisms applied to the work of the tireless Gibson Kente, who continued to mount protest plays, many of which he toured round the country to black communities. Some of us did see Kente's The Train at Dorkay House, the biggest success there until they presented The Island, but his uncompromisingly anti-government musical, Give Us This Day, was banned.

Significantly, it was at exactly this time that a new company came on the scene that would change the face of theatre in South Africa and provide the soil in which 'virile black theatre' would flourish. Called simply The Company, it was formed by Mannie Manim and Barney Simon, drawn together in a common goal to extend the frontiers of theatre in terms of experimentation and the encouragement of serious drama and to include black performers and audiences as of right in a multi-ethnic environment.

Mannie Manim, one of the most formidable figures in artistic administration (and the country's most inventive lighting designer), had started out as a teenage usher at the Brooke Theatre. He went into stage management with Leonard Schach at the Hofmeyr in Cape Town, later managed the Playhouse for Leonard and returned to the Brooke as stage director. From there, he went to Theatre International before becoming PACT's drama manager. By the 1970s, he knew that he no longer wished to work in an establishment theatre that excluded blacks and had begun to ease his frustration by quietly allowing black audiences into dress rehearsals, especially at the Arena Theatre. He found a natural ally in Barney Simon who did several productions for PACT.

Barney Simon had gone to London in the late 1950s where he had the good fortune to work with Joan (Oh! What a Lovely War) Littlewood, the innovative, socialist theatre director at Stratford East. He then spent time in America, returning home in 1970 where he met and forged a bond with Athol Fugard, and met Mannie, recently returned from a leave of absence from PACT during which he had pondered his future. The two men began their collaboration within the Arena Theatre. In her book about the Market theatre, The Best of Company, Pat Schwartz recounts how Barney Simon agreed to work for PACT at the Arena provided the theatre was opened to black audiences on Sundays, and quotes him as saying, 'It was out of despair, not with any pleasure, that I went to work at the Arena and I specifically chose plays that I thought were relevant ... '

The Company was formed with Barney as artistic director, Mannie as administrative director, and a core company of actors - Aletta Bezuidenhout, Vanessa Cooke, Leonie Hofmeyr, David Eppel, Judith Cornell, Janice Honeyman, Sue Kiel, Danny Keogh, Lindsay Reardon and John Oakley-Smith. Putting their commitment into practice meant great changes and much sacrifice. Mannie left PACT and, with it, the security of a salary; Barney sold his house to raise capital; the actors learnt to live off the smell of an oil rag. Productions were done on a shoestring in every available small venue they could find such as a disused shop in Orange Grove called the Village Theatre, the Oxford Hotel's Blue Fox, the Chelsea Theatre in Hillbrow, and the PACT Arena when they could get it. They introduced late-night theatre, ignored the segregation laws as far as possible, and did everything and anything to save money. Out of this venture would come the Market Theatre.

Although The Company did not have a home of their own, their philosophy, artistic policy and hardships were following in the footsteps of The Space Theatre in Cape Town, founded by theatre photographer Brian Astbury and his actress wife Yvonne Bryceland, with the close involvement of Athol Fugard. The Space was effectively the first pioneering fringe theatre in the country, operating on a wing and a prayer and fuelled by defiance of the apartheid regime and the accepted social order of things.

The Space was made possible by the massive fund-raising efforts of a committee of socially and financially well-connected people, not least of whom was Moyra Fine, who would become the theatre's full-time mainstay throughout its seven-year life. It was born as a result of Brian Astbury's dream, indeed self-confessed obsession, to have, literally, a 'space' for experimentation and 'the right to fail'. Battling continuously against financial odds, The Space mounted almost three hundred productions, ranging from lunch-hour comedies, children's shows, late night revues and studio productions to full-scale major works, before Brian and Yvonne went to London. (It continued for another couple of years as The People's Space, run by Moyra Fine and Rob Amato).

The Space had opened on 28 May 1972, with Fugard's Statements After an Arrest Under the Immorality Act, the first performance of this disturbing play. As Brian Astbury put it in his book, with this play, starring Athol, Yvonne and Christopher Prophet, the theatre 'unequivocally nailed its colours to the mast', setting its tone of courageous defiance, and courting controversy and threats of banning throughout its tenure.

The Space showcased black writers and actors and built the reputations of artists such as Pieter-Dirk Uys, Bill Flynn, Fatima Dike and, of course, Yvonne Bryceland. It became a badge of honour in the profession to have worked there; certainly, it was no way to earn a living. Barney Simon was among the many who directed at The Space, and John Kani and Winston Ntshona made their first appearance outside of Port Elizabeth there. South Africa had never seen anything like The Space and it stood alone until The Company at The Market adopted the same stance on a larger, more sophisticated scale.

While all this heavy-duty activity was going on, the Quibells brought. The Supremes to South Africa. The quintessential female exponents of the Motown sound, they brought fame to Diana Ross and were later billed as Diana Ross and the Supremes. By 1974, Ross had gone her own way and only one of the original trio, Mary Wilson, was still in place. However, the sound, the repertoire and the skill with which the girls put the songs across remained unchanged.

The Quibells also brought Josephine Baker to South Africa, a year before the end of her extraordinary life. Miss Baker, a legend in her own lifetime and the darling of 1920s Paris, had caused a sensation when, at the Folies Bergere, she performed an erotic dance clad only in bunches of bananas. Famous throughout most of the civilised world, not only for her talent and her work for the war effort, but for adopting twelve children of different nationalities, she had made France her home after suffering the indignities of racial discrimination in the US.

Josephine Baker's talent and personality were captured in a couple of films, and a wonderful documentary on her life, but, unfortunately, when she came here, South African audiences had no idea of who or what she was and totally ignored her visit. I had read of her achievements and heard her recordings and was enchanted by her exoticism. When we met, I talked to her about her many shows and she was so grateful for the recognition that she allowed me to visit her in her dressing room where we had many a magical conversation. It's another of my special memories but tinged with sadness when I think back to how demeaning her indifferent reception here must have been for her. What she was doing here, of course, is in itself a bit of a mystery, and I can only conclude that she needed the money.

By contrast, a virtually unknown black entertainer took the country by storm, wowing the ladies, who queued backstage and at his hotel hoping to catch a close glimpse, touch his hand or even be swept off to his boudoir \- a not infrequent occurrence. Dubbed 'The Black Velvet Sledgehammer', he was a huge, sexy and charismatic American named Lovelace Watkins, brought here by Yango John.

Though born into poverty, the child of a thirteen-year-old mother, Watkins sought an education and, by performing at hotel resorts in the Catskills, paid his way through college and emerged with a BSc degree in microbiology, but decided to concentrate on a showbiz career. By no means a star, he had nonetheless made headway, singing in two seasons at London's Talk of the Town, appearing in the Royal Variety Show at the Palladium and making a sell-out tour of Australia.

Since nobody here had ever heard of him, the advance booking was not exactly overwhelming, but on opening night at the Colosseum in November, he captivated his audience, oozing charm and giving an emotionally charged performance which brought him a standing ovation. Bookings took off, and the standing ovation became a staple of the evening for the rest of his season, which was extended several times by public demand. Lovelace was the first visiting star to make such a hit despite anonymity.

Gail Jaffit and I attended most of his performances and spent a lot of time with him. He insisted that I bring my mother to see the show and meet him, which I did early in the run. I don't think my mother was ever more startled than when we went to his dressing-room afterwards. 'Momma Tucker!' he yelled and, sweeping her up into his enormous arms, whirled her round the room and gave her a big kiss.

Capitalising on the general adulation, Yango brought Lovelace back for several further tours. Inevitably, though, there was one tour too many and public enthusiasm faded. I was particularly saddened by this because I've always felt that he played a part in changing the attitudes of white Johannesburg towards black performers who were warmly received provided they remained at a respectful distance. Lovelace and I corresponded for some years. In the last letter I received, he asked me to get him an audition to play the title role in the TV mini-series Shaka Zulu, but when I talked to the late Bill Faure who made the programme, he had already cast Henry Cele in the part.

As Taubie Kushlick had once predicted, by 1974 His Majesty's Theatre had largely become a venue for 'road shows' - major blockbusting films such as Lawrence of Arabia, Doctor Zhivago and Around the World in 80 Days for which higher than usual admission was charged. Within Kinekor there was not a shred of sentiment about this theatre and, having opened the large Kine Centre cinema complex on the site of the Empire, they now wanted to close His Majesty's and allow the premises to be turned into shops by a new landlord.

Joan Brickhill and Louis Burke were preparing a new show, Minstrel Follies, starring Pat Gill, a talented local girl who had been working with some success in Las Vegas. The show was to open at His Majesty's and when, in July, Kinekor announced their plans for the destruction of the theatre, Joan and Louis realised with despair that they were about to preside over yet another historic closure. It was once too often, and they determined to save the situation. Louis went to see the landlords, Townsview Estates, and found that the managing director of Townsview was their old friend from Ster Films, Graham English.

After protracted negotiations, Joan and Louis acquired a five-year lease on His Majesty's, forming a company of which the directors were themselves plus Graham English (who resigned from Townsview) and his then wife Margaret. Their delight in at last having a theatre in which to mount the large-scale musicals that were their forte was dampened by the discovery that the lease didn't, as they thought, include the fittings, and Kinekor demanded payment for the seats, carpets and safety curtain, as well as the technical equipment backstage. In an attempt to alleviate this unexpected financial blow, they formed Friends of His Majesty's, inviting people to endow a seat, on which their name would be inscribed, at a cost of R100 a piece. This scheme would work well for the Market Theatre but never took off at His Majesty's: only 430 out of 1 200 available seats were sold.

Nonetheless, Joan and Louis forged ahead with their plans and reopened His Majesty's under their own management, not with one of their usual extravaganzas, but with a black musical which had started life as Isintu, devised by Cocky Thlothlalamaje and presented by the Phoenix Players. The show had been reworked by the Canadian actor, designer and producer Clarence Wilson and became Meropa (Sotho for drums), a tale of love, life and traditional rituals, told in song and dance against the rhythm of drums by a company of twelve. Phoenix Players, sponsored by a group of South African businessmen, toured Meropa with great success in japan and the Far East for three months.

Wilson and his company returned to South Africa where no offers were forthcoming. They endured a lean ten-month period until, at Clarence's request, Joan and Louis attended a rehearsal of the show and fell in love with it. Indeed, when the cast went into their first Zulu dance routine, Joan astounded them by leaping up and joining in. Unbeknown to the performers, she had been a whiz at Zulu dancing since childhood.

Brickhill-Burke restaged Meropa, increasing the size of the company to thirty-five and the number of musicians (two drums became five), designing new costumes, and bringing their extensive expertise to the technical aspects such as lighting. They gave the whole thing a new sheen, and the opening night on 3 December 1974 was an emotional and triumphant occasion, enthusiastically received by the critical press.

Once again, I was struck by the large numbers who attended the 'black only' performances. Meropa ran in Johannesburg until March 1975 before going on a highly successful tour which gave it a run of nineteen months all-told. It then opened at the New London Theatre, Drury Lane (the future home of Cats) retitled Kwa Zulu. The curious reason for the new name was that Aristotle Onassis' sister was named Merop and the Burkes were nervous of giving British audiences the impression that this was a Greek musical.

Joan, Louis, and all connected with the show, were presented to the Queen at the 1975 Royal Variety show, where the programme included a sequence from the musical.

But for all the excitement of so much success achieved by black ensembles in 197 4, the year will go down in theatre history as the one which saw the openings of two shows that drew their inspiration from an unexpected source and whose public appeal has never been superseded: Godspell and Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

BIBLE STORIES

Des Lindberg and Dawn Silver met while they were students at Wits University where they appeared in a production of the operetta The Vagabond King \- he as a knight in shining armour, she as a beautiful lady of the court. After graduating, Des managed the Troubadour coffee bar in Noord Street which rapidly became the stamping ground for musically inclined young people, several of whom went on to professional careers. Des taught Dawn (whose own expertise lay in art and dance) to sing, and it was at the Troubadour that I first met this talented and attractive pair.

I watched with interest as they progressed from folk song festivals to satirical revues, radio and, finally, full-scale musical theatre. The couple married in 1965, toured the country in a caravan for three years with their show Folk on Trek, then went overseas. In 1970 they bought their strikingly beautiful home on Houghton Ridge where they later converted the magnificent hall into an intimate performance space, the scene of their Sunday night soirees that range from poetry readings and one-man shows to music, both classical and jazz.

In the same year the Lindbergs joined Robert Kirby in his satirical show 8 Birds at the Labia Theatre in Cape Town and audiences fell over themselves to get seats. They returned to Johannesburg and became partners in a venture which converted the Carlton Cinema in Von Weilligh Street into a small theatre. They opened it with Birds of a Feather, a revised version of 8 Birds which drew plaudits from the press, but the theatre lasted only a few months. Des and Dawn, committed to the idea of multi-racial theatre on both sides of the curtain, persuaded David Lewis, the head of Holiday Inns, to incorporate a theatre in his new conference centre at the Maseru Holiday Inn in Lesotho.

Their primary motivation for this was a musical called Godspell. Conceived by American John-Michael Tebelak with a score and lyrics by Stephen Schwartz, the show is based on the Gospel of St Matthew. It portrays Christ as a joyous clown figure, human, vulnerable and playful, and sets religious themes in a framework of jubilant folk and rock music.

Bursting with humour and youthful vitality, Godspell had won the acclaim of audiences and senior churchmen throughout the States, Britain and Europe by the time Dawn and Des saw it in Salisbury, where it was performed by a multi-racial cast. They were determined to mount their own multi-racial production somewhere.

The Lindberg production of Godspell, directed by Dawn, opened in Maseru on 30 September 1973, and ran until 17 February 1974. At the Lindbergs' invitation, Graham and I went to see it. After a fruitless wait at Bloemfontein airport for company manager, Jon White-Spunner, a phone call revealed that he had forgotten all about our arrival. He belted the 145 kilometres from Maseru, bundled us into his bakkie and took us on a hair-raising drive at top speed- since he was also the lighting technician, the curtain couldn't go up without him. We eventually sank into our seats somewhat nerve-wracked. We were as excited by what we saw as were the several thousand other South Africans who made the journey to Lesotho despite the petrol rationing in force at the time.

Although the odds were severely against them, Des and Dawn were determined to cross the border with Godspell. They booked the Wits Great Hall and set the opening night for 12 March 1974. On Friday, 8 March, a telegram arrived from the Publications Control Board banning the show outright on the grounds that it would cause offence to the religious members of society.

The Lindbergs promptly briefed Anton Mostert S.C. to bring an urgent application before the Supreme Court on the Monday morning, the day before the opening. Mr Justice Snyman ruled that Godspell should be performed as scheduled the following night, when he would view it. He would deliver his final judgement on Wednesday 13 March. Computicket had sold in the order of 10 000 seats in advance and we heaved a sigh of relief at the stay of execution, and the fact that at least the 1 053 opening-night ticket holders were safe.

The curtain went up in an atmosphere of high tension, increased when the police arrived ten minutes into the show to announce to Dawn that they had received a warning that there was a bomb in the theatre. With breath-taking aplomb, Dawn insisted that the show continue uninterrupted while the police conducted their search. They insisted Dawn open the door of every room and enter ahead of them. After they had combed every corner of the building bar the stage they demanded the evacuation of the audience, but Dawn stood her ground and they eventually left. The whole hair-raising incident smacked of a put-up job.

The audience gave the show a standing ovation. Dawn made an emotional speech and was back in court the next morning to hear Judge Snyman's verdict. Godspell, he ruled, could continue its run, but a preface must be inserted into every programme, reading as follows: 'What you are about to see is a play. It is enacted by a group of joyous young people. The play is about the teachings, the life, the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, who donned the motley of humanity in order the better to communicate with the other children of God. All the action is symbolic.'

This piece of patronising superfluity left one gasping, but at least the good judge overturned the decision of the Control Board to the benefit of all concerned. After the Johannesburg run, Godspell embarked on a tour during which every possible obstacle was put in its way. However, the Lindbergs tirelessly continued to brief legal teams and search for alternative venues to make sure their show went on. On the production's first birthday, 30 September, it returned to Johannesburg for another triumphant season, this time at the Lake in Parkview, a northern suburbs cinema where business had fallen off and which, Kinekor had converted for use as a live theatre between movie runs.

Shortly after the tensions and excitement of Godspell's opening, I left for New York where Sol Hurok gave me tickets to a recital at Carnegie Hall by Maria Callas, in the last gasp of her career. On the day of the recital, Hurok died of a heart attack. It was a sombre moment in the history of American ballet and classical music performance, and a chapter of history was closed with his death. There was some speculation as to whether Callas, reported as being in a nervous and emotional condition, would actually perform that night, but to the relief of the audience, she finally appeared. By the end of the evening she was visibly close to collapse and the recital marked the end of another great career.

Hurok's funeral was held at Carnegie Hall. It was an unforgettable occasion, a tribute of respect and affection that resembled one of his glittering presentations. A stream of limousines disgorged the world's great opera stars, ballerinas, musicians, conductors, stage actors and film personalities, who took their seats in the auditorium which had witnessed so many of Hurok's triumphs.

The stage was bare but for four chairs, and a podium on which the rose-strewn coffin rested. The Rabbi read from the Torah, then violinist Isaac Stern played Bach's Partita in B Minor, giving musical expression to the emotions of the hushed mourners. The eulogy was delivered by Marion Anderson, the distinguished soprano who had overcome so many struggles with American colour prejudice to become the first black woman to sing at the Metropolitan Opera. Finally, in place of the mourners' kaddish, normally recited at Jewish funerals, Jan Peerce sang a compilation of psalms.

Eight pall-bearers wheeled away the coffin as the stage curtain slowly descended. It was a simple, dignified and moving service, and I knew that Sol would have been delighted by the turnout of artists who came to honour him. I had a lost a great friend, and the world had lost the greatest impresario of our time.

At home, the year brought its usual quota of visiting classical musicians, among them violinist Ruggiero Ricci, the Endres Quartet, and pianist Paul Badura-Skoda. And 197 4 was the year of the Israel Philharmonic Orchestra, the first world-class symphony orchestra to visit since the London Symphony had graced the 1956 Johannesburg Festival.

The tour had been arranged by the Zionist Federation after three years of negotiations, Lulu Lipworth, who was organising and co-ordinating the tour asked me to assist her in her mammoth task- eight concerts across five cities in nine days, beginning on 3 August. We had to deal with the transportation of four tons of equipment as well as one hundred and thirty-five people for whom flights, cars and accommodation had to be arranged. Then there was the matter of hospitality and catering, not to mention the printing of programmes, the organisation of VIP lists, press publicity, liaison with the SABC over broadcasting rights and the headache of security.

Lulu, who had no previous experience of such an operation, did an unbelievably efficient job for which she was much praised. For my part, I found myself doing strange things like going down on my knees to measure the stages of all the venues to see that they complied with the orchestra's requirements. I also found myself once again engulfed in a tidal wave of popularity - I had no idea till then just how many people couldn't live without attending a symphony concert (Prices R20 to R3), particularly the opening gala (Price R50).

It was a marvellous experience to be involved with the march of this musical army. The concerts, conducted alternately by Werner Torkanowsky and Shalom Ronly-Riklis, were magnificent, and I was left with many extraordinary memories. Even the chaos engendered by the totally sold out houses with people clamouring to get in to city halls everywhere have taken on a warm glow of nostalgia.

On the theatre front Barney Simon directed Lysistrata for The Company, the first production since the visit of the Athens company. Audiences took to the English production at the Arena with as much enthusiasm as they had received it in Greek. During this time, instituting the pattern they would follow in the future, The Company also put on children's matinees of Janice Honeyman's May Day Adventure, and at 10.15 p.m. after Lysistrata, a late-night entertainment called Hey, Listen. At the other end of the comedy spectrum, The Academy presented Birds of Paradise, starring Rex Garner, George Korelin, Melody O'Brian and Pat Sanders, directed by Britain's Michael Pertwee. This production has practically passed into legend. It had opened in the West End starring Moira Lister and was not a success. Here, it ran for years and was so fantastically successful that the London investors, most unusually, recouped their losses from the royalties paid to them by South Africa.

Pieter Toerien continued his policy of bringing out overseas actors and directors and sometimes a fully imported cast. Nigel Patrick came from London to play the lead in Alan Bennett's Habeas Corpus directed by Kim Grant, also from London, and David Pouson directed Not in the Book with that perfect gentleman of the British theatre, Wilfrid Hyde-White (Colonel Pickering in the film of My Fair Lady) and the splendid British actress Avril Angers. Both plays were at the Civic.

At the Intimate Toerien/Firth brought Muriel Pavlow, Robert Flemyng, Robert Beatty and Ron Smerczak for a long run of Terence Rattigan's In Praise of Love. The cast spent many a Sunday with Graham and me and Muriel gave me a farewell present of a beautiful flowering plant which still flourishes in our patio garden. Indeed, over the years, we have been given plants by several visiting artists who became friends, a lovely reminder of time spent with them in our home.

Also, for Pieter and Shirley, the head of the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art, John Fernald, directed South African-born Hildegard Neil in a revival of Private Lives, and Heather Lloyd-Jones returned to the stage in the American play A Community of Two, directed by its author Jerome Chodorov. This busy year at the Intimate also offered A.R. Gurney's Children, with Erica Rogers, Sandra Duncan and visiting overseas actress Kim Braden.

Other overseas visitors in 1974 included Andrew Cruickshank, who came to the Academy to play the lead in Lloyd George Knew My Father, in which he was joined by Margaret Inglis; and Brian Murray, who came from New York to direct Diane Wilson in Twigs for PACT. Makarova returned to dance Odette/Odile in Beriosov's production of Swan Lake for PACT Ballet, eliciting an ecstatic reaction from press and public.

PACT's varied programme included another season of Robin Maugham's Enemy, directed by Robert Mohr. Its success at the Arena had led to it being staged at the Alexander for a wider audience and, at the same theatre, Mohr also directed Elizabeth L John Hussey directed Noel Coward's Hay Fever with Shelagh Holliday as Judith Bliss and himself as her husband, then, in a display of versatility, directed Shakespeare's Troilus and Cressida with Eckard Rabe, Annelisa Weiland, James White and Siegfried Mynhardt. The striking Sandra Prinsloo played Ibsen's heroine in an Afrikaans translation of Hedda Gabler for François Swart, and Aubrey Berg's popular Story Theatre paraded a cast of Young Turks in Frantz Dobrowsky, Janice Honeyman, Paul Slabolepszy, Richard Haines and Eckard Rabe.

But PACT's outstanding success of 1974, which would be repeated time and again over the next twenty-one years, making it the most popular show in South African history, was their production of Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat.

Before Andrew Lloyd Webber and Tim Rice became rich and famous with Jesus Christ Superstar and Evita, and Lloyd Webber grew into the most successful popular composer of musicals in the second half of the twentieth century, they were just two of many young Britons struggling to make their mark. Turning to the Bible for inspiration, they came up with Joseph, an ebullient, tuneful, celebratory but essentially simple telling of the Old Testament story.

I saw it at London's New Theatre (now the Albery) in 1973 and was enchanted by its fresh appeal and catchy score. Staged without sets and dressed in the simplest of clothes, it nonetheless struck a chord with audiences of all ages and beliefs. It was very short - the reprises almost took longer than the show itself- but I immediately saw its potential for South Africa and felt it would be a gift to an innovative director.

Back from my trip, I communicated my enthusiasm to PACT Drama's administrative chief, Lourens Snyman, and was simultaneously dashed and delighted to hear that PACT already had the rights and had slated John Hussey to direct a four-week run. Eghard van der Hoven had seen the show in 1972 in London, performed in its original form as a twenty- five-minute cantata sung by the boys of Colet Court School. He had intended it for the Arena Theatre but was persuaded by the Alexander's director Isadore Karr to stage it in the bigger house.

This decision caused the artistic team to rethink the production, and it was decided that, for the Alexander stage, the show needed sets and more elaborate costumes than originally intended. PACT also bought and installed their first sound-control board for the show.

The nature of Joseph dictates that the choreographer is the key to its success. For all Hussey's sterling work as director, it was Geoffrey Sutherland, whose imagination was given free rein and took off accordingly, who put the stamp of success on the enterprise. The cornerstone of the show is the Narrator, its main protagonists Joseph and the Pharaoh. The show opened on 19 November with Richard Loring as the Narrator, Bruce Millar (who had spent a year playing Jesus in Godspell as Joseph, and Alvon Collison as Pharaoh. I barely recognised it as the show I'd seen in London, so rich was it in inventive effects. The score had been re-orchestrated by Bill Fairley and now played for eighty minutes. The encores, however, soon ran longer than the second act.

The opening night was a magical affair, culminating in the cast's invitation to the audience to join them in dancing on the stage after the final curtain. The magic continued unabated every night of this and the many subsequent productions, which became increasingly lavish with each re-staging, even bordering on the outrageous. Audiences, however, positively relished each new embellishment and there has never been less than capacity attendance wherever the show has played. A second company was formed to tour Rhodesia and Natal, and in due course the original company toured the Cape and elsewhere.

The various cast lists of Joseph across two decades comprise a Who's Who of some of the most talented people in the South African theatrical profession. The teaming of Loring, Millar and Collison became part of local theatrical legend, as did the glorious technicoloured coat designed by Ivor Kirsten. The original was, alas, stolen, never to be seen again. Richard directed the tenth anniversary production in 1984, after which all three leads decided the time had come to call it a day. During various productions, which played to over 600 000 people in the Transvaal alone, their places were taken by Terry Lester, Jody Wayne, Alan Garrity and David Gilchrist among others.

The show's long-running success was due in no small measure to the determination of Eghard van der Haven, who stood resolute against all objections. An avalanche of protests came from several quarters, including students at Pretoria University who picketed the Aula Theatre suggesting that improper and immoral use had been made of the Bible. Members of the PACT board were also vociferous in their complaints but Eghard wouldn't budge and received unexpected and useful support from Sybrand van Niekerk, PACT's chairman who was also Administrator of the Transvaal. In the face of this, certain die-hard elements took their protests to the Minister of National Education, Connie Mulder and it was a rough period for PACT.

It could be said that there was a spiritual ethic guiding the sentiments behind a major event of 1974, the official opening of the 1820 Settlers National Monument in Grahamstown. An impressive building, incorporating conference facilities and a spacious modern theatre, the Monument was the fruit of a long-standing determination by the descendants of the Settlers to commemorate their hardships and subsequent achievements, and has become the centre of South Africa's major arts festival, the annual Grahamstown Festival.

In 1974, coinciding with the opening of the Monument, the Inaugural Festival, as it was officially called, was held. Drama presentations included Fugard's Hello and Goodbye, Roy Campbell, Man and Poet co-written and presented by Alan Paton, and five other plays. CAPAB supplied ballet (Romeo and Juliet), opera (Cosi Fan Tutte) and several musical events ranging from orchestral performances to a concert given by the Lindbergs. Sir Kenneth Clark's magnificent BBC art series, Civilisation, was screened in its ten-episode entirety, and nineteen lectures were given by a variety of speakers who ranged from heart surgeon Chris Barnard to artist Waiter Battiss. The exhibitions, in line with the nature of the occasion, comprised historical displays of Settler furniture, diaries and other artefacts reflective of their times.

The grand total of events, including those specifically tailored to the opening of the Monument, was sixty-four. By 1996, with the Fringe well established, the main programme supplied 179 events and the Fringe 424. The growth of the Festival (sponsored by Sharp Electronics in 1978, Five Roses from 1979 to 1983, and the Standard Bank thereafter) has been both enormous and astonishing and provides the country's chief forum for new artistic voices, indicating artistic trends.

The value of the Grahamstown Festival as a platform for political and protest theatre can't be underestimated. Works that were controversial and, under the draconian legislation in force during the 1970s, illegal, were staged there, helping to keep alive freedom of speech and artistic expression. Those who attended the first Festival in 197 4 have revelled in its growth and are overjoyed by the increasing international participation that eventually became possible.

By the end of 1974 Computicket was operating sixty-two terminals in the Transvaal, and I was beginning to dream of extending to other provinces. In the twenty years since I'd founded Show Service, I'd seen the monthly clientele grow from 2 500 to 250 000, covering 3 000 performances for a host of events at any one time.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

GLIMMERS OF LIGHT

A year of theatrical vicissitudes and social change began for me with an unexpected trip to Las Vegas with producer Don Hughes. This came about at Jim Stodel's behest after he had called Don and me in to discuss solutions to problems at the Colosseum. This gloriously art-deco cinema and theatre suffered in terms of live shows because it had limited stage space and virtually no wings. Managements were putting pressure on Stodel and ACT to do something about this, but short of rebuilding the stage to incorporate Fox Street- hardly a feasible or permissible idea- the only solution seemed to lie in finding shows that could be tailored to the space.

To this end, Don and I were sent off to see Freddie Apcar, one of the leading producers in Las Vegas and director of all the shows at the Dunes Hotel. On arrival, despite the long flight via Los Angeles and the eleven-hour time difference, Don and I found ourselves in a theatre watching Lovelace Watkins, who had now 'made it big' in Vegas. The next morning, and for fourteen days thereafter, we sat with Freddie Apcar for eight hours a day watching videos of all his shows, assessing both their appeal to South African audiences and their adaptability to the Colosseum. In the evenings we went to at least two shows and saw stars such as Sinatra, Shirley MacLaine and South Africa's Juliet Prowse. On my way home, I stopped in Los Angeles to see Ingrid Bergman in John Gielgud's production of The Constant Wife and, armed with a letter of introduction, met this Swedish-American legend of the screen. I also managed to get in to the opening night of Macbeth with Charlton Heston and Vanessa Redgrave- a curious Anglo-American pairing. The audience was so star-studded that the evening felt more like an Oscar ceremony than the performance of a Shakespearean classic.

It was a good trip and, from my point of view, very instructive, but it was fruitless. The ACT board decided not to implement any of Don's suggestions since they believed that television, now imminent, would drastically reduce audiences for live shows.

I returned home to headlines in the Sunday papers to the effect that Sam Moss, chairman of the Civic Theatre board (which included several prominent Nationalists) would, at the next meeting, formally request that the Civic be declared open to all races. On 5 February it was announced that Coloureds and Indians would be allowed to attend the Civic for the first time, with the first special performance (of Ster Theatres' production of Holiday Spectacular) for these groups to take place on 13 February. Following this news, The Star reported that Eghard van der Haven had revealed PACT's previously unpublicised 1974 decision to defy regulations and play to non-whites at the Civic and Alexander theatres. (Very few had taken advantage of this). Sam Moss reacted to the half-hearted changes by saying, 'When we get permission for a fully integrated audience, I would consider it a breakthrough'.

The impetus for fighting segregation in theatres had its roots in Cape Town. CAPAB had, for many years, run a well-oiled, highly professional drama company under Peter Curtis (English) and Pieter Fourie (Afrikaans), whose repertoire and standards well equalled those of PACT. CAPAB also boasted a first-class opera company, first under Gregorio Fiasconaro and then Angelo Gobbato, and a world-class ballet company with David Poole at its head. When the performing arts councils had been formed, CAPAB had staged its plays at the old Hofmeyr Theatre and ballet and opera at the Alhambra.

With the active support of Nico Malan, Administrator of the Cape, after whom the complex was named, CAPAB acquired its own theatre and opera house on the Foreshore, built at a cost of R12 million. However, as the building neared completion, an active boycott movement, organised by MPC Brian Bamford in protest against the whites only policy, gathered momentum. By the time of the official opening on 19 May 1971, the movement had taken hold, and many theatre lovers continued to sacrifice the opportunity to see fine plays, and artists such as Margot Fonteyn.

By 1975 the Cape Town rumble had become a roar. After much controversy and politicking, Malan announced that, as from 19 February, all population groups would be admitted to the Nico Malan theatre from Tuesdays to Fridays, with Saturdays and Mondays reserved for whites. The Rand Daily Mail summed up reaction in an editorial headed 'Naked White Racism ... A Bloody Insult'. And writer Adam Small said, 'I think the decision is beautiful, if only for the irony of it. The people who will attend Monday and Saturday performances lack civilisation. We will know all those who have no respect for this land.'

This monumentally blundering decision was, in the face of protest, reversed within forty-eight hours and the theatre declared open to all races. Despite the remaining embargo on mixed races on stage, it was the first real glimmer of light in many years, and the first performance (of Johannesburg's Academy Theatre production of Who Saw Him Die) before integrated audiences took place on 21 February.

The Cape Town City Hall, too, was opened to all races after ten years during which it enforced the bizarre stipulation that twenty-four coloureds would be allowed to attend each concert, provided that a separate entrance and toilets were available!

In the Transvaal, the authorities proved less open to change. At the Civic, the clock was turned forwards and backwards simultaneously with permission for blacks to attend separate performances. In the Rand Daily Mail, columnist 'Jan Nettle' wrote, 'After the Nico, let's go the whole hog. Now that the government has set a bold precedent, let's hope it will drop those characteristics halfway moves of the past ... If the Nico Malan is open should the Civic be far behind? What about the Rand Show, the proposed new opera house in Pretoria and the cinemas? The Nico Malan will prove that the heavens won't fall if a black skin is seated next to a white one.'

The situation in general remained highly unsatisfactory, but 1975 will be remembered as the year of much argument and a measure of enlightenment. A further development came in July when permission was granted for black and white rock bands to appear together on stage at Milner Park, although only before a white audience. PACT's Arena Theatre company moved to its new premises in Rose bank, opening with Ken Leach's striking production of The Duchess of Malfi with Leonie Hofmeyer in the title role and Bill Flynn as Bossola. The work done at the Arena virtually bypassed the PACT board; the unstated motto of the company became 'do it but don't talk about it'. Obtaining permits for non-white racial groups to attend theatres was an ongoing bureaucratic nightmare, and anomalies abounded. Though the permits had to be granted by the Department of Community Affairs, final decisions rested with local councils. The Johannesburg City Council always gave the okay, but Pretoria took the opposite stand, even threatening at one point to see that PACT's subsidy was discontinued. As late as 1981, when the State Theatre was due to open, Pretoria's council remained adamantly opposed to non-white attendance, and Eghard van der Haven approached Foreign Affairs minister Pik Botha about the matter. Botha advised him to ignore the Council and open the theatre to anyone who wanted to come, but this led to a number of embarrassing incidents at the Breytenbach Theatre.

Against this background of constant manoeuvrings, Barney Simon directed an outstanding and much acclaimed production of Arthur Miller's The Crucible for PACT starring Marius Weyers, Patrick Mynhardt, Michael McCabe and Aletta Bezuidenhout. But the part of Tituba the black slave was played by a suitably made-up white actress, Michele Maxwell. She had come from The Space and had made her first Johannesburg appearance in January in Frank Shelley's production of Shaw's Major Barbara, which had also brought Dorothy Ann Gould, a newcomer from Natal, to the PACT company.

PACT also revived Miller's Death of a Salesman, directed by Ken Leach and starring Joe Stewardson with Diane Wilson, Bill Flynn and Richard Haines. Other highlights of the company's busy year included François Swart's Afrikaans production of Othello with a blacked-up Louis van Niekerk, Sandra Prinsloo as Desdemona and, as Iago, Marius Weyers. An oddity of this production was the inclusion of four black men as part of Othello's retinue. Complaints from 'verkramptes' were met with the lie that they were stage staff being utilised as extras to save on costs.

At the Alexander Ken Leach directed The Story of an African Farm, adapted by Andre Brink from Olive Schreiner's novel and starring Annelisa Weiland, and Robert Mohr directed The Tempest, with Anglo-Irish actor Patrick Magee imported to play Prospero and Michael Richard as Ariel. Also, in the cast, appearing together in Johannesburg for the first time, were Bill Flynn and Paul Slabolepszy who would collaborate in several successful productions in the years to come, including Heel Against the Head twenty-one years later. PACT's record-breaker for the year, however, was P.G. du Plessis' hit Afrikaans play 'n Seder Val in Waterkloof, directed by François Swart with Johan Malherbe, a blond, good-looking actor increasingly in evidence in both English and Afrikaans productions, Annette Engelbrecht, Don Lamprecht, Franz Marx (later responsible for the TV soap opera Egoli) and Wilna Snyman. Birds of Paradise was still going strong at the Academy, Ipi-Tombi was in its second year at the Brooke, (in August a second company opened in the show at Her Majesty's in London) and at the Little Theatre at the Corner House Robert Kirby's The Dot-Dash Show with Robert, and Terry Lester, notched up its two-hundredth performance. For The Company, playing at the Chelsea Theatre, Leonard Schach directed Robert Patrick' s Kennedy's Children, a plotless but powerful play set in a New York bar in which a disparate collection of people reflects on their lives in the wake of the collapsed American dream that followed the assassination of John F. Kennedy.

Following its success in America and Britain, the play received much acclaim here, and was notable for the strong performances that Leonard drew from Bess Finney as the lonely woman obsessed with her idol the dead president; John Higgins as a gay off-Broadway actor living off shop-worn dreams; Erica Rogers, a would-be Marilyn Monroe trying to delude herself that she isn't really a prostitute; John Rogers as the drug-addicted Vietnam veteran who reveals the terrifying truth of the war, and, notably, Lynn Hooker, as his left-wing wife, living off memories of her Civil Rights protest days.

A truly memorable evening. Leading actor Joe Stewardson, together with director John Higgins, formed a management to produce John Steinbeck's Of Mice and Men starring himself with Ken Gampu, Don Leonard and Diane Appleby. This went on at the Lake Theatre, Parkview. And Pieter-Dirk Uys, who had cut his sharp teeth in Cape Town, impressed himself on the Johannesburg theatre public when his play Selle ou Storie (for which Christine Basson won the Computicket award for her performance as Esther Viljoen) was staged at the Chelsea, and Pity About People at the Blue Fox. Also at the Chelsea, Dawn Lindberg directed The Shrew, Charles Marowitz's version of The Taming of the Shrew with Don McCorkindale and Molly Seftel. At the 1976 DALRO Awards, the best actress award for a performance in English went, for the first and only time in local history, to a Mayoress of Johannesburg, Mrs Molly Sklaar - otherwise Molly Seftel- for her performance as Kate.

At the Intimate Toerien/Firth brought British actors Maxine Audley and Richard Huggett with director Laurier Lister for Not Bloody Likely, and Jeremy Hawk and Elspeth March for The Payoff. Jeremy, although raised in England, was born in Johannesburg where his grandfather, J.Langley Levy, had edited the Sunday Times, for forty years. Elspeth March was the divorced wife of screen actor Stewart Granger and had enjoyed a substantial West End career. While in Johannesburg, she stayed at Pieter Toerien's townhouse where, as I learned to my embarrassment, she had a penchant for inviting apparently unattached bachelors to lunch ... it took some tact to field the situation!

Pieter and Shirley also revived Tennessee Williams' A Streetcar Named Desire with Michael McGovern and Anne Rogers as Stanley Kowalski and Blanche Dubois. Their onstage relationship reflected their personal antagonism which, on one much discussed occasion actually resulted in Michael slugging Anne. One newspaper report on their public brawling commented, 'Isn't this what Method theatre is all about?'!

At the Civic, Pieter gave the public Peter Shaffer' s Equus which, despite its disturbing subject matter, drew the crowds. Directed by Leonard Schach, it was the first major new work by a contemporary playwright to be seen here for some years and was the prestige hit of the year. John Fraser and Dai Bradley came from England to play the psychiatrist and the boy with the troubled relationship with horses, and the cast was completed by Anne Courtneidge, Kim Braden, Fiona Fraser and Michael Howard. The success was such that Pieter transferred the production to His Majesty's for a short run, and the national tour drew record crowds. The impact was stunning everywhere, and Leonard won the Breytenbach Epathlon for best director.

Also, at the Civic, Pieter presented British actress, comedienne and 'Carry-on' star Barbara Windsor in Carry on Barbara. A tubby, bubbly blonde, Barbara was a wonderful lady with a great sense of humour, who deserved better than that her husband should have proved an underworld figure who served a prison term. More comedy followed with Terry Scott and June Whitfield in A Bed Full of Foreigners before the visit of a small ensemble of British actors in Shakespeare's People, a compilation of drama and poetry put together by Sir Michael Redgrave - father of Vanessa, Lynne and Corin - who led the company

It was thrilling to welcome this great British actor-knight here, but, alas, by then, he was extremely ill with advanced Parkinson's Disease. That he still performed was a testament to his courage, and that he succeeded in touching greatness from time to time was a tribute to his talent and his skill. However, there were many evenings when he was afflicted with memory loss and struggled through. Nobody had warned Pieter of the severity of Redgrave's condition, and the tour was a nightmare, redeemed only by the periodic flashes of shining brilliance. Nonetheless, those who were privileged to catch the performance on one of the better evenings (and, alas, not many tried) could only echo Raeford Daniel who, writing in the Rand Daily Mail, said, ' ... a banquet for the gourmet, this is Shakespeare with all the poetry and all the magic intact ... it is not often that a case-hardened critic finds himself reduced to tears, but Sir Michael's wonderful portrayals of Richard II and Lear achieved just that reaction from me.'

I escorted Michael Redgrave to the opening night of A Little Night Music. He was truly bewildered that evening, not knowing where he was or why the cast was unfamiliar to him. It was a cruel fate for so remarkable an artist and I wished I could have known him in his earlier days. He appeared once more on stage, in a non-speaking part in Simon Gray's Close of Play at the National Theatre in 1979 and died in 1985.

It was a year of disparate events, on-stage and off, some dispiriting, others uplifting. The lecture tour of Elie Wiesel (who would win the Nobel Peace Prize in 1986) undoubtedly fell into the latter category. The world-renowned Romanian-born author, educator and Holocaust survivor was to address his audience in the 11 00-seat Sanlam Auditorium at RAU. Every seat was sold within a quarter-of-an-hour of the booking being opened, and I suggested placing extra seating on the stage. That too went within minutes and demand on the night was so great that we broke fire regulations and allowed people to cram onto the steps. Two extra lectures were hastily arranged and brought the same response.

Wiesel's stimulating, thought-provoking and moving lectures vividly communicated his personal experience of the Holocaust and his involvement with the dramatic birth of the State of Israel, and he also treated us to readings from his brilliant works. Meeting him was indeed a privilege. Still in the arena of man's inhumanity to man, The Company staged John Herbert's Fortune and Men's Eyes with Bill Flynn, Paul Slabolepszy (DALRO best actor for this performance), Ron Smerczak and Danny Keogh. Its subject was sexual gratification in prison, its message a condemnation of the penal system. Ironically, it played at The Nunnery, a former church property in the grounds of Wits University. The play, powerful and sombre, would doubtless have scandalised the ladies in wimples who formerly inhabited the building, despite the excision of its famous simulated sex scenes.

On a lighter note, and of particular personal interest to me, Hazel and Sam Feldman, together with Ami Artzi (who had brought Uri Geller and Israeli singer Yehoram Gaon here in 1974), formed a new management. Retaining the name of Hazel's three-year-old PR and promotions company specialising in entertainment, Showtime International, it kicked off at His Majesty's with Stars of the American Ballet. Violette Verdy and Helgi Tomasson of the New York City Ballet were the special guest stars. Hazel was unable to attend her own opening night as she went down with German Measles. Twenty-one years later, having pulled off a coup in bringing Pavarotti to South Africa, she broke her leg- she made the first performance, in a plaster cast- and then contracted chicken pox.

The husky-voiced singer, songwriter and poet Rod McKuen came out in June for Ronnie Quibell, as did other big-name artists Val Doonican, The Drifters, Lena Zavaroni and the splendid Della Reese. She was less splendid in the etiquette stakes, failing to turn up at a party given for her by me and Graham. Love lace Watkins returned for Yango John, and the Dutch Swing College Band came under the auspices of Kimberley based impresarios Graham Wright and Beryl Benn. Spike Milligan, Peter Sellers' great friend and collaborator on The Goon Show, and author and star of The Bed-Sitting Room, brought his batty and eccentric brand of humour to the Colosseum for the Quibells. Spike was batty and eccentric offstage as well: one evening when the car arrived at the Sunnyside Park Hotel to collect him for the show he was nowhere to be seen. An extensive, and finally desperate, search found him sleeping in a cupboard cocooned in a pile of pillows because he couldn't bear the noise of passing traffic.

His Majesty's Theatre saw some major failures and a couple of successes throughout 1975, reflecting that show business is always subject to peaks and troughs. Given the uncertain fate of the building, the troughs were particularly worrying.

Following the success of Meropa, Brickhill/Burke opened their second production- The Tempest\- on 8 March. Shakespeare's last play was the matric setwork that year and they had high hopes of success, but it was left to PACT's production, closer to exam time, to profit from the situation. The play, with Hugh Rouse as Prospero and James Ryan as Ariel, was a failure, the financial losses disastrous, and the whole venture a lesson in the realities of trying to make a go of so large a theatre.

PACT stepped in and took the theatre for another successful season of Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat, after which the Lindbergs brought Pippin which, like The Tempest, lost a fortune. The show, with music and lyrics by Stephen (Godspell) Schwartz, had opened on Broadway in the autumn of 1972 with choreography by Bob Fosse. Here, Dawn Lindberg directed, choreographed and designed the show, which offered ample opportunities, well taken, for her inventiveness. A talented and precision-trained cast, led by Hal Watters as Pippin and local black actor Sammy Brown as Leading Player, unfolded the medieval tale of Prince Pippin, Charlemagne's heir apparent at odds with his elders and the social values of his time. The character stood as an emblem of youth in any period of history and the cast, which included Jo-Ann Pezzarro, Bess Finney, Taliep Petersen (later to create District Six with David Kramer), future black cabaret star Sophia Foster, Robin Dolton and Andre Hattingh, put the show across with verve and vigour.

However, despite good notices, Pippin simply didn't attract an audience and closed after six weeks. The show played to anyone, regardless of race, who bought a ticket, though, officially, certain performances were designated for Coloureds and Asians only. Des Lindberg apologised from the stage, expressing the hope that all South Africans would soon have free access to theatre. Meanwhile, efforts to tour major cities foundered with the refusal of seven theatres to house mixed casts. One was the Nico Malan, open to all, but only in the auditorium; the others were the Durban Alhambra, the Civic theatres in Bloemfontein and Klerksdorp, the Ernest Oppenheimer in Welkom, the Port Elizabeth Opera House and, no surprise, Pretoria's Aula Theatre.

The next blow at His Majesty's fell on Taubie Kushlick. On her return in August from her foray into the British theatre with Jacques Brel, Taubie announced that, in partnership with Don Hughes, she would stage Stephen Sondheim's A Little Night Music, an ironic, bitter-sweet and innovative work based on Ingmar Bergman's film, Smiles of a Summer's Night. This marvellous show about disillusion and deception in love and marriage had opened on Broadway in 1973, produced by Hal Prince and starring Glynis Johns as Desiree Armfeldt. Praised by the New York Times as 'a show kissed with genius', it won an armful of Tonys and other awards, but was undoubtedly ahead of its time and found favour only with the critics and elite lovers of musicals.

Bravely undeterred, Taubie went ahead, directing Maggie Fitzgibbon, Eric Flynn, Hal Watters, Erica Rogers, and herself as the dowager Madame Armfeldt (created on Broadway by Hermione Gingold). The show opened in late October but, despite excellent reviews and the popularity of the haunting song, 'Send in the Clowns', South African audiences had no rapport at all with the material and it was a resounding flop. Taubie, defiant to the last, told me that it wasn't a flop, it was merely a box-office failure, and if money was the only reason to be in theatre, nobody would be. Nonetheless, she and Don never got over the financial loss, reported in the press as being in excess of a quarter-of-a-million, and, for all her bravado, Mrs Kushlick's distress at the failure caused her to advertise the last weeks of the run as her farewell to the theatre.

Christmas saw Joan and Louis back in their own building with their production of Gypsy starring the brilliant Libby Morris as Rose, the archetypal monster stage mother, Kim Braden as her daughter, the famous burlesque stripper Gypsy Rose Lee, and Bonnie Langford (who had played the role on Broadway and in the West End) as Baby June (later June Havoc).

This great Broadway musical returned the sweet smell of success to the Burkes and His Majesty's. On balance, however, it had been an unhappy and financially disastrous year for many of those associated with that grand old theatre.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

MARKET FORCES

The government's long resistance to television finally ended with the announcement that South Africa would join the rest of the developed world with a TV service in 1976. Meanwhile, during 1975, preliminary viewing was introduced for two hours nightly from 7 p.m. to 9 p.m., split between English and Afrikaans, and transmitting the news and a selection of 'wholesome' programmes such as wild life documentaries and children's shows.

BBC producer Trevor Philpott, maker of an investigative series called The Philpott File, came to film a documentary series about the arrival of TV in the last industrialised country to acquire it. Included in the filming was an interview with me at Show Service and footage of a theatre managements' meeting.

Adam Leslie's Adam Scrapes the Barrel, which followed Adam's Laugh-In, proved to be the last show at the theatre which Adam and his friend and partner, Bill Hudson, had so lovingly created in the building designed by Sir Herbert Baker at the turn of the century. By late 1975 Adam, who had suffered a series of heart attacks, was now seriously ill with cancer. It was a sad reflection on our times that nobody was interested in taking over the theatre and, to Bill Hudson's eternal bitterness, the building had to be put up for auction in 1976. Even sadder, it failed to find a buyer and was hired out as a disco, where a fire broke out in 1977, ravaging the beautiful interior.

Graham and I spent much time with Adam and Bill, and I was with Adam when he left his beautiful home (originally the apartment of African Theatres founder I.W. Schlesinger) for the last time, fighting off the inevitable all the way to the hospital where the final curtain fell on his life in May 1979. His contribution to our cultural life had indeed been unique, and many were greatly saddened by his death

Many years previously, when Adam's wife Judith had died of cancer, Bill Hudson had moved in, organised the household, helped to bring up Adam's two small sons, and was the rock behind all the practical planning and administration of the theatre, including the execution of Adam's brilliant ideas. Tragically, this quietly remarkable man was brutally murdered in 1981.

In April 1975 actor Charlton Heston joined Arthur Ashe at the Celebrity Tennis in aid of the Black Tennis Foundation and told the press that they felt their presence was more constructive than boycotts. On the day Heston was due to play it rained, and I found myself, at Owen Williams' request, escorting the famous movie star to a jewellery store in the centre of town to buy an anniversary gift for his wife. Two of Heston's films were on at the time and walking down Commissioner Street with Moses and Ben-Hur was an experience never to be forgotten! Passers-by stopped in their tracks in disbelief and bewilderment, and I thoroughly enjoyed the whole episode, during which Mr Heston and I discussed in detail the production of Macbeth in which I'd seen him three months earlier.

The second celebrity tennis occasion of the year took place in September to raise funds for the African Music and Drama Association (AMDA). Established in 1959, AMDA was the training wing of Union Artists, set up to teach music, speech, drama and art to talented young black people to equip them for professional careers. In due course, overseas scholarships were instituted, and as the African Music and Drama Trust, the organisation continued to flourish. With the pop group The Three Degrees engaged as the centrepiece of the 'Night of the Stars' banquet at the Carlton Hotel at the end of the tournament week, the event was billed as The Three Degrees Celebrity Tennis Tournament. It would have been more accurately called the Liz and Richard Show since, at Ellis Park, at the Landdrost Hotel, in the streets of Johannesburg and at the Celebrity Banquet (a snip at R75 per head), the attraction was the possibility of seeing Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton, divorced but together, at close quarters. The famous pair were here, not to play tennis, but, along with other similarly invited celebrities, to contribute to the fund-raising by their presences.

The visit was a three-ring circus in which even Beatle Ringo Starr received scant attention (Peter Lawford, Dino Martin- son of Dean-John Marley and The Three Degrees even less), as the press and public followed every move made by Liz and Richard. These included dancing at Annabel's nightclub where Richard Loring performed the cabaret for which they arrived late, Liz in jeans and T-shirt, and apologised profusely to Richard for keeping him waiting- a trip to Ipi-Tombi which they thoroughly enjoyed and where they met the cast, and their eagerly awaited appearance at the tennis where they kept the crowd and the State President Dr Diederichs waiting for almost two hours.

All was forgiven, however, in the face of Elizabeth's stunning beauty, Richard's good looks and melodious Welsh voice, and the charm and good humour with which they dealt with all the South Africans who crossed their path. Even the President melted in Elizabeth's company.

I met Elizabeth at the tennis and can vouch for her charm. I took my mother and my sister-in-law Joyce to the banquet, where Elizabeth made a gracious and witty speech and Richard encouraged the guests to come to the main table to see his ex-wife's famous jewels. Everybody was dazzled by the beauty of the diamonds, but the beauty with the violet eyes left the lasting impression. Very soon after that evening, the Burtons remarried at Chobe in Botswana.

What with Stephane Grappelli, thirty black soul singers, twenty Israeli Chassidic Song Festival singers, the Celebrity Tennis and several other artists in town, Johannesburg was a very busy place that spring and, clutching my vast sheaf of print-outs and booking plans, I seemed to be on the run twenty-four hours a day trying to be everywhere at once.

Earlier in the year, in May, I had been interviewed by Carel Birkby of the Sunday Times. The interview was published as a full-page feature (complete with photograph of me and my dog Katie!), detailing how the Computicket system had revolutionised the entertainment industry and revealed huge untapped markets beyond the confines of Johannesburg. I am quoted as saying that 'Fortunes can be made or lost in show business more quickly than on the Stock Exchange.' This hasn't changed.

Then, in the July issue of Panorama, a magazine circulated abroad by the government to several organisations including consulates, an illustrated article similarly discussed the benefits of the system to South African show business, and we received a further boost from a piece in the influential American Variety. There was a resultant surge of interest in Computicket, including an enquiry from Holland, and a visit from Fred McKay, the financial director of Australia's Hoyt's Cinema chain to view the system at work.

I was greatly honoured when, in October, I became the first (and, to date, the only) person in the entertainment industry to win the Marketing Man of the Year Award, given by the Institute of Marketing Management. Delighted that my mother was there to enjoy this occasion I used my acceptance speech to emphasise once again that Computicket was not merely a booking agency, but the eyes and ears of the entertainment industry to which it offered an all-embracing service.

A suitably musical Christmas season kept Johannesburg entertained during December. At His Majesty's Gypsy was still coming up roses and Joseph was exultantly back yet again for PACT at the Alexander. With JODS still dormant and busy fund-raising to equip the Alhambra Theatre as a permanent home, Dennis Reinecke at PACT Opera again plugged the gap and staged The Great Waltz.

With a book by Jerome Chodorov and the music of both Johann Strauss senior (composer of 'Tales from the Vienna Woods') and his son Johann junior ('The Blue Danube Waltz'), the show dealt with the conflict between the two. An opulent concoction of tears, smiles, Viennese music and period sets and costumes, it was popularly referred to by audiences, who revelled in it, as 'The Great Schmaltz'.

A formidable team was assembled to give The Great Waltz the full treatment. Anthony Farmer was engaged to direct and to design the sets, and Neels Hansen the costumes. Conductor Leo Quayle was the musical director and Geoffrey Sutherland the choreographer. Lawrence Folley · was cast as Strauss senior with Michael Renier as his son, while Jean Fenn, who had played the role in America, was brought out for the starring role of Helene Vernet.

Tony Farmer's spectacular sets and staging culminated in a ballroom finale in which the entire orchestra rose on a rostrum, linked to pulleys which enabled it to be pulled upstage where the musicians formed a background against which grand staircases moved in, chandeliers materialised, and father and son were reconciled while the company danced the famous waltz over a stage which now included the covered-over orchestra pit. The scene was the talk of the town and the demand for seats was huge.

The day we opened booking for the actual Christmas week, the figures were astonishing, and I phoned Eghard van der Hoven with the good news. Initially he doubted that the sums were right, but I persuaded him that not only was the money pouring in, but he should schedule a revival for Christmas 1976. Which he did, with similar success. It was a perfect Christmas offering, played by a delightful group of people. Graham and I became good friends with Jean Fenn and her husband Bill Farwell, who spent both their Johannesburg Christmases with us, and were entertained by many of our friends here.

During the final rehearsal week of The Great Waltz Dennis Reinecke invited our fledgling TV service to film the ballroom scene. It was all very exciting, but the entertainment industry, while sensing the possible advantages of the new medium, went into 1976 with a measure of anxiety about its effects on the box office. In the event, when the service began on 1 January, providing five hours viewing from 6 p.m. every night, with extra afternoon hours on Saturday for sport, nothing much seemed to change.

Only Tuesday nights became a problem when, for thirteen weeks, Thames Television's magnificent and compulsive documentary series, The World at War was shown. On these nights, the streets of all our cities were deserted as the nation glued itself to the box, with people who had no set watching with friends who did. The country could have been invaded and nobody would have been any the wiser. Within a few weeks certain managements attempted to counter the fall in Tuesday audiences by taking the curtain up at 6 p.m. thus allowing people to get home in time for the programme.

In April I received a letter from Trevor Philpott whose programme on South African TV was soon to be broadcast in Britain. He asked me for confirmation that our leisure industry had been severely hit. I replied that this was far from the case, even sending him copies of the figures for the first quarter of 1976 reflecting one of the highest attendance rates we had ever had. Nonetheless, the four-episode documentary that went out was one of the most inaccurate and biased programmes on South Africa ever screened by the venerable BBC. It gave the impression that we had become a nation of 'couch potatoes' overnight and concluded that 'the magnates of South Africa's once mighty entertainment industry might as well surrender to television on their knees because it will decimate them and there is probably nothing much they can do to save themselves.

'This was all reported in the press, as was the declaration by Kinekor's managing director, Robert Howey, that his company had embarked on a R10 million expansion programme despite any threats from TV.

Early in 1976, the Computicket head office staff were brought together under one roof for the first time when we moved to National Board House in Pritchard Street. I felt terribly alienated at first, deprived of my contact with the daily queues at Show Service with which I'd lived for twenty-two years, but at least my management computer terminal gave me instant access to all the information I needed in terms of daily takings and other booking statistics.

Two years previously Philip Berold, an architect who worked for the Johannesburg City Council, had asked me to come and look at the old Indian Fruit Market which was standing empty and disused on the corner of Bree and Wolhuter Streets. It was a marvellous old building, full of period character, and Philip enthused over its potential for conversion into a theatre, which was being planned.

Interested parties were invited to tender for the premises and, in April 1975, a dream came true for Barney Simon and Mannie Manim when the contract was awarded to The Company. In July 1975 the Market Theatre Foundation was formed under the chairmanship of Murray McClean to raise funds for the conversion and management of the theatre.

On 4 January 1976, Graham and I, with our friends Ethel and Zelma London, donned evening dress to pick our way through rubble and scaffolding to a room in the Market for a fund-raising evening during which we dined by candlelight and enjoyed a compilation of poetry, drama and music called Pleasure and Repentance that had originated at the Royal Shakespeare Company in London. The show was directed by Barney and the cast comprised Michael McCabe, Ron Smerczak, Keith Blundell, who provided the 'onstage' music, and Janet Suzman who had played in the show in London and had come home for the occasion. It was an extraordinary evening, packed with interested well-wishers who responded to the special atmosphere of this building.

I persuaded my board at Computicket that it was essential to make a donation to this epoch-making enterprise and handed the cheque over to Mannie with much pride in his achievements. I had watched him mature from a youthful usher at the Brooke Theatre to a significant force in the development of our theatre.

While building continued at The Market, scheduled to open officially towards the end of the year, Phoenix Players, the producing arm of Union Artists, found themselves in financial difficulties. For twenty years or so Phoenix had flirted with the law as the hub of black live arts activity, and, within their limited resources, they had also tried to provide arts activities at different levels throughout the Republic and - a vital objective - to get township children involved in projects during weekends and school holidays. Now, with The Company and JODS also looking for benefactors, their income had taken a nose dive. By April, with Dr Treurnicht's announcement that blacks in urban areas could not attend drive-in movies, Phoenix suffered another setback, losing their fund-raising evenings at drive-ins. The Minister's announcement was hardly surprising - in 1971, to cries of horror, disbelief and derision, the government had announced that cinemas could employ coloured usherettes provided they did not look at the screen!

One of Phoenix's fund-raising endeavours brought internationally successful South African jazz pianist Dollar Brand (later Abdullah Ibrahim) back to give an electrifying concert at Wits Great Hall; a bighearted, bouncy all-American group called The Realistics gave two free shows at the Central Methodist Church, and Pieter Toerien and Shirley Firth donated special performances at which a blind eye was turned to skin colour at the Intimate Theatre. For long-standing members of Phoenix such as myself, the music events brought back vivid memories of the old days when we listened to, among others, Hugh Masekela, The Manhattan Brothers and the Woody Woodpeckers, as well as Alf Herbert's Township Jazz.

The Australian comedian and entertainer Rolf Harris, who had already delighted South African audiences in 1974, followed The Great Waltz into the Civic and drew capacity houses for his off-beat humour and the deft sketches he made during the show which he handed out to lucky members of the audience. (One of these witty sketches still hangs in the green-room of the Civic Theatre).

In February my old friend Jeannette Ordman, the artistic director of Israel's Bat-Dor Ballet Company, brought this avant-garde troupe on their first visit, playing the Nico Malan in Cape Town and the Civic in Johannesburg. The large audiences were encouragingly responsive.

At His Majesty's, with Gypsy playing in the evenings, Joan and Louis again ventured into setwork Shakespeare for schools at matinees, presenting Henry IV, Part One, directed by visiting Londoner John Sichel with Michael McGovern. Gypsy ran until the end of February by which time attendances had dropped alarmingly. The show was really the first victim of television, though not in the way one might think.

Louis invited SABC TV to shoot extracts from Gypsy which, theoretically, would give the show huge publicity and a corresponding box office boost. The film, however, had the opposite effect, due both to inexperience and sheer ineptitude on the part of the TV crew. We were all horrified to behold the mockery that was made of the musical by the appalling camerawork. The dreadful lighting and colour which turned Libby Morris completely mauve during a solo was enough to put anyone off ever coming near His Majesty's and we watched the bookings plummet. For many years TV coverage was to do more damage than good. At the time of writing, the quality has substantially improved, but the quantity of arts coverage is pitifully small.

Once again, PACT plugged the hole left by Gypsy with Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat, which yet again worked its magic, despite the temporary absence of Richard Loring. Alvon Collison took over as the Narrator, while the show's composer Tim Rice, on a visit to South Africa, stepped in as Pharaoh. It was a great bonus for Joseph fans, and a great compliment to the production, which Tim pronounced the best he'd seen. He also remarked that the royalties from the numerous South African productions had helped to save his and Andrew Lloyd Webber's Really Useful Company from financial embarrassment!

In February the government set up a Commission of Inquiry into the Performing Arts with Taubie Kushlick, Hymie Udwin, Des and Dawn Lindberg and myself representing the theatre managements, but the public was more interested in the arrival of Tom Jones, the dynamic Welshman with the big voice and the thrusting pelvis. With hits such as 'Delilah', 'What's New Pussycat' and 'The Green Green Grass of Home', Jones had become a Las Vegas regular and an international superstar and made his visit here for Yango John and Alec Magua.

For want of a big open-air venue, Yango reluctantly staged the very expensive Tom Jones show at the Colosseum with its limited seating capacity. In an effort to recoup costs he charged a high of R12,50- too high for the bulk of Tom's fans, mainly suburban matrons. The show did reasonably well, but far from well enough, and lost a lot of money for Yango and his backers. Yango's losses were further increased by the astronomical bar bills run up by the singer and his entourage.

Meanwhile, another impresario, Don Hughes, had sunk into depression over the losses he sustained on A Little Night Music. Coreen Carr, who worked for Don, was very concerned about his state of mind, and when a Chinese agent came in to the office and showed her the brochures for a show he wanted to present here, she thought it the answer to the slump in the Hughes Organisation. She had a battle royal to get her melancholy boss to see the man, but her insistence paid off, and Don agreed to present The Chinese Circus of Taiwan. It changed his life. The show ran to capacity houses at the Civic Theatre for twelve weeks and toured the country, after which Don profitably took the troupe to Las Vegas. His association with the Taiwan circus continued for several years that saw a visit to Russia as well as a return to South Africa, by which time it had made him a wealthy man.

Answering the endless call for large-scale venues to house international names and big shows, the Pieterse brothers Andre and Philo, built a 3 000-seater entertainment tent at Bruma, called the Film Trust Arena. It was scheduled to open at Easter with the imported ice-show, Disney on Parade, but rain throughout March and April, plus a leak which sprang in the completed tent, delayed the opening for a few days. However, publicity was excellent and so were advance sales.

On the great day of the opening, a matinee, I arrived to the kind of nightmare I'd come to dread. The seating arrangements bore no resemblance to the plan from which Computicket had been selling, and the public were pouring in only to discover - along with the ushers - that they were being separated from their companions (a party of six for example, would find that four of them were in one block and two of them at the other side of the tent) or, worse, that the block in which they had booked didn't exist. Since all the plans in the system were inaccurate, until they could be corrected, and the seats reallocated, which also caused difficulties for the front-of-house staff, the only way to deal with the chaos was to double the front-of-house staff and place people on a first come, first seated basis. I never wanted to go through that one again, but at least Disney on Parade lived up to expectation.

PACOFS, The Performing Arts Council for the Orange Free State (whose home, the Sand du Plessis Theatre, was the handsomest and best of the complexes newly built for the Arts Councils companies) had brought the New London Ballet to South Africa in 1973, led by Galina Samsova and André Prokovsky. Now they brought Ballet International in a programme of works choreographed by, among others, Jerome Robbins, Balanchine and Béjart and seen for the first time in this country. The genuinely international company included New York City ballet stars Peter Schaufuss, Suzanne Farrell and Peter Martins, the latter two breath taking in Balanchine's brilliant 'Diamond' pas de deux from his ballet Jewels. The Johannesburg season in March/ April, for which Merle Park joined the company from the Royal Ballet, was presented at the Colosseum, a theatre totally unsuited to ballet, and was consequently a great disappointment despite the glittering wares on offer.

In May, I missed one of my favourite musicians, the world-famous jazz violinist Stephane Grappelli, because Graham and I were on a visit to the Far East. On our arrival in Tokyo, the first sight that met our eyes opposite the Imperial Hotel was an enormous billboard advertising two South African films, e'Lollipop directed by Ashley Lazarus, and Emil Nofal's The Winners. The latter starred Joe Stewardson, but it was supporting actor Richard Loring's image that we beheld. We could hardly believe it. We experienced disbelief of a different kind with the wonderful experience of seeing the Kokusai revue in their own theatre.

We returned to Johannesburg well in time for the opening on 9 June of The Sound of Music at His Majesty's. The revival of this show, last seen with Heather Lloyd-Jones as Maria at the Brooke in 1963, was a co-production between Brickhill/Burke and PACT and starred 'Fair Lady' Diane Todd who had married and settled here. Joan and Louis directed and choreographed the production, with Louis also co-starring as Captain Von Trapp, while the Mother Abbess was played by Jarmilla Tellinger, who had fled to South Africa from her native Czechoslovakia (and later won the Gallo Award for her performance). Others in the cast included Terry Lester and Judy Page, one of South Africa's top cabaret and recording talents who had made her theatre debut in Berlin to Broadway before a stint with Jacques Brel. The show was well-received and came back for a two-month re-run in May the following year.

On 16 June 1976, exactly a week after the opening of The Sound of Music, the country erupted in flames and bullets. A peaceful march by Soweto schoolchildren protesting against the imposition of tuition in Afrikaans was fired on by police, starting a chain of violence and retribution, whose legacy would affect the country for decades.
CHAPTER FORTY

ANGER AND AFTER

The June 16 Soweto uprising resulted in an unprecedented wave of detentions, bannings and deaths- the hallmark of the last decades of the apartheid regime. Against this repressive background which spread a pall of anxiety over the country, life for the privileged- yet again- seemed, at least on the surface, to continue much as before. This was certainly true for the entertainment industry. Television coverage of the riots was carefully controlled, limiting the impact of these events on the white public. It was a few months before the full horror penetrated and at Computicket there was no discernible drop in sales except during the fuel restrictions imposed later in the year when petrol stations were closed from 6 p.m. on Fridays until Monday mornings.

Another sporadic problem after the Soweto riots was organised stayaways of black workers. This led me to the first of several confrontations with the board of Computicket. Most of our staff were willing to work but were prevented from doing so by the absence of transport. The board decreed that pay would be docked from those who didn't report for work, a ruling with which I adamantly refused to comply.

At the beginning of June, it was announced that 43 000 television licences had been issued and, ironically, I had announced that, despite the introduction of TV, ticket sales for shows had broken all records, totalling R10 million in the Transvaal alone.

On 21 June the small auditorium known as Upstairs at the Market opened with Barney Simon's production of Chekhov's The Seagull. Erica Rogers played Arkadina, Vanessa Cooke was Nina and the other roles were taken by Sandra Prinsloo, Bill Brewer, Marius Weyers, Danny Keogh, Lindsay Reardon and Bess Finney. Barney followed this with another production of The Crucible which served as a bleak parable for the times. The Market Cafe opened in July 1976 under the management of David Marks, leaving only the main theatre to open.

At the Diepkloof Hall in Soweto on 13 May, Des and Dawn Lindberg had opened their production of the musical The Black Mikado with a vibrant and talented multi-racial company, most of whom had been recruited at open auditions in Dorkay House. Government permission for a mixed cast was refused, but, despite the newly repressive climate, the Lindbergs defied the ruling by a simple expedient designed to beat the system. For The Black Mikado and their subsequent revival of Godspell, Des and Dawn formed a club called South African Living Theatre (SALT). Every performance was a private show and every person who bought a ticket, regardless of race, was automatically a member of SALT and thus entitled to attend.

The show went on to play in Coronationville and Pietersburg, in Pretoria (at the Loreto Convent) and Pietermaritzburg, and for a month at Durban's Lyric Theatre before opening at the Brooke on 29 July. No official action was taken against it or its producers, but phones were tapped, company car tyres were slashed in the grounds of Loreto Convent, and numerous death threats included the desecration of the Lindbergs' Hough ton driveway with the slogan 'Julle Gaan Vrek'.

Astonishingly, in the wake of the Soweto uprising and the atmosphere of continuing unrest which did little to improve South Africa's image abroad, foreign artists continued to come here. The first of these was the internationally adored Greek crooner Demis Roussos, a gargantuan mountain of flesh weighing in at 111 kilos with a larger-than-life personality to match. Offstage, he was a bon viveur and a bit of a hell raiser with, unsurprisingly, a staggeringly large appetite for food and drink which, in some amazement, I watched him consume on the several occasions we dined together. On stage at the Colosseum, Demis, dressed in a glittering caftan, with coloured lights pulsating around his massive person, bewitched his audience with sentimental ballads and beat them into final submission with uncompromising rock 'n' roll.

Demis Roussos came out for Ronnie Quibell, another show business character who consistently refused to be bludgeoned by political considerations or the shortage of suitable venues and had, in the past few years, brought out Vicky Leandros, Cilia Black, Engelbert Humperdinck and Petula Clark. In August 1976 Ronnie gave me the following bizarre advertisement to place in the press: 'A 5-Star Show, the greatest artist since Liberace, in the calibre of Sinatra, Europe's greatest entertainer who plays for Kings and Queens, Princes and Princesses, President and Prime Ministers, a True World Star who gives you plain goose pimples. WHAT AN ARTIST! Europe's great film star and stage entertainer ... The one and only Charles Azvanour!'

He meant Aznavour, of course, but that was Ronnie! Hazel Feldman, who handled the Quibell publicity and public relations, hadn't seen this particular piece of copy or she would have picked up on the misprint. The beguilingly - and deceptively - romantic Aznavour played to a warm reception at the Colosseum.

Basil Michael presented Ice Frolics at the Carlton Centre Ice Rink. Monday nights were designated for Coloureds and Indians, blacks were refused admission at any time. The glimmers of light appeared to be fading, at least in Johannesburg. Mercedes Molina, still tapping her flamenco heels, gave two seasons of Spanish dance, one at the Arena and the other at the Civic, where Italian tenor and opera star Carlo Bergonzi gave recitals for PACT before touring for the other provincial arts councils. And PACT Ballet brought back Natalia Makarova with Royal Ballet premier danseur Anthony Dowell as guest artists in Swan Lake, and Eva Evdokimova and Peter Breuer for Sleeping Beauty.

Then, despite disappointments with the previous tour and a shortage of funds, PACOFS sponsored another Ballet International tour headed by Galina Samsova and Andre Prokovsky. This time the disappointment was crushing and the Johannesburg season at His Majesty's a financial disaster, aggravated by the clash with PACT's Civic season and programme. The corps de ballet and orchestra were below acceptable standard - at one moment during Sleeping Beauty the orchestra lost its way and came to a halt, leaving the dancers to carry on to the accompaniment of an improvised piano. The tour, which drew audiences only in the Free State, was a near-fiasco and courted much bad publicity because PACOFS had blown their government grant, earmarked for the promotion of local ballet, on an entirely imported company. It was the last Ballet International tour.

I had made many attempts to persuade the Pieterse brothers, who ran Cintrust which controlled Metro cinemas in South Africa, to place Metro bookings in Computicket's hands. At long last agreement was reached, only to be scuppered by my board who refused the contract on the grounds that it would give Metro equal status with Ster and Kinekor. This led me into another altercation, but my argument that we were turning our backs on valuable income from a public who couldn't care less whether the film they wanted to see came from Metro or Kinekor, were to no avail. Both as the managing director of Computicket and as a shareholder, I was very disheartened by the board's short-sightedness and prejudice, and very taken aback by this uncharacteristic interference with my decisions.

Leading members of the profession continued, against all the odds of 1976, to press for complete racial equality in theatres. In August, addressing the first international symposium of the South African Institute of Theatre Technology at the Civic, Mannie Manim reiterated that we 'must open doors to blacks if the theatre in South Africa is to survive'. He pointed out that it was vital for the theatre to extend its market, that eighty per cent of the population (twenty million people) could only attend live performances on specially designated nights. 'The incredible records of long-running productions in black areas,' said Manim, 'indicate that most of these people would welcome the chance to see live theatre.'

While arguing the economic case for desegregation, Mannie emphasised that open theatres would clear the way to breaking the playwrights' boycott, giving audiences the chance to see the best of the world's plays by living writers. He ended his impassioned and persuasive plea with these words: 'What mirror of a mixed society can be shown with only segregated casts? It means our theatre must continue to tell lies. False theatre is bad theatre and bad theatre is soon empty theatre. We in this country are sitting on a kaleidoscope of theatrical possibilities. We must be given every chance to build on the good work done by Des and Dawn Lindberg and The Space.'

On 4 October 1976, after many meetings among the theatre managements and with government representatives, a memorandum was submitted to the government urging that all race groups be admitted to South African theatres. That this procedure was necessary at all since the opening of the Nico Malan to mixed audiences was the height of absurdity. Another memorandum to the Minister made a formal demand for restrictions to be lifted on mixed casts.

On 13 October the first newspaper article appeared about the lifting of audience restrictions. Headlined 'Ministers Probe Show Apartheid', the piece reported that a government committee was investigating the systems of apartheid in place in white areas. Among those serving on the committee were the Ministers of Justice Jimmy Kruger), Bantu Administration and Development (M.C. Botha) Indian Affairs and Community Development (Mr Steyn), Coloured Relations (Mr Smit) and Planning (Dr van der Merwe). In a follow-up article, the influential Afrikaans morning newspaper, Die Transvaler, commented that there was 'a sophisticated Black and Brown theatre group which had to be taken into account as a theatre public'.

Despite such declarations and ongoing efforts to work against apartheid, John Kani and Winston Ntshona were arrested in Umtata after a performance of Sizwe Banzi is Dead. The actors were charged with breaches of the Internal Security Act: playing before mixed audiences, undermining the integrity of the State, promoting violence and hatred and furthering the aims of Communism.

Kani and Ntshona were well-known and highly regarded in London and New York, and the news provoked a monumental cry of outrage. In London, there were demonstrations outside South Africa House by top members of the acting fraternity, calls for a total boycott of South African theatre and representations to Prime Minister Callaghan by respected director Peter Brook to make an official request to the South African government for their release.

In New York, producer Alexander Cohen and actor Al Pacino led a 20 000-strong protest march to the United Nations. Petitions demanding the release of the actors were posted in every Broadway theatre. These actions were unprecedented in that city.

In Umtata, the Justice Minister George Mantanzima first appeared unmoved, but John and Winston were released shortly afterwards.

The official opening of the Market Theatre's main house took place on 19 October with The Company's production of German playwright Peter Weiss' Marat/Sade \- a necessary and international shorthand for The Persecution of Jean-Paul Marat as Performed by the Inmates of the Asylum of Charenton Under the Direction of the Marquis de Sade.

Under Barney Simon's direction, the Marquis de Sade was played by Kenneth Hendel, Marat by Wilson Dunster and Charlotte Corday (the role which made Glenda Jackson famous at the Royal Shakespeare Company) by Sandra Prinsloo. This extraordinary piece, with its complex shifts of historical perspective and political debate, enacted in a madhouse, was a fitting baptism for a theatre where ambitious risk-taking and political argument would become a hallmark. Shortly after the opening of Marat/Sade Johannesburg City Councillor Francois Oberholzer laid a complaint about the play with the Publications Control Board who, thankfully, allowed the run to continue.

There was rather more of a brouhaha with the authorities when, also in October, the great jazz pianist Dave Brubeck came out to play at the Colosseum, a doubly unique event since he was to be accompanied on stage by his three musician sons. Brubeck was being presented by Graham Wright and Beryl Benn, and it was with much excitement that Graham called me to say that permits had been granted for mixed audiences at two of the concerts, one being the opening night. We published the good news, and the opening night was quickly sold out. Then, the afternoon before the opening, came a call from Treurnicht's office withdrawing the permits.

Next morning Graham Wright and I rushed to Pretoria to see the Minister, who remained adamant in the face of the young impresario's pleadings. Eventually I butted in. 'Tonight's house is full,' I told him. 'The theatre will not be open because Mr Brubeck will not play since your office, who gave him permission for a multi-racial show, has now withdrawn the permit. Two thousand three hundred people will be coming into Commissioner Street. If there is a riot we will hold you responsible. We will also inform the local and overseas press that you have changed the decision which we had from you in writing.'

With that, we left.

At four that afternoon a letter was hand-delivered to Graham Wright giving permission for the performance to go on. I fetched Mrs Brubeck at seven and found her in a dreadful state, having received an anonymous phone call threatening death to her husband and sons if they set foot in the Colosseum. We went immediately to the theatre and spoke to Dave, who insisted that the concert go on. I got hold of the police, whose reluctance to provide security was shocking, although eventually they did send some men for whom I hurriedly arranged special seating at various vantage points.

The Brubeck concert was a never to be forgotten evening. Mrs Brubeck and I, in a state of tension and worry, held hands for two hours during which, thank God, the threats never materialised. And the pianist himself enchanted the audience with his incandescent mastery of the keyboard. He and his sons had a delirious reception, as did black South African double bass player Victor Ntoni, whose appearance with the Brubecks horrified the authorities. One son, Darius Brubeck, fell in love with the country and settled here, becoming a teacher in the music faculty at Natal University in Durban.

The next October hiccup was a piece of moralistic idiocy that concerned Juliet Prowse and the Sunday Observance Act. The gorgeously leggy and talented Miss Prowse, though not born here, had grown up in Vanderbijlpark and South Africa was pleased to claim her as its own when she found stardom in the USA. She appeared at the Film Trust Arena in a fabulous show that demonstrated her professionalism and offered a wonderful spectacle of dance, as well as songs and comedy. Typical of the rave reviews was one that said the show was 'glamorous, glossy, dynamic, delightful and dramatic, sizzling, sparkling and seductive'! Andre and Philo Pieterse organised a special champagne farewell show to begin at 11 p.m. on Saturday, 30 October. Bookings were coming along splendidly when it was realised that the show would run into early Sunday morning, contravening the Sunday Observance Act and its accompanying liquor laws. What should have been a thoroughly enjoyable occasion was cancelled and I was back in the refund game.

Sadly, Juliet Prowse died, aged fifty-nine, of pancreatic cancer, on 14 September 1996.

The Market had enjoyed much success with Fatima Dike's The Sacrifice of Kreli and a popular children's matinee show, Adventures of a Merry Madcap, written and directed by Janice Honeyman. They were to end their first season in the main house with Trevor Griffiths' award winning British play, Comedians, in which the nature of comedy is subtly explored through the interaction and routines of a group of aspirants training to be stand-up comedians, and who express themselves in a less than delicate idiom. Leonard Schach was signed to direct Bill Brewer, Michael Howard, Danny Keogh, Richard Cox, Ian Hamilton, Robert Whitehead and Anthony James, with designs by Anthony Farmer.

On 23 December, after the play had been running for a week, Mannie called me to say that it had been banned as 'obscene, harmful to public morals and blasphemous'. It was a bolt from the blue - we were unaware of any complaints having been lodged- and the audience arriving for the performance that night had to be turned away.

With the Christmas holidays upon us, nothing could be done for a few days. Then, on 27 December, one of the strangest performances in The Market's short history took place when Comedians was put on trial with a private performance for four members of the Publications Appeal Board. Some hundred or so people were invited to inject a bit of atmosphere, among them Graham and I to lend moral support to Leonard, our house-guest at the time.

The next day the appeal was argued in Pretoria at a hearing lasting four-and-a-half hours. Advocate Ernest Wentzel, instructed by attorney and founder Market Trustee Raymond Tucker, appeared for The Market, and evidence was given by Leonard and, appearing as an expert witness, PACT's François Swart. The decision hung on a limerick deemed 'filthy' by the Appeal Board, who gave the appellants access to a collection of banned books to find a replacement! In the end, the original limerick was retained with a euphemism in place of an offending word, and a couple of additional expletives removed.

Such was the waste of time and money that prevailed in the dark years. Mannie had kept Trevor Griffiths, a highly political animal, informed of the situation and much to his surprise, Griffiths allowed the play to continue. It reopened on 29 December with a 4-18 age restriction, but despite the controversy, normally guaranteed to bring the public flocking, the holiday season intervened, and this splendid play and production languished with only sparse attendance.

Meanwhile, Upstairs at The Market audiences had seen, without interference from the authorities, a revival of Fugard's The Blood Knot directed by Benjy Francis with himself and Fats Bookholane, a revival of Waiting for Godot by the same director with an all-black cast, One Friday in Jerusalem directed by Garalt MacLiam (later drama critic for The Star), and Pieter-Dirk Uys' bilingual God's Forgotten. This co-starred Christine Basson, Magda Beukes and Lynne Maree and marked Pieter-Dirk's first association with The Market.

In a year dominated by upheaval, struggle and protest, it is odd to look back and see that the usual diet of mostly light entertainment remained 335 JUST THE TICKET! in place, and so, on the whole, did its audience, no doubt happy for some light relief in troubled times. Toerien/Firth brought back Owen Holder for another impersonation of the Duke of Windsor in For the Woman I Love by Crown Matrimonials Royce Ryton; Hywel Bennett was imported to star in Simon Gray's Otherwise Engaged in which Sandra Duncan appeared topless, thus ensuring audiences for an otherwise serious play; well-known West End director Frith Banbury staged a revival of Frederick Lonsdale's 1920s comedy, On Approval, starring a real gentleman of the British theatre, Richard Todd, and West End actress Moyra Fraser. Local actors got a look-in with the thriller Double Edge, in which Britain's Anthony Sharp directed Michael Atkinson, Shelagh Holliday and Michael McGovern, the latter having completed a year-long run opposite Ros Drinkwater in the two-handed romantic comedy Same Time Next Year.'

Pieter and Shirley extended their empire by taking a lease on the Little Theatre and renaming it the Barnato, after pioneering mining magnate Barney Barnato. Their opening production Caught in the Act, devised and directed by England's Charles Ross with Anna Quayle and Graham Armitage lasted a mere three weeks- but June was hardly a propitious month for this new venture. The year's major success at the Barnato was Royce Ryton's The Other Side of the Swamp, an audacious and affectionate tragi-comedy about the relationship between an ageing man and a young one. The author himself came out to co-star with Eckard Rabe under Graham Armitage's direction, and the production earned unanimous rave notices which resulted in a year-long run.

PACT's full programme at the Alexander (where the remaining Reps members retained booking privileges) included Ian Ferguson's Falstaff with Richard Haines; Thornton Wilder's Our Town directed by John Hussey with Diane Wilson, Danny Keogh and Michael McCabe and Session, workshopped by company members under Richard Haines' direction. A prolific year for Ken Leach included his production of Feydeau's A Flea in Her Ear with an all-star PACT cast that included Frantz Dobrowsky, Dorothy Ann Could, Diane Wilson, Richard Haines, Paul Slabolepszy, Michael Richard, Annelisa Weiland and Lesley Nott (later Mrs Mannie Manim); Pieter Fourie's Conspiracy starring Patrick Mynhardt and, at the Rosebank Arena, Frank Wedekind's Lulu plays.

Among the opera highlights from PACT was Verdi's La Forza del Destino, produced by Covent Garden's Ande Anderson with Maria Luisa Cioni, Bruno Prevedi and Niccola Zaccaria; and, an adventurous choice for South Africa, Janacek's Jenufa with Nellie du Toit in the title role. The company had another success with a musical, reviving Stop the World, I Want to Get Off, with Diane Wilson and David Gilchrist.

At the Pieter Roos in the Civic, Ruth Oppenheim presented herself in Cocteau's monologue of rejection and desperation, The Human Voice. And at the Lake Parkview, Faan se Stasie, the sequel to Faan se Trein, was successful. These plays were both written by Pieter Fourie, the fiery artistic director of KRUIK, CAPAB's Afrikaans company, and presented by Cape producers John Birch and Carl de Gouveia.

Earlier in the year Rex Garner and Penny Croft had starred in another frothy comedy, Why Not Stay for Breakfast? at the Academy, where Birds of Paradise then played a return season. And at the Colosseum in November, Yango John brought a lavish spectacle from Las Vegas with star attractions the Polynesian singer Si Zentner with his twenty-strong band, Frankie Stevens and the group Living Sound.

In the midst of all this theatrical activity, Computicket added another sport to its growing list when Owen Emslie asked us to handle the South African Squash Championships. Also in the sports arena, we booked for the International Gymnastics, another event under government auspices which, despite the disfavour in which we were viewed abroad, brought participants from Israel, West Germany and the USA.

On 22 November, Peter Feldman in The Star Tonight wrote that Johannesburg was gearing itself for a multi-million-rand Christmas stage bonanza. He quoted me as saying, 'Despite a year of strife, what with social unrest and the advent of TV, live theatre will close 1976 with a loud and lusty bang. Shows ... will cost over R2 million to stage.'

It was true. In addition to the full schedule of plays and children's attractions running during the holiday season, the public flocked to see PACT's revival of The Great Waltz; Sergio Franchi, returning home in his complete show direct from the MGM Grand in Las Vegas to appear at the Film Trust Arena with his sister, Dana Valery, on the bill; a new Brickhill/Burke extravaganza; Cole, a musical revue based on the life of Cole Porter; and the pop group Rabbitt.

Given the hostility raging against South Africa in British theatre circles, Cole represented a surprising co-production between Hymie Udwin and Sir Bernard Miles. The cast comprised half South African artists and half British, and the South Africans were flown to London to rehearse at Sir Bernard's Mermaid Theatre before opening as an Academy presentation at the Brooke Theatre on 24 November.

Rabbitt, formed by Duncan Faure, Trevor Rabin, Neil Cloud and Ronny Robot (born Friedman), was the first local pop group to receive the kind of adulation normally reserved for visiting overseas artists. A South African answer to the Beatles, they attracted hordes of screaming teenage girls, some of whom literally fainted at the sight of their heroes. Rabbitt appeared at the Colosseum in December, compered by John Berks, then of Radio 5, and we could barely cope with the demand for posters as well as tickets. They were managed by Mike Fuller, whom I only met and worked with subsequently. I wished I'd known him then since I might have been able to persuade him to increase the meagre number of performances given by the group. Rabbitt was, in my view, a goldmine that ignored the opportunity to make a big killing, never meeting the huge demand of their fans, reflected in the rash of 'Rabbitt Rules ... OK' stickers all over the country.

When SATBEL's recording company, to whose label they were contracted, decided to close its doors in the early 1980s, Rabbitt disbanded. Trevor Rabin carved a solo career in the States, and Duncan Faure later made an overseas career with the Bay City Rollers. On 30 November, celebrating that theatre's thirtieth birthday, Follies Fantastique opened at His Majesty's, starring Joan Brickhill, Alvon Collison, American comedian Beni Mason, and a line-up of leggy lovelies in the Ziegfeld tradition. Once again, Joan and Louis provided glitz and glamour in their sets and costumes as well as their girls, and the show ran until April 1977.

At Christmas we booked for a big music festival called 'Swazi Summer', staged by Silverdale Concerts in Mbabane, our first ever contract with another country. During the boycott years booking for shows that were technically in another country became the norm.

To add to my already full and varied workload, I accepted an appointment to the new Consultative Committee for Work Permits, a body formed after a SAATM delegation (of which I was a member) went to see the Minister of the Interior in an effort to solve the problem of permits being issued by ill-informed civil service clerks. I later served as chairman of the Consultative Committee for some years and, at the time of writing, sit as the representative of the theatre managements.

I was also dealing with the ongoing interest of overseas managements in the Computicket system. Leon Gluckman had requested full details of the operation which he presented to the Society of West End Theatre Managements in London. Letters arrived from several of their members expressing interest. In September, Anthony Steel and Kevin Earle, the director and general manager of Australia's Adelaide Festival, spent a few days with us viewing the operation. And an association that would have major repercussions for all concerned began when one of Australia's most important impresarios, Harry M. Miller, came to South Africa, expressing interest in the Computicket system.

Miller had been excited by the idea of computerisation since 1970 when he had first learned about America's Ticketron from Andre Pieterse, who had now told him about Computicket. I gave Miller a tour of our terminals and a demonstration of the management facilities. He was very impressed and believed that our system was ideally suited to Australia and thus an excellent long-term investment for him. He invited Peter Campbell to address the theatrical managements in Australia on the viability of the system. Peter went early in 1977 and returned reasonably optimistic about the prospects of our first international sale.

The year ended with the announcement that TV sales were well below expectation, and a decision to delay our proposed 1977 opening of Computicket in Cape Town until we were more certain of the effects of TV and unrest on the entertainment industry. It was a delay that lasted for four years.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

STRUGGLES

The first major overseas entertainer to appear in South Africa in 1977 was Johnny Mathis, who opened at the Colosseum on 5 January for the Quibell Brothers. A superb athlete and, in his youth, a world-class high jumper, Mathis had, in 1956, to decide whether he would try for the American Olympic team or pursue his recording career. Music won over athletics, and his pleasingly light voice with its unusual vibrato, and his superb choice of romantic material, rocketed him to the top of his profession. He was still recording, and making the hit parade, in the Nineties and, uniquely, was able to build his phenomenal career without ever succumbing to rock 'n' roll.

I got to know Johnny quite well. He was a great guy and a keen golfer, whose only vanity consisted in having his hair blow-waved into a different style every night by the private hairdresser who travelled with his entourage. Graham and I took him to dinner several times, first having to ring around for a restaurant that would accommodate a black diner. Unfortunately, Johnny's range and individual style, known in the industry as 'Mathis Magic', attracted a predominantly adult and, in this country, white, audience, leaving the youth and the black fans unmoved. The season was well attended, but wasn't the success it should have been, and Ronnie Quibell lost money. Undeterred, he brought the New Seekers in February, and did reasonably well with them.

However, he then received a letter from the Department of the Interior stating that no further work permits for foreign artists would be issued until July. The decision arose from government efforts to stem the outward flow of currency during a time of economic crisis - a decision which not only affected the Quibells and other similarly placed impresarios, but Computicket's revenue. Ronnie had already signed contracts with overseas artists and was seriously concerned at the losses he would have to sustain. Furthermore, we were all perturbed by what we perceived as government in the operation of a private business.

The last artist to come for Ronnie in the first half of the year was Alan 'Elvis' Meyeres, one of a string of Presley impersonators who had sprung up. For the first night, Ronnie organised a band of teenagers to occupy the front rows and scream ecstatically at the appropriate moments. The ploy worked brilliantly in spreading the necessary mass hysteria through the house, and my PA Gail Jaffit and I strongly advised Ronnie to use it at every performance. He ignored the suggestion and lost a fortune when the show failed.

January brought a highly stylised, highly polished razzmatazz of a musical from PACT. Set in the gangster era of the roaring Twenties, Chicago had opened on Broadway in 1975, with music and lyrics by John Kander and Fred Ebb of Cabaret fame, and a book by Ebb and Bob Fosse, who directed and choreographed. Its great success was repeated here in a production directed and choreographed by Geoffrey Sutherland, with Annabel Linder and Judy Page in the starring roles. Although PACT's usually handled their own publicity, Hazel Feldman was engaged for Chicago, which opened on 27 January at the Alexander. A programme note read, 'Students of Dorkay House have been invited to attend rehearsals in Johannesburg and authors Ebb, Kander and Fosse have agreed to contribute a portion of their weekly royalties to Union Artists for the specific benefit of Dorkay House.'

Hazel also handled the publicity and PR for a British promoter named Mervyn Conn who had organised many Country-and-Western music festivals in England. He came here to present his show at the Film Trust Arena, announcing that a number of well-known Nashville names would appear. Small, swarthy and brim-full of cocky confidence, Conn let it be known that he had a thing or two to teach South African managements, but Hazel and I both advised him that his prices were far too high to attract customers in Johannesburg. Our advice was not heeded. Shortly before the opening, Mervyn came to my office to check on the bookings, which were disastrous. The next day rumours surfaced that the show would be cancelled, and I rang Mervyn, who said he was undecided as yet, but I should send over an account for the advertising and a cancellation fee and he would deliver a cheque in the morning. It was the last I heard from him. He skipped the country, leaving a mass of debts behind him, and Computicket was saddled with the advertising bills and the ticket refunds. In London, Conn ignored our calls and our lawyer's letters. Two years later, I bumped into him on 57th Street in New York, and we had an altercation with me calling him a liar and a thief. He remained unmoved and I knew we would never recover our costs. Mr Conn continued to operate his business overseas.

At Ronnie Quibell's request, the SAATM formed a committee consisting of Michal Grobbelaar, Graham English and myself to raise with the government the matter of permits for foreign artists. At a meeting with the Under-Secretary to the Department of the Interior we emphasised that the freedom to import products is a basic right of any industry, and we requested an explanation as to why the entertainment industry had been singled out for exclusion from this right. The cancellation of engagements was also of major concern to Jim Stodel, who informed me that the future of the Colosseum was now in serious jeopardy. This gave me cause for anxiety. We were now seeing the effects of political crisis and TV on our business, and if the Colosseum were to go, Computicket would suffer a sizeable loss of income.

The issue of segregated audiences was ongoing, as were correspondence and meetings between the SAATM and various government departments in an attempt to resolve the situation. In essence neither side would be swayed from its position. At the annual general meeting of the SAATM on 31 March 1977, chairman Michal Grobbelaar commented on the apparent unwillingness of the government ... 'to accept that the performing arts in this country have developed into a multi-million- rand industry and that it is here to stay ... The theatre has a vital role to play in the spiritual well-being of the people.'

On 16 May, a SAATM delegation (Michal Grobbelaar, Graham English, myself and CAPAB's Chris Swart) attended a meeting in Cape Town with the cabinet committee appointed to deal with the above matters. They told us categorically that the permit system would remain in place, but that the government would wish to extend a measure of latitude to members of the SAATM, while at the same time requiring a guarantee that those who wished to attend a performance other than as part of a multi-racial audience must be permitted to do so. The clear implication was that whites must be provided with choice. The meeting ended with the committee requesting us to submit a formula that would enable theatres to open to all races, subject to this guarantee.

After much debate, the SAATM concurred with Mannie Manim's assertion that nothing less than one-hundred per cent multi-racialism was acceptable. In our detailed letter to the cabinet committee, we again raised the anomaly of the Nico Malan theatre and pointed out that the committee's formula would achieve nobody's objectives. We suggested that theatres, like certain hotels, should be classified as 'international', thus freeing them of all racial restrictions.

Other meetings held between July and November with the Ministers of Community Development and Bantu Administration were largely nit-picking affairs concerned with who could apply for permits (only theatre owners or controllers) and how, and the larger issue was put aside until 1978, when the government was to advise us of its decisions.

During January, Ipi-Tombi opened in New York at the Harkness Theater, an out-of-the-way venue far from Broadway and passing theatre trade. This distinct disadvantage was not as serious as the political capital made by the Socialist Workers Party and the Patrice Lumumba Coalition. They threatened to have the show closed, complaining that a production trading off a black African cast but conceived and produced by whites was nothing more than a propaganda platform suppressing the truth of apartheid. After the show opened nightly demonstrations were staged outside the Harkness, and the New York papers ran hostile editorials. Unable to survive these negative forces, Ipi-Tombi closed within weeks, but went on to play for fifteen months at the Silverbird in Las Vegas.

On 2 March Mr J J. T. Marais, the managing director of SATBEL, announced the amalgamation of South Africa's two cinema giants. Henceforth, Ster-Kinekor, as it would be known, would operate one of the largest and most modern cinema circuits in the world which consisted then of one hundred and two cinemas, forty-five drive-ins and two ice rinks. The opening of new complexes at Cape Town's Golden Acre and at Eastgate in Johannesburg was also announced, together with the appointment of Sandro Pierotti and Robert Howey as joint directors, and Philip McDonald as executive in charge of the combined circuits.

JODS now owned the Alhambra Theatre and opened it on 17 April with A Night to Remember, a fund-raising occasion to help finance further refurbishment and equipment. Directed by Anthony Farmer, it comprised excerpts and musical numbers from JODS' repertoire across fifty years, performed by every available artist who had appeared for them in recent years.

Victoria de los Angeles returned to South Africa in May, jointly for PACT and CAPAB. She disliked singing in Johannesburg because of the altitude but nonetheless, as one critic had it, 'enslaved and seduced her audience'. The great soprano, though in her seventies was still singing at the time of writing. In contrast, 1977 ended the unhappy life, at age fifty-four, of the unique Maria Callas.

In May, Canadian interest in Computicket took me to Toronto to discuss the possibility of marketing the system there. I had been corresponding with Michael Heilbronn, a South African who had emigrated to Canada. Like many an ex-South African, he had noted the old-fashioned and cumbersome booking procedures at theatres and cinemas abroad and had approached me about the possibility of setting up Computicket, inviting our direct involvement in everything from training facilities to implementing the system. On his side, Heilbronn would procure sufficient financial backing and, crucially, secure enough committed customers to make Computicket viable.

On arrival in Toronto, I stated the purpose of my visit as business and, although I had visited the city several times previously, I was whisked off to a room by officials and subjected to a forty-five-minute diatribe on the evils of apartheid. How dared I, as a South African, they asked, attempt to do business in Canada. By the time they released me to a bewildered Michael, I felt I had been at police headquarters in Johannesburg, rather than Canadian Passport Control.

Over the next several hectic days, I met many prospective clients, most of whom agreed that our system was far in advance of Bay Area Seating Systems (BASS) which had begun operating in Canada. At Toronto's then largest venue, the 3 000-seater O'Keefe Centre, the queues served by twenty-seven cashiers using a manual system, reminded me forcibly of the old Show Service days. By the time I had met with executives from every facet of the performing arts, as well as the Toronto Blue Jays Baseball Club and the Royal Bank of Canada, it looked very likely that a contract would materialise within a few months. Michael and I finalised budgets, and matters were left pending the visit of a Canadian group to Johannesburg to see the system at work. I joined Graham in Los Angeles, arriving to the news that tenders had been invited by the League of New York Theaters to computerise booking for the venues in their control. A phone call to Martin Holley, president of the Interscience Corporation which was handling the bids, ascertained that I would have to go to New York immediately as tenders were about to close. After consulting Peter Campbell, I did just that, also visiting Wyle Laboratories in Boston, the manufacturers of our terminals, to inform them of our international negotiations.

I returned home to find an entertainment industry in trouble. Five Johannesburg theatres were dark and there were rumours that His Majesty's would finally have to close. In the midst of this spreading crisis, however, the Market Theatre had come through some difficult times. The theatre had been leased to PACT in February for a very successful revival of Journey's End directed by Norman Coombes with Dale Cutts, Frantz Dobrowsky, Richard Haines, Michael McCabe, John Rogers and Norman himself. After this, The Company had fared well with Barney Simon's revival of People Are Living There with Yvonne Bryceland, Wilson Dunster, Vanessa Cooke and Danny Keogh, and the ME nobody knows (sic) directed by Benjy Francis. This Broadway show, with music by Gary William Friedman and lyrics by Will Holt, had grown out of the writings of New York ghetto schoolchildren aged between seven and eighteen. Locally the multi-racial cast (Leonie Hofmeyr, Leslie Mongezi, Nomsa Nene, Barrie Shah, Jonathan Taylor) provoked an investigation by the Department of Bantu Administration but the show was allowed to proceed.

Computicket took bookings for 16 June, the first anniversary of the Soweto uprising but, from 1978 onwards the Market closed on this now official holiday as a mark of respect.

In June, John Kani and Winston Ntshona revived The Island. The stage manager was Alan Joseph who would become General Manager of the Market and, some twenty years later, chief executive director of PACT. The play attracted excellent business, as did Don't Drink the Water by Woody Alien, which The Space's Brian Astbury came from Cape Town to direct, while Upstairs at the Market Robert Kirby was packing them in with How Now Sacred Cow. Also, at the Upstairs, The Company, in association with the Academy, staged Murray Schisgal's Broadway comedy Luv, directed by Barney Simon with Wilson Dunster, Janice Honeyman and James White, but it failed to attract audiences.

The main house at the Market mounted Brecht's Mother Courage with Yvonne Bryceland and Aletta Bezuidenhout. Again, Barney Simon directed and then took on an Afrikaans translation of The Women of Troy for which he acquired a scintillating line-up of actresses: Aletta Bezuidenhout, Jana Cilliers, Grethe Fox, Sandra Prinsloo and Wilna Snyman. In November, The Company managed to get permission from British playwright Alan Ayckbourn to stage Absurd Person Singular. It was a major coup and this brilliantly clever comedy, designed by Anthony Farmer and co-directed by John Hussey and Mannie Manim with Diane Appleby, Graham Armitage, Naomi Buch, Wilson Dunster, Kerry Jordan and Gay Lambert, was a riotous success.

Also, in June, the Brooke Theatre presented Home at Seven with Brian Brooke and Vivienne Drummond, a production distinguished only by the length of its run- seventeen days. This was followed by revivals of The Moon is Blue with Clive Scott and Elizabeth Rae and Irma la Douce with Jo-Ann Pezzarro, both of which failed to erase the memory of Heather Lloyd-Jones the first time around. Earlier in the year, the Brooke had played host to Lulu Wena, another African song and dance spectacular by Bertha Egnos and Gail Lakier, but this didn't catch the public's imagination as Ipi-Tombi had done.

A year after the Soweto riots and the subsequent recession, I announced that the sale of theatre tickets had dropped from R10 million in 1975/76 to R6.5 million in 1976/77. The most dramatic fall occurred between 15 January and the end of June 1977.

The award of the computerisation contract in New York (which included booking for Washington's Kennedy Center) hadn't been finalised and Peter Campbell and I were asked to return to New York in August to meet again with the Interscience Corporation. Our bid was fraught with obstacles, not least of which was the disfavour in which South Africa was viewed. I realised that this would put paid to our bid when I met the chairman and the president of Shubert Theatres who were behind the drive to computerisation. Gerald Schoenfeld and Bernard Jacobs were formidable men, who allowed me no more than ten minutes to put my case for a South African organisation to infiltrate the American market, and their disapproval was clear. With hindsight, we were naive in thinking we had a chance of getting the contract, which had still not been awarded by the time I left New York.

During this trip I also made use of a phone number given to me by Jean Fenn and contacted a remarkable man named Edwin Lester. Then eighty-two years old, Edwin had enjoyed a long and distinguished career promoting musicals (he had been responsible for the original Kismet in 1938). We had an animated discussion about whether or not a formula existed to guarantee the success of a show. Edwin said, 'If I told you we were going to do a musical about a Russian village with a milkman who has five daughters to marry off, you would say this is not a very interesting subject. Maybe not. But that's Fiddler on the Roof!' I've never forgotten that little example.

I also had a welcome reunion, but one tinged with sadness, with my great friend Lean Gluckman. Lean had been seriously ill and undergone an operation for cancer. He was in New York, preparing to rehearse his first major Broadway musical, and I spent as much time as possible with him. Tentatively titled Rise Tafari, the show had been written by Wait a Minim!'s Kendrew Lascelles. Though not well, Lean was hopeful that he was in the clear and would be able to see the production through. (He wasn't, and the show was done several years later, retitled Reggae, and was a flop). When we parted, I had a sinking feeling that I would never see him again, and, alas, it was indeed our last meeting.

At least Lean could share in the satisfaction of knowing how our little idea for a booking service in 1954 had grown to the extent that I had been bidding for Broadway.

On my return I found an ongoing crisis at His Majesty's, where Graham English had resigned from Brickhill/Burke and was succeeded as the company's financial advisor by Christopher Seabrooke, a close friend of the Burkes. Louis addressed a gathering of 'Friends of His Majesty's', who included numerous theatre people, and announced that attendance had dropped more than fifty per cent over a two-year period. Losses on The Sound of Music and Night of January 16th (which had starred Heather-Lloyd-Jones and Joe Stewardson) totalled R100 000 and turnover in 1977 was expected to be less than half a million as against R1,1 million in 1976. The lease on the theatre had two and a half years to run, but it no longer seemed possible to continue. Louis told us that his request to the SABC to show a three-minute excerpt from The Sound of Music had been refused and attacked television for reneging on its promise to help foster interest in live theatre.

The artists present on this occasion decided to do what they could to save the situation, starting with a show on 29 August to be called A Night of 100 Stars for which they would give their services free for a two-week run. Plans were also made to stage fund-raising concerts and lunch-hour shows. After these performances, the theatre stood empty until, in November, Pieter Toerien transferred Roger Redfarn's production of Murder Among Friends to His Majesty's after its successful run at the Civic. The play starred Moira Lister and Nigel Davenport and went from His Majesty's to further success at the Comedy Theatre in London.

After Pieter's production, His Majesty's had a further respite from misfortune with the musical Grease. With a starry cast headed by Danny Keogh, Leonie Hofmeyer, Eckard Rabe, Bruce Millar and Sue Kiel, and its appeal to younger audiences, the show ran until June the following year. During the Christmas season, Joan and Louis ran a matinee season of Winnie the Pooh which helped to keep the cash registers ringing for a little longer.

While His Majesty's struggled along, the Academy enjoyed continued success, with Rex Garner always in evidence as actor or director or both. Productions in 1977 included Don't Just Lie There, Say Something in which Rex was joined by John Hayter, George Korelin and Melody O'Brian; Fringe Benefits in which he co-starred with Erica Rogers; and a musical version of Not Now, Darling called Once More, Darling which had its world premiere directed by Rex with Erica, David Morton, Derek Royle and Patricia Sanders.

At PACT's Arena Theatre, Athol Fugard directed a revival of Hello and Goodbye, and Annabel Linder starred in Edith Piaf, No Regrets, based on the unconventional life and loves of the famous French chanteuse. At the Alexander, PACT presented Simon Gray's Butley directed by François Swart with Michael McCabe, Leonard Schach's production of an Afrikaans version of The Diary of Anne Frank with Elise Hibbert, and the 19th century comedy London Assurance starring and directed by Michael Atkinson. The crowds were drawn to Ken Leach's production of a fantastical musical called Fangs, with Michael Richard, Paul Slabolepszy, Annelisa Weiland, Lesley Nott and Bill Flynn, and Professor Rosalie van der Gucht directed Coward's Blithe Spirit. Success, however, eluded Taubie Kushlick who came out of her 'retirement' to direct Keith Grenville and Michael McCabe in Anouilh's The Director of the Opera. This was so disastrously ill-received that PACT cut short the run. Taubie, however, was in San Diego at the time, attempting to woo audiences with Jacques Brel for producer Don Hughes who had settled in the USA. That venture, too, was a disappointment for Taubie.

Lawrence Folley and Joyce Barker headed PACT Opera's production of Don Giovanni while Gé Korsten and Mimi Coertse sang the lead roles in Faust. The August-September opera season, however, was replaced by an operetta, Franz Lehar's The Merry Widow. In this lavish production, designed by Anthony Farmer, directed by Neels Hansen and choreographed by Geoffrey Sutherland, the title role was alternated by Roberta Palmer and Barbara Veenemans, while Lawrence Folley played Count Danilo. Despite the flat and stilted quality of the dialogue, unimproved by substantial cuts, audiences poured in to witness the spectacular staging and enjoy Lehar's familiar and much-loved score.

Elsewhere on the musical scene, concertgoers enjoyed pianist Malcolm Binns and Jean-Philippe Collard as well as the Stuttgart Piano Trio, but the most unusual and interesting of the visiting soloists was Andrew Lloyd-Webber's cellist brother, Julian.

Ballet lovers enjoyed a choice of three alternating casts for PACT's Romeo and Juliet. Eva Evdokimova/Peter Breuer, Dawn Weller/Gary Burne, Maxine Denys/Edgardo Hartley. The Royal Ballet's Anthony Dowell danced Oberon in Frederick Ashton's The Dream, while Ashton's Monotones and Riveros' Latin American Symphony were also staged. The mid-year ballet season offered Vespri, Giselle, La Fille mal gardée and Swan Lake with guest artists Galina Samsova, Merle Park, Andre Prokovsky, Michael Coleman, David Ashmole, and Maina Gielgud (now head of the Australian National Ballet and Sir John's niece).

The Toerien/Firth season at the Intimate was somewhat lacklustre in 1977- William Douglas Home's The Kingfisher limped along for a mere seven weeks - but The Monkey Walk at the Barnato proved successful. It starred Barbara Kinghorn and British actor Richard Warwick, later replaced by another British visitor, Paul Jerrico, whom Barbara subsequently married in London (and divorced). Richard Warwick, joined by visitors Charles Hawtrey and Peter Bowles, with Naomi Buch and Ron Smerczak, also starred in Tom Stoppard's Dirty Linen, which Pieter Toerien presented at the Civic and throughout the country.

Rod McKuen, who never wore anything other than shabby Levis, sneakers and an old sweatshirt, returned in September for the Quibell Brothers. The first poet in history to make millions of dollars, Rod's many compositions include 'If You Go Away', the English version of Jacques Brel's 'Ne Me Quitte Pas', which he scribbled during a taxi ride to a recording session. Lovelace Watkins came again for Yango John, who also had a great success with pop idol John Paul Young at the Colosseum, but lost money on him in Cape Town.

In October 1977, the Baxter Theatre opened in Cape Town. A modern, well-equipped and very handsome building situated on the University of Cape Town campus in Rondebosch, it was the fruit of a bequest left by William Duncan Baxter who died in 1960. In accordance with Baxter's wishes, it was to be a theatre open to all, which is one of the reasons it took seventeen years to come into being. With its 657- seater theatre, 630-seater concert hall, studio theatre and 'user-friendly' foyers and restaurant, it caused Michael Venables to write, 'eat your heart out, Johannesburg'.

Run by a visionary Irishman, John Slemon, formerly of the Abbey Theatre, the Baxter quickly established itself as a lively and adventurous venue which came to take over the mantle of The Space in presenting controversial work and mixed-race casts, although it also maintained a more conventional and commercial strand of presentations. The theatre opened with a production of Leonard Bernstein's Candide, directed by one of Cape Town's theatrical doyennes Mavis Taylor, with Mark Baker imported from New York to play the title role opposite Roxanne Folley (Lawrence's daughter).

During this opening season, Pieter Toerien (for whom the Baxter would be a Cape Town home until the opening of his own theatre, The Bay) presented The Deep Blue Sea. He imported director Joan Kemp-Welch and stars Helen Cherry and James Faulkner from London for this production, planned also to open Pieter's new Johannesburg theatre, the Andre Huguenet, incorporated into a spare space in a building housing a German old-age home in Kapteijn Street, Hillbrow.

With the holiday season approaching, Hymie Udwin brought back the Bat Dor ballet in November and in December the blockbusting British group, '5000 Volts', defied the boycott to play at the Film Trust Arena together with our own 'Rabbitt'. The Film Trust Arena had had a huge success at Easter with Marjorie Chase's spectacular Cinderella on Ice; it now looked forward to another Christmas triumph with the return of Juliet Prowse and her big Las Vegas show- to follow Demis Roussos.

Christmas at the Brooke was celebrated with another African musical, Mzumba, playing to multi-racial audiences on Mondays, Thursdays and Fridays. The Market's holiday offering was Sgt Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club, an evening of Beatles nostalgia, while PACT's Christmas present to itself and the public was a fabulously successful revival of My Fair Lady with Evette Davis and Michael Atkinson.

On the computerisation front, the Canadian negotiations appeared very promising, with visits towards the year's end from Tom Burrows of the O'Keefe Centre and George McPherson from Hamilton Place, with whom we had fruitful discussions. However, on their return to Canada, they were asked to resign their positions because of having had dealings with South Africa. Michael Heilbronn continued his efforts and negotiations but, in the end, politics won, and the Canadian dream ended.

At home, we had decided that the time had come to leave Anglo-American's CSSL and acquire our own premises and machinery. Peter Campbell looked into the possibilities of alternative hardware and the decision was taken to transfer our operations onto what were termed mini-computers - every bit as powerful as the machines at CSSL but available at a much lower price. The decision meant that our vast number of programmes had to be converted, and with the utmost accuracy if disaster was to be avoided. So enormous a task had not been undertaken before, and it was entrusted to Tony Grimshaw and his partner, Bernard Church, of Compower. Meanwhile, CSSL, who considered us to be in breach of contract, brought a court case against us which we lost. Despite the ruling, we knew it was imperative to move to our own premises with our own equipment. It took Compower just eight months to rewrite the giant reservation system for switching on to different computers

One Saturday afternoon, Peter Campbell and I walked out of CSSL for the last time. Hoping for the best, we took our disks for operation on our new Perkin Elmer Interdata dual 8/32 processors (now called Concurrent Computers), situated in our new computer room in the Satbel building at 195 Marshall Street. Something of a revolution had been accomplished. The public knew nothing of this major step in our business which proved that miracles, if properly planned, do happen
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

ENTR'ACTE: THE TROUBLE WITH HARRY

Now that Computicket had taken its giant step in ceasing to be a bureau customer and was operating its own duplexed Interdata 8/32 machines, the industry's most powerful minicomputers, exportation of the system had become feasible and Harry Miller was determined to go ahead with establishing Computicket in Australia.

Miller was a real Australian success story, a man with oodles of charm and limitless ambition who had left his native New Zealand because it was too small a country to accommodate his aspirations. As a show business entrepreneur in Australia he had presented the cream of American entertainers from Sammy Davis Jr and Louis Armstrong to Judy Garland, while his successful productions of Hair and Jesus Christ Superstar consolidated his powerful position. He had also become a director of the country's national airline, Qantas, sat on the board of the Australian Meat and Livestock Corporation and, in 1977, was appointed head of the organisation in charge of arrangements for Australia's celebrations of the Queen's Silver Jubilee. These celebrations were to take place in 1978, conveniently coinciding with Miller's chosen timescale for setting up Computicket.

Following Harry's visit to us at the end of 1976 and Peter Campbell's visit to Australia in early 1977, Harry had despatched Donald McDonald to South Africa to view our operations. The future head of the Australian Opera and, later, the Australian Broadcasting Corporation, Donald was an accountant who had specialised in arts administration and was then head of Australia's Musica Viva (no connection with ours). He liked what he saw in Johannesburg and agreed to become managing director of Computicket Australia. His visit was followed by several others from potential clients of the system, sent out by Harry.

By the end of 1977 a business plan had been formulated between Harry Miller and Computicket South Africa. Since it was in the very nature of our system to trade in a total ticket inventory our integrated software and machinery could not be separated to cater for block allocations, and it was agreed that Computicket Australia would, essentially, duplicate Computicket South Africa. We decided that a core team (two Australians, and three South Africans who wanted to emigrate) would be trained in South Africa in all aspects of the machinery and the programme, while Aubrey Louw would spend six months in Australia overseeing the training of operators - the people who actually sell the tickets- and the general implementation of the system until its launch. Aubrey left early in 1978. He found that the Canadian outfit BASS was also trying to enter the Australian market, and Harry Miller had to marshal his considerable powers of persuasion to convince his potential clients that it was in their best interests not to ignore Computicket. This was proving no easy task, but Miller ploughed ahead relentlessly, trying to raise capital while setting up installations, gathering suitable staff for training, securing outlets- doing, in short, everything we did in South Africa during 1970 and 1971.

As mid-year approached, Harry Miller informed us that Computicket would be launched in Sydney on 28 August 1978. In September, he got his major break when the Australian Opera contracted into the system. Aubrey returned from his Australian sojourn with hair-raising stories about the way Computicket was conducting its business affairs. Harry Miller was deep into expansion plans, determined to beat down BASS, yet he appeared to have no visible budget. Worse, and in stark contrast to Peter Camp bell's meticulous balancing of our daily finances down to the last transaction - the only way a cash business can run satisfactorily - our Australian cousins were keeping no books. I found it difficult to conceive of what was actually going on there.

During the first few months of Harry's operations, we were informed that September's ticket sales numbered 32 000 despite the major problem of a post office strike which crippled the data lines. Sales rose steadily, reaching 117 000 in December. Since we were on a royalty per ticket, this was good news, and Andre Krause, who had been seconded from our Johannesburg office to manage operations in Aubrey' s stead, reported that everybody was working hard to implement Harry's ambitious plans, which included opening Computicket in Melbourne.

Early in 1979 we were concerned to learn that managing director Donald McDonald had resigned at the end of 1978. Harry assured us there was no more to this than that Donald had had a job offer he couldn't refuse, and that all was proceeding according to schedule. Then, on 10 February, I received a late-night phone call from a bullish and buoyant Harry. He enthused about how well Computicket was going in Melbourne, and casually asked whether I could let him have an immediate loan of 400 000 Australian dollars.

I was, to say the least, taken aback. I certainly didn't have access to such a sum and even if I had, exchange control laws would have meant that it would take many weeks to obtain permission from the Reserve Bank to send out the money. Despite many conversations we had had in the past about these regulations, I had difficulty getting Harry to understand the situation. He didn't, however, seem unduly despondent that I couldn't help, and the call ended with his cheery assurances that things in Australia 'couldn't be better'.

At 8.30 a.m. on 12 February, I received a phone call from somebody at the Australian Broadcasting Corporation (ABC) who asked me what effect I thought the liquidation of Computicket Australia would have on Computicket South Africa. Bemused, I asked him to repeat the question and was told that our conversation was live on-air throughout Australia. The ABC interviewer was equally bemused that I didn't know what he was talking about, and that was how I learnt that at 1.15 p.m. Australian time Harry Miller had announced the closure of Computicket and the appointment of a provisional liquidator. Computicket Australia had been in operation sixteen days short of five months.

The collapse of the company involved over three million Australian dollars. Among the many victims were the Australian Opera, the Rod Stewart Management and the World Series Cricket. The ABC interviewer quoted Rod Stewart's representative as having said that 'the people behind Computicket seemed to be the cream of the Australian business world and when you are dealing with these companies you don't dream you might be dealing with losers.'

It was true that the 'cream' of Australian business had been behind Computicket. Among those who had become shareholders were the prestige department stores David jones Ltd and the Myer Emporium, David Syme and Company, proprietors of the Melbourne newspaper The Age, and Efftee Broadcasters, owners of two radio stations.

I was absolutely stunned, and certainly in no position to comment during a radio broadcast without being in full possession of the facts. Peter Campbell, Aubrey and I immediately called Andre Krause in Sydney, to find him as stunned as we. He confirmed that the liquidation was headline news in all the newspapers, who were reporting gross mismanagement and, to quote the provisional liquidator, 'plundering on a grand scale'.

We decided that Peter Campbell should leave immediately for Australia to take possession of the system's computer disks and all documentation that belonged to us. We continued to be besieged by calls from ABC, various Australian newspapers and the London tabloids. The media were really relishing the scandal.

On 16 March 1979, Harry Miller was arrested in his luxurious Sydney office. Three days later he appeared in the Court of Petty Sessions where the preliminary deliberations into the charges were held. The Court was told of a very involved financial scheme that had begun with the initial formation of Computicket Australia, undertaken without adequate capital. The complicated charges he faced boiled down to the defrauding of his Computicket investors. The preliminary proceedings (at which Peter Campbell gave evidence) dragged on and on.

At a second trial which began in April 1982, Harry was found guilty on five charges of fraudulent misappropriation of funds and was sentenced to four years' imprisonment. He was released on 1 March 1983, having served ten months.

The Harry Miller trial attracted major publicity worldwide. He was a man with a finger in a multitude of substantial pies, who had played escort to Prince Charles in Australia and had dined at Buckingham Palace. The press coverage on both sides of the Atlantic gave Computicket a very bad name and caused huge difficulties for me. The overseas papers, most damagingly the trade paper Variety, failed to make any distinction between the Australian and South African operations until I demanded that they correct this misinformation. The press also confused the issue of fraud with the efficiency of the system, implying that the latter was at fault. We issued statements informing the public that Computicket's performance was never in question.

Harry Miller worked his way back into show business in a big way. When I was in Melbourne in 1995, the city was plastered with posters announcing his new production of Jesus Christ Superstar. In his autobiography (in which he details the court case and proclaims his innocence), he says, 'Computicket is still the best idea I ever embraced'.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

EVERYBODY WELCOME

Against the background of the Australian negotiations and Aubrey's departure for Sydney early in 1978, concerns at home remained much the same. The Space in Cape Town was threatened with closure for lack of funds, and Moyra Fine appealed for help. Among those who made statements of support circularised by Moyra were Janet Suzman, Albert Finney and Paul Scofield, while Li by Morris had offered her successful London show, Edith Piaf, Je vous aime which had opened at The Space on New Year's Eve.

The pioneer of non-racial theatres was safe again - for a while.

Also, in Cape Town, Ronnie Quibell stirred up controversy by saying in an interview that all but one (Max Bygraves) of the top international entertainments he had staged there in 1977 had lost money, and that the city was rapidly becoming a washout as far as live entertainment was concerned. Other show business figures leapt angrily to Cape Town's defence, whereupon Ronnie retorted that attendances had been well below expectations for Johnny Mathis, Rod McKuen, Demis Roussos and Juliet Prowse, and that he had cancelled Pat Boone's forthcoming visit to Cape Town. He suggested that his traditional audience, unlike the more affluent supporters of serious theatre, opera and ballet, no longer had the money to spend.

In Johannesburg, Pieter Toerien began his year with a witty and urbane American mini-musical called Starting Here, Starting Now at the Intimate. Directed by John Montgomery from New York, it was played with panache by Andre Hattingh, Denise Freeman and Richard Loring. The notices were excellent, but the houses a disappointment. At the Andre Huguenet Dear Daddy, an acerbic and entertaining comment on English social decay, starred its director, Nigel Patrick, with Shelagh Holliday and Richard Haines.

The clean-cut, smooth-voiced crooner Pat Boone, a major star since the late 1950s, opened at the Film Trust Arena in January, together with his Grammy award-winning daughter Debbie. Contrary to expectations, the father-daughter combo failed to ignite the box-office.

I had met Pat Boone when he came out for Michael Klisser in 1961, and we reminisced about this visit. Back then, Pat and his musicians had been invited to a fancy charity party at Ciro's, hosted by socialite Weenie Mauritzi. Though Pat was famous for being both happily married and religious, Michael Klisser took it upon himself to provide him and his entourage with female companions for the Ciro's outing. On meeting these heavily made-up ladies at Pat's hotel, it was immediately evident that they had been sent over by one of the local downtown 'Madams'. Ever well-mannered, the squeaky-clean Pat introduced himself to each of the girls in turn before enlisting my aid to rescue him from the situation. Excusing ourselves, we rushed to the nightclub, took the manager into our confidence and joined Weenie's table. When Michael and the girls arrived some ten minutes later, they were discreetly shepherded to a quiet table at the back of the room, saving everyone embarrassment but leaving Michael utterly uncomprehending.

Rather more successfully for the Film Trust Arena, but nonetheless the last international artist who would appear there, was the ever-popular Cliff Richard. As was always the case, we sold tickets as per the configuration that had been given to us, only to have several patrons arriving to find a tent pole where their seats should have been. It was little wonder that, after Marjorie Chase's Aladdin on Ice which followed Cliff and ran until May, the debt-riddled Film Trust Arena closed its flaps for the last time and went into liquidation.

In February 1978 the SAATM delegation working to eliminate apartheid in theatres, received notification from the government that fifty per cent of all performances of any production could now be open to all races, with the remaining fifty per cent limited to white audiences. We replied that only a blanket removal of restrictions was acceptable.

Leon Gluckman died on 7 March in London, aged fifty-five, having failed to recover from cancer despite surgery. I was devastated, though, having seen how ill he was in New York the previous year, not unprepared. The obituaries and memorial tributes were numerous, and fulsome in their acknowledgement of his outstanding qualities. Ian Bernhardt of Phoenix Players spoke for many when he said, 'We at Dorkay House mourn the passing of a towering talent who was also a very special kind of human being.' I was asked to talk on SABC radio about my close and valued friend, and I recalled the importance of his contribution to black-white relationships in the theatre and talked of his humanity and humility.

The day after Leon's death I requested all managements to ask their audiences for a minute's silence as a tribute to his achievements. This indeed happened and, at the Alexander, before the curtain rose on the opening of Hamlet, François Swart paid a moving tribute, reminding the audience of Leon's pioneering pleas for multi-racial audiences.

On 10 March, I accompanied Graham English and Michal Grobbelaar to Cape Town for a meeting with the Minister of Plural Affairs and Development, Dr Connie Mulder, who, later that day, was to present a bill in parliament proposing total desegregation of theatres. En route to Dr Mulder's offices I met Helen Suzman in the parliament buildings. Hearing what I was doing there, she not only echoed my astonishment at the verkrampte Mulder's involvement, but totally ridiculed the possibility that the Government would ever pass such a bill.

For once Helen was wrong. Back in Johannesburg that evening we received the news that the proposals had been accepted, albeit hedged around with a lot of niggling bureaucratic conditions regarding the suitability of theatre buildings. These were largely ignored in practice and fell away within a short time.

On 14 March, the SAATM called a historic meeting at the Johannesburg Civic Theatre to announce that our representations to the Government had been successful. We had received confirmation from the Minister of Community Development, Mr Marais Steyn, that henceforth all theatres operated by members of the SAATM would be open to audiences of all races at all times. A permit could be applied for by theatres that conformed to certain minimum standards; once granted, it need not be renewed. Managements (including The Company at The Market which had opened its doors to all races from day one and had never applied for a permit) were jubilant. We all considered it a happy augury that our years of effort had borne fruit in the twenty-first birthday year of the SAATM. We could at last look forward to making a tangible contribution to improving race relations at home and our image abroad, with the added benefit of economic upturn in the theatre.

It was a sad irony that Leon, who had defied the law in casting a black and a white actor together for the first time (in The Blood Knot) had not lived to see this day on which, together with the representatives of the press, radio and TV who were present, we once again stood in silence to honour his memory.

Michal Grobbelaar noted that the new dispensation marked the most significant service given by the SAATM to the performing arts in South Africa; Brian Brooke welcomed 'a historical and marvellous moment for us all'; Taubie Kushlick said she was glad she was alive and well and had lived long enough to see this happen; Des Lindberg, with premature optimism commented that 'we live in a different South Africa'. However, Jim Stodel, who saw the development as 'a prelude for greater things, making it easier to import overseas artists', was somewhat surprised to receive a letter on 5 May giving him 'permission' to allow blacks to attend performances of The Platters (brought out by Ronnie Quibell). Other managements reported similar communications for quite some time - clearly, the efficiency in filtering the ministerial directive down to the relevant local departments left much to be desired.

With gloom and doom thus much dispelled in theatrical circles, we welcomed Les Ballets Trockadero de Monte Carlo, presented by Basil Rubin at the Civic. This eighteen-strong troupe of highly trained male ballet dancers, affectionately known as 'The Trocks', bewitched audiences in Cape Town and Johannesburg with their skill and had them rolling in the aisles. at their outrageous impersonations of female dancers. They were not, however, a drag act.

Eve Borland, ballet critic of the Cape Times summed them up thus: 'They spoof and take the mickey out of so many of the ridiculous affectations that both classical ballet and modern dance are lumbered with. They have an obviously thorough knowledge of the history, technique, musicality et al of all they parody and satirise.

The crowds absolutely poured in, and 'The Trocks' returned for another successful tour in 1980. I have many delightful memories of those times, though I didn't relish helping Basil and Aileen Rubin to keep them entertained, which involved me, Graham, and anyone else we could commandeer, in becoming chauffeurs to the lively company.

We had a lot of fun, too, when Pieter Toerien staged P.S. Your Cat is Dead, directed by Dennis Breto with John Fraser and Anthony Daniels (C3PO in Star Wars). The play's author James Kirkwood, with whom I'd kept up a friendship since his previous visit in 1964, came out again, and Graham and I threw a party for him. We invited the people he'd worked with fourteen years earlier, as well as the cast of the present play and several other friends, among them Louis Burke and Anthony Farmer. I played the record of A Chorus Line, of which James was co-author, and I have a wonderful photograph of James, John Fraser, Louis, Pieter, the two Anthonys and myself dancing, as a 'chorus line', to the number 'One'. I wish I could say this started me on a new career ...

Over at the Intimate, meanwhile, Toerien/Firth were having a great success with Anthony Marriott and John Chapman's Shut Your Eyes and Think of England. Directed by Roger Redfarn, it had opened in April starring Peter Blythe (later replaced by Simon Merrick) and ran until January 1979. At the Andre Huguenet, Pieter and Shirley followed the Kirkwood play with Terence Rattigan's Cause Célèbre, directed by Joan Kemp-Welch with English imports Mary Miller and William Lucas. It ran for nine months.

PACT was scaling down the enormous number of productions they were wont to mount in a year, confining themselves to a mere fifteen in 1978. Among them were an eclectic quintet of Afrikaans translations: Die Wonderwerk (The Miracle Worker), directed by Leonard Schach who had had such a stunning success with the original, and Die Vader (Strindberg's The Father), Saterdag, Sondag, Maandag (Eduardo di Filippo 's Saturday, Sunday, Monday), Jóli-Jóli (by Letraz, retaining its original French title) and a revival of Die Dagboek van Anne Frank, all directed by PACT's head of drama, Louis van Niekerk. In March, Robert Mohr directed Michael Richard as Hamlet for PACT. The play was a school setwork, but the school audiences were doggedly unappreciative of the efforts made to bring their text to life. The run was characterised by appalling behaviour. Robert Greig, writing in The Star Tonight reported, 'Michael Richard after a performance was brilliant with rage. The cast shared his rage. If they could get their hands on the Transvaal school going population, it might make the ending of Hamlet look mild.' Michael had responded to peppermint-throwing by cutting speeches, causing Greig to remark that Mohr's fine production was in danger of turning into a Reader's Digest condensed version. François Swart, who had played the role many years before in similar circumstances, offered the somewhat contentious suggestion that 'It's time we learnt not to force culture on the Philistines.'

Different problems arose with the mid-year production, whose July opening at the Alexander was timed to coincide with the fiftieth anniversary of the Reps. The play was Golda, the subject Israeli Prime Minister Golda Meir, the playwright William Gibson and the director, Israel-based Leonard Schach. The play, which had begun life on Broadway starring Anne Bancroft, was originally a cumbersome and bewilderingly episodic piece that had been poorly received. Gibson rewrote it, and the first production of the new version was to open at Pretoria's Breytenbach Theatre in the presence of the Israeli ambassador and the entire Pretoria-based international diplomatic corps. The great Israeli actress Orna Porat was cast as Mrs Meir.

With all systems go, Orna Porat cancelled. I suggested to PACT's Michael Lovegrove and to Leonard that they try and get English actress Thelma Ruby, whom I had seen in the West End. Thelma accepted, and was joined here by her husband Peter Frye, a theatre director. With that problem solved, another surfaced when the Pretoria City Council refused to allow blacks into the Breytenbach, despite the fact that it was one of the SAATM's open venues. Much adverse publicity followed this decision, resulting in the diplomatic invitees unanimously refusing to attend the opening. In the midst of this, author William Gibson arrived at PACT's invitation. There was only one thing for it cancel Pretoria altogether and open at the Alexander.

From my personal point of view, the Golda period was rewarding. With Leonard as our house guest, Graham and I were frequent hosts to Bill Gibson, and forged a good friendship with Thelma and Peter. Bill was delighted with Leonard's production, cleverly staged in minimalist settings, and extended his visit to see Leonard's production of the Afrikaans version of his prizewinning play, The Miracle Worker, with Diane Britz as Helen Keller and Trix Pienaar as Annie Sullivan. Thelma, who gave a tremendous performance, was thrilled with the reception given her by Johannesburg, and subsequently toured Canada and the US with a one-woman version of the show called Mama Golda.

PACT's big hit at the Arena was Robert Kirby's one-man revue Quodlibet which its creator advertised as 'Tasteless, Odourless and Colourless'. With death as its main topic, Kirby defied all the conventions of comedy and audiences loved it. I was, however, somewhat astounded when Robert sent me advertising copy to place which read 'Bring your own poes wyn'. Nonetheless, I followed instructions, only to have the advertisement cause a furore, culminating in Robert being charged with public indecency. He pleaded a typing error on the part of his new secretary, claiming he had meant 'hoes' wyn and the charges were dropped. He did, however, have to write formal letters of apology to the newspapers and the SAATM.

Additionally, the show fell foul of the Publications Act and excisions were ordered. One of these read, 'Excise the word "arsehole" when used in reference to the Honorable BJ. Vorster.'!

At PACT Eghard van der Hoven pulled off something of a coup in obtaining the rights for Rosalinda, a new full-length ballet choreographed by the Royal Ballet's Ronald Hynd, designed by Peter Docherty and danced to John Lanchbery's arrangement of Johann Strauss' score for Die Fledermaus. Plans to stage the work in Australia had fallen through because of copyright problems, making the opening night at the Civic on 24 April its world premiere. New full-length ballets are a rarity and my old friend Beryl Grey, with eminent designer Oliver Smith came out for the opening, to which I escorted them.

The PACT Opera seasons were distinguished by the presence of Covent Garden's Elizabeth Vaughan (a not infrequent visitor who also came here for CAPAB) who sang in Madame Butterfly, and South African Marita Napier, riding the crest of a major international career. Miss Napier, whose impressive repertoire included the Wagnerian canon, sang opposite Lawrence Folley in Gregorio Fiasconaro's production of Verdi's Nabucco. In due course, the soprano abandoned the international platform to settle in Cape Town where, she took up teaching opera-singers and making the occasional stage appearance.

Instrumental music in 1978 included a series of concerts given by the Johannesburg Symphony Orchestra to celebrate the Diamond Jubilee of the Young Artists Concerto Festival. These concerts were designed to give musicians under the age of twenty-one an opportunity to perform with a full-scale orchestra, in many instances for the first time. Over the years, many of these young soloists went on to professional careers, both national and international, among them pianists Philip Levy, Neil Immelman and Neville Dove, violinists Vincent Fritelli and Alan Solomon, cellist Marion Lewin, oboist Gerrit Bon, clarinettist Jimmy Reinders and bassoonist Jos de Groen.

Joan Brickhill and Louis Burke experienced a change in fortune at His Majesty's. In June, they opened the Broadway hit, I Love My Wife, which had a cast of four, plus the unusual feature of four on-stage musicians. The actors were Tobie Cronje, Michael McGovern, Erica Rogers and Jessica Jones. Tobie Cronje, who went on to win the Gallo award for most outstanding performance in a musical, was making his first appearance in an English-language production. The musicians were a popular group called 'The Bats' -Paul Ditchfield, Eddie Eckstein, Barry Jarman and Pete Clifford. Eddie was the drummer and also something of a comedian with a loveable personality. Joan capitalised on these attributes and taught Eddie to dance, which paid large dividends for the show.

I Love My Wife ran until October, proving one of the most successful musicals at His Majesty's, and went on to a nationwide tour. The show's author, Michael Stewart, came out to see it, and, during a delightful evening party in Joan's prizewinning garden, asked the Burkes to stage the show in Australia, which they later did.

On my return from New York the previous year, I had told Joan and Louis about a new Broadway musical Annie, based on the comic-strip heroine. I said that with its golden-voiced orphan girl in the lead, many more orphan girls in a home run by an alcoholic dreg of a woman, and a shaggy dog, it was a director's nightmare. It was certainly also the perfect Christmas show, offering song and dance, schmaltz and spectacle, and much humour, and was wildly expensive to mount.

As I talked, I could see from the changing expressions on Joan' s face that each technical difficulty I mentioned intrigued her more than the last. By the time I'd finished my account, she was absolutely determined to stage the show here. Annie opened in November 1978 and ran until the end of March 1979. Three young girls - Ashleigh Sendin, Diane Dupont and Memory Fick- rotated the title role. One of the supporting orphans was played by Claire Johnston who grew up to become lead singer with one of South Africa's most internationally successful groups, Mango Groove. Joan herself gave an outstanding performance as Miss Hannigan, the drunken has-been, for which she won the Gallo award, while Joe Stewardson and Judy Page filled the other adult lead roles.

With the box-office tills ringing for I Love My Wife and Annie, Joan and Louis, who had been teetering on the brink of financial disaster, crawled back to a level of stability, helped by the controls exercised by financial wizard Christopher Seabrooke. For the moment at least, it looked as though a miracle had happened.

At the Alhambra, the permanent home they had worked so hard to own, JODS were not faring well. In March they had staged New Faces of 1978, directed by Anthony Farmer with choreography by Wendy de la Harpe. Unfortunately, the faces failed to launch a single ship, or to attract big audiences. They then decided to celebrate the new multiracialism with a production of George and Ira Gershwin's all-black folk opera, Porgy and Bess, a piece that is notoriously difficult to stage successfully. It was directed by Taubie Kushlick, and the title roles were played by Ben 'Satch' Masinga and Betty Mthombeni, both experienced as well as talented.

The show opened on 23 November to largely unfavourable reviews, the most scathing of which came from Ian Gray in The Star. He called it amateur and ended his piece saying, 'The show lacks polish, it's dull where it should be sharp, and overall it's very disappointing.' Taubie, who genuinely believed her production had much merit, was horrified, and was vociferous in her denunciation of the critics. In my opinion, the singing was below standard, while the use of a three-piece band supplemented by backing tapes was a travesty.

Taubie took a trip overseas, during which JODS threw in the towel in the face of sparse houses and announced a closing date. On her return, Taubie was amazed and upset at this turn of events and arranged to take over the show at an agreed figure. She then persuaded the cast to take a pay cut to enable the run to continue and made an announcement from the stage that she was in the forty-eighth year of her career and had never before experienced such electrifying enthusiasm from an audience as for this show! She was, of course, deluding herself. The public continued to stay away, and Porgy and Bess closed towards the end of January 1979, the sad finale to sixty years of JODS productions.

The Market Theatre enjoyed a busy schedule of production in both its auditoria, and saw the opening of a third, The Laager. Among the highlights in the main theatre were Barney Simon's production of Albee's The Death of Bessie Smith which played late-night with guest artist Janet Suzman leading a cast that included John Kani and Winston Ntshona; a revival of Long-Day's Journey into Night with Joe Stewardson, Shelagh Holliday, Danny Keogh and Ron Smerczak; and Alan Ayckbourn's exquisitely manipulated four-handed comedy Relatively Speaking, directed by John Hussey with himself, Helen Jessop, Andre Hattingh and John Rogers. Surprisingly, this gem lost money, but Sizwe Banzi is Dead was seen for the first time at the Market and drew capacity crowds. It was played by its original cast, John and Winston.

Also, a success- so much so that it transferred to the Intimate for six weeks after its October run -was Woody Alien's Play it Again, Sam. However, despite its popularity, the profits on Barney's production were small. In November, Athol Fugard' s A Lesson from Aloes had its world premiere at the Market, directed by the author who played in it with Shelagh Holliday and Marius Weyers. In due course the play was staged to critical acclaim in London and New York, faring rather better than Athol's previous play, Dimetos, barely seen and much disliked here, and a failure in London despite the presence of Paul Scofield in the lead.

Upstairs at the Market audiences saw an Afrikaans translation of Equus directed by Mario Schiess, Paradise is Closing Down directed by its author Pieter-Dirk Uys, Adam Small's first play in English, The Orange Earth, directed by Jo Dunstan and, outstandingly successful to the point of enjoying a re-run, Tom Stoppard's Travesties. This was directed by Malcolm Purkey with a cast that included Vanessa Cooke, Nicholas Ellenbogen and William Kentridge.

But the major event at the Market Theatre was the opening of their new space, the Laager, under the artistic directorship of Pieter-Dirk Uys. This 'nice little womb', as Pieter called it, was a tiny, monumentally uncomfortable but flexible space which would, over the years, host a varied, exciting and challenging programme of works.

It got off to a spectacular start with Die Van Aardes van Grootoor, a side-splitting 'take' on radio soap opera parodying all its elements and played to the hilt, under Dawie Malan's direction, by a cast that included its author with Magda Beukes, Johan Botha, Lida Botha, Antoinette Kellerman, Nomsa Nene and Rina Nienaber.

The family saga- a bilingual 'epic boere drama in 780 episodes' - collected ecstatic, don't-miss-it reviews and drew huge audiences night after night, who crammed uncomplainingly into every available corner of the tiny space, defying fire regulations to sit wherever they could, including on the floor. It went on to record the longest ever run for an Afrikaans play in Johannesburg, despite an interruption when, on 19 October, a month after it opened, it was banned under the Publications Control Act on the grounds that it was. obscene, blasphemous and the cause of racial disharmony. On 24 October, it was reinstated with a handful of cuts and a 2-18 age restriction. During the hearing before the Publications Appeal Board, acting chairman Professor Kobus van Rooyen said, 'It is good for the Afrikaner to laugh at himself, but the ridiculing must not be overdone'.

In a very different environment for a different audience at the Academy, Rex Garner and his cohorts continued to provide laughter with such offerings as There Goes the Bride and The Loudest Tears in Town, while the Brooke Theatre was slowly but steadily losing its lustre. Actor Michael Howard formed a company to present the creaky old comedy The Cat and the Canary, and in August the Brooke company staged The Ageing Adolescent written by Brian and starring Clive Parnell It was, alas, a catastrophe that ran only ten days and, as it turned out, was Brian's last production. His lovely theatre then went dark until late November, when it saw yet another revival of Ipi-Tombi. That, too, had lost its shine, remaining proficient but devoid of charm and spontaneity.

One of the more curious events of the year arose out of the final episode of the popular TV series Rich Man, Poor Man, in which the characters of Falconetti and Rudy Jordache were killed off. Unbelievably, Computicket's advertising desk was inundated with orders to insert notices in The Star's death column mourning the passing of these fictional characters, and someone decided to cash in on bringing Falconetti, otherwise actor William Smith, to do some promotional work in South Africa.

During his visit, Smith let it be known that he wouldn't be averse to offers of work, a suggestion taken up by, of all unlikely people, Tony Factor the discount king. Factor backed a production of Robert Sherwood's The Petrified Forest, an antediluvian play that had been filmed with Humphrey Bogart and Leslie Howard back in 1936. It had opened at the Colosseum in April- the first and last straight play ever to be presented there - starring William 'Falconetti' Smith and was a colossal disaster. Even the discount king's offer of reduced-price tickets couldn't drag the public in, and I urged Tony to cut his losses and close the show.

Back at Computicket, Alan Graham and Neil Munro of the Midland News Association, who hoped to buy out the Keith Prowse agency in England and computerise it, came out from England to investigate our system. With Aubrey overseeing Harry Miller's operations in Australia, our senior staff resources were limited, and Peter Camp bell and I were stretched to accommodate the visits, not only of these gentlemen, but of some Canadians who were trying to resuscitate negotiations, and representatives of BASS, whose offer to buy our system was refused. I had already discussed the system with colleagues of Alan and Neil during a flying visit to England, and I now promised to return there in October with Tony Grimshaw to demonstrate Computicket to the British managements. Hearing of this, the Arts Council of Great Britain invited me to be their guest speaker at a conference in Leicester being held to discuss new methods of ticket-selling

It was a hectic couple of weeks. A complicated audio-visual presentation was put together in record time, and programmes were written for the London theatres so that managements could more easily identify with what we were doing. The Leicester conference went well and brought invitations to repeat the demonstration elsewhere in England and in Holland

The next stop was London where, from nine to five every day for a fortnight, I demonstrated the system to all the leading managements and answered their questions. I was most disappointed in the level of these questions which were of the order of how Lord So-and-So would be assured of his regular first-night seats if it was left to a machine. I felt the managements displayed a singular lack of grasp and regretted that they hadn't been accompanied by the box-office personnel.

Nonetheless, I enjoyed meeting the well-known producers whose names were long familiar to me from theatre programmes. One of the less well-known was a youthful producer named Cameron Mackintosh, who was due to come to South Africa to see a Christmas production of Oliver! at the Civic because he was thinking of buying the sets for a forthcoming Australian production in which he was involved. He did, indeed, come to see the show - a success, with Gordon Mulholland as Fagin - and lunched at our flat with Pieter Toerien. Within two years, Cameron Mackintosh would produce Cats, the prelude to his becoming arguably the world's most successful producer of musicals.

In London, Capitol Radio expressed serious interest in becoming involved with Midland News in buying the system, and I held a frank and fruitful meeting with the chairman, Sir Richard Attenborough. (His further dealings with South Africans over the making of Cry Freedom would prove less pleasant). By the end of the trip, contracts were drawn up between ourselves and Midland News, who paid a respectable sum of money to option the system.

Back home, Ami Artzi was presenting A Night at the Ballet at the Civic. This company of American dancers was led by ballerina Leslie Browne, known to audiences here for her co-starring role in the film The Turning Point in which she had danced opposite Baryshnikov.

American director Stockton Briggle arrived to direct a season of three plays for Pieter Toerien. Briggle was an interesting man with whom Graham and I shared many a meal and learnt that he was an expert on Mexican history, as well as a cordon bleu cook and a fencing champion.

His season consisted of Ira Levin's Deathtrap with English imports Peter Wyngarde and Raymond O'Neill, which enjoyed a popular five month run at the Andre Huguenet; The Passion of Dracula, a dismal failure; and Neil Simon's California Suite, starring Naomi Buch, Annabel Linder, Anthony Fridjohn and Michael Mayer, who played, in the words of critic Roy Christie 'with dash and wit', making for an entertaining hit.

On 12 November crowds filled the airport to welcome the great soul star Isaac Hayes, variously known as the Living Legend and Black Moses. He was truly awesome, both onstage and in the life, and his Colosseum concerts provided the most exciting example of his particular art that the country had ever heard and seen. His backing musicians equalled his standard of excellence and the reviews were ecstatic. Booking was phenomenal, the season was extended, and Ronnie Quibell arranged extra Sunday shows at the Orlando Stadium in Soweto and the Mamelodi Stadium in Pretoria. I suggested to Ronnie that, in order to avoid unmanageable queues at these venues, we encourage advance booking by slapping an extra fifty cents charge onto the R 2.50 price for tickets bought at the stadiums. The ploy worked.

At the DALRO Awards ceremony, Wilna Snyman won the Computicket award for Anastasia. The best actress for a performance in English was Helen Jessop in Relatively Speaking, Joe Stewardson was best actor for Long Day's Journey into Night, best Afrikaans actor Don Lamprecht for Die Keiser and best director Malcolm Purkey for Travesties.

November came to a sad end with the death of Mercedes Molina at the age of forty-four. This 'exploding ball of fire' as one critic called her, had, in recent years, toured extensively to Spain, Greece and the USA with her partner Enrique Segovia. To the end she drove herself and her dancers to the limits of their capabilities and very few people knew how ill she was. Ten days after her return from her last tour, to Greece and Israel, she died of cancer. Mercedes had brought joy to thousands of aficionados and her achievements in establishing Spanish dance in South Africa left a lasting legacy. In June the following year, a fund-raising evening was held at the Civic Theatre to launch the Mercedes Molina Memorial Bursary Fund.

The year that had seen the desegregation of theatres ended with a request to Computicket made by the Boxing Board in December to supply the figures of actual black attendance at boxing matches between 1974 and 1978. They required this information because they intended to make representations to the government to desegregate these events. Ironically, it was easy enough to oblige, since the plans indicated the division of seating for black and white patrons.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

SOME DO, SOME DON'T....

In February 1979 the press asked me to comment on the price of tickets for live entertainment in South Africa. I was able to reply that they were probably the lowest in the world. After the Soweto uprising attendances had dropped, which contributed to managements keeping prices realistic, ranging, on average, between R2 and R5. (One expected to pay three to four times more in London or New York). Attendances rose steadily with the desegregation of theatres and, by the end of 1979, takings increased by R1.5 million.

Also, in February, undeterred by the raging Harry Miller scandal, John Whitney of London's Capitol Radio arrived to familiarise himself with the Computicket operation. By 16 August, coinciding with Show Service's twenty-fifth birthday celebrations (and Computicket's eighth), we learnt that the original consortium involving Midland News and Capitol Radio would not be going ahead with Computicket, and Midland were in new negotiations for a partnership with the ubiquitous BASS. Peter Campbell and I were invited by BASS to run the proposed London operation, a job offer we declined. The London operation never happened, but we retained the option money as agreed.

The Market Theatre's year began with Mannie Manim's production of Sly Fox for The Company. I had been dismayed at this choice because I had seen Larry Gelbart's play- based on Ben Jonson's Volpone\- on Broadway and hated it. It opened on 4 January, directed by Pieter-Dirk Uys with Patrick Mynhardt, Graham Armitage and Peter J. Elliott in the leads and, as I had feared, was a failure. It was followed by Veronica's Room, a thriller by Ira Levin, which incurred an even bigger financial loss. Mannie asked my opinion as to why this was happening in the wake of the best four months in the Market's short history. I suggested The Company was trying to 'out-Toerien Toerien' and would never succeed in that. The Market worked best for those productions that were relevant to the times and appealed to audiences of all races.

Despite successful fund-raising, The Company was finding it difficult to make ends meet. At the end of February, however, the City Council, recognising that the Market had become 'a vibrant centre of theatrical enterprise', eased matters by waiving the monthly rent of R 882 and charging a nominal R 5.

Janice Honeyman devised a pop musical called Holy Moses and all that Jazz. Comprising a hodgepodge of biblical stories ranging from Adam and Eve through 'Captain' Noah to 'Swinging' Samson and beyond, it bubbled with life and good humour, marred only by over-amplified sound. In June, Barney Simon directed Vivian Solomons and Wilma Stockenstrӧm in the first Johannesburg production of Fugard's Statements After an Arrest Under the Immorality Act. It was a revelation to audiences, as it had been when it opened The Space, and would be in London and in New York.

In July, responding to the insatiable demand for tickets, Die Van Aardes moved from The Laager into the main theatre. Meanwhile, Barney and a company comprising Vanessa Cooke, Marcel van Heerden, Danny Keogh, Lesley Nott, Barrie Shah, Thoko Ntshinga, Bo Petersen, Sam Williams and Robin Smith, were busy creating a show that would prove a hit.

In workshop sessions, they chose as their theme the closure of a jazzy American-style, multi-racial nightclub. Such clubs had burgeoned for a time in Johannesburg during the 1970s before disappearing, largely as a result of police action. The phenomenon of multi-racial clubs in the climate of those times fascinated Simon and his talented company and gave birth to Cincinatti named, despite the misspelling of it, after the American city.

Finally called Cincinatti - Scenes from City Life, the action moved well beyond the confines of the club, exploring life in the metropolis through the eyes of an Indian girl from Natal, a go-go dancer, a black good-time girl, a club-crazy adolescent, a bisexual bookkeeper and his grass-smoking wife, an unemployed guitarist, a night watchman and a young Afrikaner from the Platteland. The finished product was a raw, vibrant and exhilarating show that packed the Upstairs for eighteen weeks before playing a sold-out season at the Baxter in Cape Town and returning to The Market- this time in the main theatre.

That wasn't the end of Cincinatti. When the re-run had to move out of the main house to make way for the next production, it returned to the Upstairs briefly, then transferred to the Brooke Theatre on 9 October. The show was the kind of success The Company had prayed for, despite the imposition of a 2-18 age restriction on audiences.

The Company celebrated its third birthday at the Market on 18 September with another scintillating and intricate Alan Ayckbourn comedy, How the Other Half Loves. Helen Jessop, Kenneth Baker. Richard Haines and Yvonne Banning starred for director Graham Armitage who, as one critic had it, 'did a loving job of blending his cast into one sparkling entity'. While this play was enjoying a successful run, Pieter Dirk Uys in The Laager followed Die Van Aardes with a new work, Info Scandals, again directed by Dawie Malan. In this Pieter lampooned the crisis that was then raging around Connie Mulder and the Information Department, the controversial launching of the newspaper The Citizen and other related issues and personalities. Pieter-Dirk, a fearless and often penetrating satirist, has always maintained- tongue only half-in-cheek- that the government wrote his scripts for him, presenting him with readymade lunacies.

Upstairs at the Market, Donald Howarth directed his own play Ibchek, drawing on characters from works by Ibsen and Chekhov played by, among others, Annabel Linder, Jacqui Singer, Frantz Dobrowsky, Danny Keogh, and Elaine Proctor (who would go on to make feature films). And late-night at The Laager, Marius Weyers gave a truly remarkable performance as the ape with the power of speech who enters the world of men in Report to the Academy. Translated from the German by Mario Schiess, who directed it, this monologue by Franz Kafka was spellbinding, and went on to find favour at several international festivals.

Among the many late-night shows, I saw at The Laager was a short American play by Harvey Fierstein called International Stud. This later became the first of three plays which brought its author international recognition as Torch Song Trilogy, the South African production of which would be done by The Company in 1984.

The Market's Christmas production, Black Nativity, featured nineteen black artists directed by Pieter Scholtz. Though bouncily told in song and dance, the show failed to appeal to Christmas-time audiences.

In early February 1979, Ronnie Quibell asked me to open booking for an American family group of pop vocal and instrumental musicians who, he assured me, were wildly talented. They would play at the Colosseum, prices R 5,50 to R 3,50, increasing to a top of R 8,50 for the extended season which Ronnie seemed confident their success would invite. They were called The Jackson Five, whose youngest member, Michael, was the lead singer. With all arrangements in place, they cancelled their engagement. Fifteen years later, Computicket opened booking for Michael Jackson on behalf of impresario Anant Singh. This former member of The Jackson Five could now command R150 a ticket for his appearances at Ellis Park Rugby Stadium, and we had taken over R 12 million by the time he once again failed to turn up.

The Quibells had better luck with Spike Milligan, back after three-and- a-half years to play three sold-out weeks at the Colosseum. Clad in an ecology T-shirt, his hair flying wildly all over the place, he delivered his opening line: 'You all think I'm mad, don't you! 'Then, after a suitable pause, 'Well, you paid to come in.' Spike was, indeed, as mad as a hatter, and audiences loved him for his amiable, Goon-ish lunacy. This time he used a prop which he called a 'frustration dummy'. Made in the likeness of Connie Mulder, he used it as a punching bag whenever he felt the audience's laughter was insufficient.

I persuaded Spike to be the guest of honour at the annual Film Society awards that year. He made an unconventional and hilarious speech, which set the tone for a wonderful evening at which the best film award was shared between the French Madame Rosa starring Simone Signoret, and Woody Alien's Annie Hall.

For those in search of laughter, the Academy provided a full quota throughout the year. Early in the year, Academy Productions took the Civic to present Eric Sykes and Hattie Jacques in A Hatful of Sykes. A much-loved comedy partnership in Britain, they were physically reminiscent of Jack Spratt and his wife. Eric, morose and brilliant, was a remarkable man, at the top of his profession although stone deaf.

Rex Garner, Melody 0 'Brian and George Korelin supplied loads of laughs in a sexy romp, directed by Rex, called What More Could She Want, which played at the Alexander then transferred to the Academy. In April, the Academy brought back Birds of Paradise for another record-breaking run at the same time that its author, Michael Pertwee, directed his play Sextet for Toerien/Firth at the Andre Huguenet. This starred Jeremy Hawk and Peter Blythe, another English visitor whose performance left audiences helpless with laughter.

Departing from broad farce, Academy Productions presented two new plays, one English, one American, at the Alexander. Both deserved better audiences than they got. Ernest Thompson's On Golden Pond (later an Oscar-winning film with Katharine Hepburn and Henry Fonda) starred Clifford Mollison as the irascible retired academic and Margo Johns as his long-suffering wife, with Clare Marshall and Robin Dolton in support. It was beautifully directed by Rex Garner.

American Stockton Briggle returned to direct Englishman Michael Frayn's Clouds, starring Nicholas Ellenbogen and Andre Hattingh. It was critically acclaimed as 'the most beautiful production seen for a long time' and 'eminently worthwhile, challenging theatre', but the public took a different view.

The year saw the American group The Temptations, who came with their own musicians (augmented by Murray Campbell's orchestra) for a three-week season at the Colosseum. They were brought by the Quibells, who also did well with imports George McCrae and Stella Starr, the ever-popular Chris de Burgh, Max Bygraves (celebrating his thirtieth year in show business with his seventh visit to South Africa) and two great soul singers, Millie Jackson and Wilson Pickett.

Millie Jackson's concerts had a 2-18 age ban imposed, this time with some foundation. Her stage repartee, unusually for the time, included a generous sprinkling of four-letter words and her songs (banned from radio in the USA), with titles such as 'Kiss You All Over' and 'Feelin' Bitchy', were sensual, seductive and frankly unsubtle. After Peter Feldman's less than enthusiastic review had appeared, Millie took to haranguing him nightly from the stage. She was outrageous, and audiences loved her for it. They poured in to give the Quibells a hit.

Wilson Pickett was another major drawcard, but rather a demanding artist whose fondness for vodka could get a little out of hand. One night he sank into depression in his dressing-room and refused to go on. Sympathetic questioning by the Colosseum's manager, Brian Thomas, eventually elicited the information that Wilson was very unhappy with the new Datsun provided for him as he really wanted a white Mercedes Benz. Brian promised to rectify the situation, Wilson gave his performance, and the next morning, courtesy of Cargo Motors, a gleaming white Mercedes was presented to the star. Such is fame ...

In May, five years after its first production, PACT brought Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat back yet again, still with its original stars but playing for the first time at the Civic. Also, for the first time ever, municipal buses were used to advertise a show, and on opening night the press were given a complimentary bus ride to the theatre. On the day of the opening, François Swart telephoned me to check on the progress of advance booking. I keyed in to my terminal and discovered that we had already sold 17 500 tickets (prices R4,50 down to R2,50), an all-time record for advance sales for a musical.

Otherwise it was not a good year for PACT. The organisation was coming in for criticism over the number of classic plays that were being presented in Afrikaans, and drama head Michael Lovegrove's explanation- that he didn't think English-speaking audiences were attuned to the classics at this time- didn't go down too well.

The Afrikaans list was impressive. They had kicked off with Die Kersietuin (Chekhov's The. Cherry Orchard) in a production by Robert Mohr with Wilna Snyman, David van der Merwe, Rika Sennett and Carel Trichardt. The success of this led them to 'n Maand op die Platteland (Turgenev's A Month in the Country) directed by Leonard Schach, a translation of Becket starring Marius Weyers and Die Swanesang van Majoor Sommer by Chris Barnard (no relation to the heart surgeon). None was as successful as the first; indeed, the last, directed by Louis van Niekerk, was a disaster that closed after ten days. English productions of Shaw's Misalliance, Lili Lamont, and a revival of Dear Liar all lost money.

Even PACT Opera's revival of The Merry Widow in April had lost its sparkle with Mimi Coertse and her imported leading man, Emile Belcourt, giving lacklustre performances, though the more serious season made some impression with Simon Boccanegra, Jenufa, and a revival of Neels Hansen's production of Lucia di Lammermoor.

Ballet fared better, with revivals of Cinderella and Rosalinda, and the premiere of another full-length Ronald Hynd ballet, Papillon, with the Royal Ballet's Stephen Jeffries as guest artist for same performances.

Drama was not entirely devoid of success. François Swart's production of Terence Rattigan's Ross, in which Michael McCabe gave an outstanding performance as Lawrence of Arabia, the role I had seen Alec Guinness create in London, was very well received, as was Die Drie van der Walts, a comedy by Schlengemann with Don Lamprecht, Wilna Snyman and Errol Ross, also directed by François. In July, simultaneously with CAPAB who mounted their own production, the company staged Windmills of the Mind, a local play by Johannesburg PR executive and freelance radio interviewer John Pank. In 1978 the play had been the joint winner (with James Ambrose Brown's Time and the Wood) of the first Amstel playwriting award, but it was essentially a poor piece despite a modicum of good writing. Actors Kerry Jordan, Michael McCabe, John Hussey and Bobby Heaney gave their all for director François Swart, but nobody came. The PACT graph dropped again in September with their revival of Coward's Present Laughter, directed by John Hussey who also miscast himself as the debonair matinee idol, Gary Essendine, opposite Shelagh Holliday and Erica Rogers.

At the Arena, PACT was more successful with a revival of El Grande de Coca-Cola. Michael Richard directed Elizabeth Rae, Wilson Dunster, Gillian Harris, Etienne Puren and Alan Goldstein, and played Pepe, the grandiloquent compere. The hilarity hadn't suffered with time. Des and Dawn presented two shows at the Arena, Jeremy Taylor's Back in Town, and The Importance of Being Irish, directed by Nicholas Amer with Thorn Delaney. Jeremy, who had been refused re-entry to the country in 1970 - no reasons given \- made a triumphant return with his own brand of humour, poetry, song and satire. The memorable evening of keenly observed cameos had the whole town begging 'Ag pleez, daddy won't you take us to the Arena', and after a sold-out season, Back in Town transferred to the Alhambra.

In June 1979 I was in Monte Carlo to see South African heavyweight Gerrie Coetzee fight world champion Leon Spinks. The venue was, of all places, a parking lot in Monaco, and only a few hundred fans saw the erratic Coetzee dispose of Spinks with a knockout blow in less than two-and- a-half minutes. Three months later, we opened booking for a world championship bout between Gerrie Coetzee and black American John Tate. The match, promoted by Square Ring Enterprises and sponsored by Southern Sun Hotels, set a record in selling over 80 000 tickets totalling a take of R3 million. The really surprising thing was that the contest, in which a white South African would fight a black man, was to take place at the Loftus Versfeld Stadium in Pretoria, the city which still didn't allow actors of different races to appear in the same play.

On 20 October I arrived at Loftus Versfeld accompanied, as I always was, with the printouts that recorded every detail of every ticket sold. 'Percy and his print-outs' became a standing joke with a lot of people, but experience had taught me that if anyone had mislaid their ticket, my records could put the matter to rights there and then. I also carried a pager so that managements could contact me at all times. That night it was obvious that nobody would ever find me or my print-outs in the throng and I spent the time before the match with the organisers 'backstage'. When the main bout was called, a noticeably subdued Gerrie Coetzee emerged from his dressing-room. During the fight, despite the hysterical urgings of the crowd, he never looked like winning, and lost his title on points.

Pieter announced a subscription scheme for the Andre Huguenet. By offering substantial discounts for more than one play booked for the season between June and December, he hoped to encourage those audiences who had deserted him for TV to return to the live theatre. 'I fear', he said, 'that we have lost the theatregoer and in his place, has arrived the entertainment seeker.'

Pieter was understandably outraged when PACT's François Swart claimed that 'hack actors' were being brought out from Britain to take starring roles for Toerien. Pieter retaliated, 'I challenge Mr Swart to give me a list of the hack actors he so contemptuously dismisses ... A man in his position should not make such sweeping statements. I have been going to Britain for fifteen years looking for good talent for my South African productions ... My approach is always to cast from the very top down.'

Ironically, while this spat was being conducted, Toerien/Firth's production of Royce Ryton's The Unvarnished Truth was enjoying a successful run at the Intimate with a fully homegrown cast - Michael Richard, Anthony Fridjohn, Nicholas Ellenbogen and Lynne White- though the director was Londoner Joan Kemp-Welch.

The first subscription season would open with the world premiere of Burton Graham's Nightfall, starring British imports Richard Todd and Jack Hedley. This would be followed by Tom Stoppard's Night and Day with Sandra Prinsloo and Tony Anhalt, Irish playwright Hugh Leonard's Tony award-winning Da with imported Irish actor Godfrey Quigley co-starring with Michael McGovern, and (for 'entertainment seekers') the comedy Pyjama Tops with Tobie Cronje to star.

To Pieter's disappointment, Nightfall was a failure with critics and audiences alike, but Stoppard's superbly witty Night and Day delighted everybody. The deeply Irish, humorous and poignant Da in which a son relives memories of his father, was directed by Leonard Schach and chalked up another success, being sufficiently popular to transfer to the Intimate when its initial run ended. Tobie Cronje had become a draw in his own right, and Pyjama Tops was the hit of the year. Clearly, the first subscription season, which had offered a four-play booking at R12,50 as against R20, reaped its hoped-for rewards.

In August the B'nai Brith Jewish organisation staged a tribute to Taubie Kushlick to celebrate her fiftieth year in the theatre. Taubie became the recipient of the B'nai Brith's first Cultural Award, and a galaxy of local stars entertained the audience at the Carlton Hotel with a trip down memory lane that included numbers from the several musicals with which Mrs Kushlick had been associated. Among the dozens taking part were opera star Mimi Coertse, actor Siegfried Mynhardt, entertainers Annabel Linder, Judy Page, Diane Todd and Richard Loring, and radio personalities Adrian Steed and Pat Rogers.

The indomitable Taubie announced that Thomas Cook had commissioned her to re-stage Jacques Brel for a week of private performances in November as a Christmas present to their clients. It played in its original venue, the Chelsea Theatre, refurbished as a French bistro. Old Brel hands Ferdy Uphof, Ann Hamblin and Robin Dolton returned, with newcomer Cathy Zerbst. The week was a huge success and Taubie opened the show to the public until the end of the year.

Computicket again took bookings for an artist in a neighbouring country. She was Letta Mbulu, one of South Africa's finest black singers who, after appearing in King Kong in London, had gone to live in exile in the USA with her husband Caiphus Semenya. She opened at the Maseru Stadium in Swaziland on 2 September, backed by her American soul musicians.

The Baxter in Cape Town had taken the first plunge in presenting Alan Ayckbourn's trilogy, The Norman Conquests, in repertory. Separately titled Table Manners, Living Together and Round and Round the Garden, the plays constituted Ayckbourn's most ambitious undertaking to that date and were a huge success in London. Brickhill/Burke decided to emulate the Baxter and staged the trilogy at His Majesty's. Bill Flynn, Jana Cilliers, Sandra Duncan, Dorothy Ann Gould, Eckard Rabe and John Lesley comprised the talented ensemble for overseas director Brian Rawlinson, and each play ran for a week at a time until the fourth week when each played for two nights. The Norman Conquests should have been hugely successful, yet attendances were no more than reasonable.

At the DALRO Awards Barney Simon was voted best director for Cincinatti. English-language best acting awards went to Shelagh Holliday for A Lesson from Aloes and Bill Flynn for Play It Again Sam. Franz Marx was best Afrikaans actor for Saterdag, Sondag, Maandag and Rika Sennett won the Computicket award for Warja in Die Kersietuin.

On 14 December I advertised in the Theatre Diary that Johannesburg would offer eighteen live shows during the Christmas season. Not all of them, alas, were the success one might have hoped. At His Majesty's the Lindbergs produced the funny, raunchy musical, The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas. Dawn directed a cast led by Victor Melleney, Judy Page and Annabel Linder, but although reviews were uniformly positive, with Raeford Daniel acclaiming the quality of singing and dancing and Michael Venables predicting a hit, audience response was disappointing. The show carried a warning that it was unsuitable for those under eighteen and was hardly what I would have called family entertainment. It had closed by 21 January 1980.

Ill-fortune continued to dog PACT. Two Greek composers had been in South Africa and sold the idea of their rock musical, The Archon, to the performing arts council who decided to premiere it as their Christmas attraction at the Civic. Directed by Geoffrey Sutherland, it was given a lavish production beyond the composers' wildest dreams and was advertised with much hype as a space-age story to blow your mind. In the event, it didn't even achieve lift-off on opening night, plunging straight into the crater of monumental flops.

Among the other shows on offer were For Love or Money, presented by the Academy at the Alexander with Scottish entertainer Jimmy Logan, and, at the Academy, Doctor on the Boil directed by Rex Garner, with Geoffrey Sumner visiting again to join the local cast. The Boswell-Wilkie Circus came to town, and there were three matinee shows for children at the Civic, Arena and Alexander theatres. The Bay City Rollers, with ex-Rabbitt Duncan Faure, played a short season at the Colosseum.

For the theatre, 1979 had been a year of very mixed fortunes, but it ended with the biggest entertainment story of Southern Africa to date, the opening of Sun City in December.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

ENTR'ACTE: A PLACE IN THE SUN

Sun City, the Mecca for entertainment seekers in South Africa, was born of the vision of a dynamic and driven self-made hotel tycoon. Starting with the building of the Beverly Hills Hotel at Umhlanga Rocks outside Durban, Sol Kerzner had carved a career which took him to the Southern Suns group where, as managing director, he 'rethought, rebuilt, revitalised, in fact reinvented, the hotel industry' as journalist David Barritt put it.

To Kerzner, nothing was impossible, and people had been reading with fascination about the high-profile entrepreneurial genius' latest brainchild - the creation of a lavish hotel and casino complex for which he had chosen a site in the middle of nowhere, with no facilities and no immediately identifiable advantages- not even a road.

Flying over the country in pursuit of a suitable setting for his spectacular vision, he spotted a natural bowl - an ochre and sage-green volcanic crater - 150 kilometres in circumference and fringed by the Pilanesberg mountains. It was situated in the 'independent' homeland of Bophutatswana, about an hour's drive from the town of Rustenburg, and it was what Kerzner had been looking for.

The first sod of earth had been turned on a barren hillside in July 1978, marking the start of work on the Sun City Hotel, but Kerzner made it known that, in addition to the first exciting building, he had in mind the creation of a championship golf course, a huge man-made lake, an entertainment centre and the possibility of more hotels. He was quoted as saying that, 'having an incredibly beautiful setting which is totally undeveloped, we have been able to plan from scratch a resort complex which is going to be unique in the world.'

It is now a matter of fact that Sun City, with four hotels, including the spectacular Palace of the Lost City, man-made beaches, lakes and waterfalls, sports facilities and the vast Superbowl is, indeed, unique. Back then, the 340-room hotel, planned to open on 7 December 1979 at a cost of R30 million, struck the rational-minded as a folie de grandeur.

I, of course, hadn't an inkling of what Sun City would come to mean to Computicket- or, indeed, how important Computicket would be to Sol Kerzner's operations. I had my first meeting with Kerzner, two of his executive board members, Peter Venison and Peter Bacon, and Anthony Farmer in February 1979 to discuss the opening of the theatre in the Sun City Hotel, which Tony had been hired to design. The assignment had not only been a dream come true for Tony, but a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to work free of budgetary constraints. Kerzner wanted a theatre which could stage shows to compete with the best that Paris or Las Vegas had to offer.

Sol knew nothing about theatre, but as in everything that concerned him, he learnt fast. It certainly hadn't taken him long to cotton on to the advantages of having ticket-booking facilities through a wide spread of Computicket terminals, given the remote location of his venue, and I was called in on discussions from the beginning of programme planning. The theatre was to open with an extravaganza designed and directed by Tony Farmer. At this first meeting, I was shown the budgets. It was immediately clear to me that no expense was to be spared - five thousand rand, a vast sum in those days, had been allowed for the choreographer alone - and I listened in amazement as Tony requested accommodation for two horses and a leopard ...

In April 1979, Aubrey Louw, Peter Campbell and I had a meeting with Sol and Peter Bacon specifically about booking arrangements. Sol described in detail the facilities and attractions that would be available at Sun City and outlined a proposal for mid-week theatre packages at R20 a head, to include bus transport, dinner and a ticket to the extravaganza. Peter Campbell was detailed to organise the installation of data lines to link terminals at Sun City to Computicket. We were also told that Hazel Feldman's Showtime International had been engaged to handle the publicity for this unique venture.

A few weeks later a call came from Maeve Changuion, Sol's indispensable personal assistant, inviting me to fly to Sun City with Sol, Gary Player and some visiting Japanese golfers. It was to be my first sight of Xanadu in the bush, and during the twenty-five-minute flight from Grand Central, I intently scanned the ground below for signs of the roadbuilding essential to the existence of Sun City. There was nothing there. We landed on a piece of ground from which cows had to be chased to make way for the helicopter, and Sol escorted us to the scene of the building operations.

The site teemed with activity, and Sol, ankle-deep in sand, explained how the hotel would look when it was complete. He also pointed to a stretch of scrubland, relieved only by some parched thorn trees, and told us that within six months it would be transformed into a championship golf course, which Gary Player was designing with Ron Kirby. At this point, I think we were torn between awe and dismay. Was the man really a genius, or had he gone quite mad?

During this visit, I picked my way with a torch into the darkness of the building under construction to get some idea of where the box office would be built and where we could install our terminals. The space seemed ridiculously small and, indeed, it was. That the terminal operators have coped all these years in so tiny an area is just one of the miracles among many at Sun City.

I took my first motor journey to Sun City with my cousin Hazel. We bounced over dirt tracks in a Combi, following instructions to take a right turn outside Rustenburg where a dead donkey lay. This was not, as we had hoped, a piece of facetiousness, and one could only be grateful that that stretch of road was completed before the poor donkey's corpse had to stay there much longer. It took some time, too, before proper landing facilities for planes came into being. When Hazel asked me to join the first media group to go up by air, a guy with a torch and a walkie-talkie listened for our arrival and the pilot landed by torch-light. This was real pioneer stuff!

Planning of the first extravaganza proceeded apace during the year. Neels Hansen was on board to design the costumes, composer-conductor Adolpho Waitzman was appointed to head the musical team, Nick Navarro was engaged as choreographer. The latter two were old Las Vegas hands. Sol and Hazel organised auditions at dance director Wendy de la Harpe's home. It had been decided that classes would be held to bring the local dancers up to the high international standard that Sol, Nick and Tony Farmer expected. What nobody anticipated was the cynical attitude and lack of enthusiasm on the part of those auditioned, who seemed unable to grasp Sol's concept or to believe that so ambitious a theatrical undertaking would ever happen in the wilds of Bophutatswana.

It so happened that Hazel's husband, sports promoter Sam Feldman, was present at these auditions. When Sol had clearly had enough of the dancers' 'aggro', Sam said to him, 'What are you worrying about? You just have to walk down the main street of Las Vegas to get all the girls you want.' Sol replied, 'If you're so smart, get on a plane and get them.' Which is how Sam, who didn't know a cha-cha from a pas de deux, found himself in Vegas with Nick Navarro, where they quickly hired a full complement of beautiful hoofers. The most beautiful of all was used for the poster that advertised the show all over the country. It was only when the show had been running for many months and she was caught in a compromising position in Hillbrow, that it was discovered that she was, in fact, a transsexual, formerly a man.

The first advertisement for the inaugural extravaganza read: 'A show like you've never seen before. An exercise in sheer non-stop entertainment with lavish costumes, mind-boggling sets and some of the most stunningly beautiful girls ever to leave London, Paris, New York, Las Vegas, Los Angeles and top shows throughout the world ... An exciting, never-to-be-forgotten trip to the fun cities of the world!'

And Tony Farmer, in an interview, said, 'I've given glittering reality to every stage fantasy I've ever had. We will have volcanoes erupting, trains exploding, fantastic fireworks and 42 000 litres of water cascading towards the audience.' As December approached, with Sun City fever mounting and bookings pouring in, disaster struck. Fires broke out on the site and an unforeseen deluge of rain came down. The casino roof fell in and the area became a mud bath. The work involved in rectifying the situation delayed the completion of the hotel, which, in turn, delayed the completion of the theatre, which meant that the massive amount of state-of-the- art technical equipment couldn't be delivered and installed in time for Tony Farmer to train his technicians and rehearse for the 7 December opening. With three days to go, the decision was taken to delay the opening of the extravaganza until 15 December.

The hotel and casino, however, opened as planned. It was chaos. The publicity hype brought thousands of day trippers, undeterred by the R5 entrance fee or the additional ad-hoc charges to enter the pool area and casino. Hollywood 'stars' Camilla Sparv, Deborah Raffin and George Kennedy, whose presence had been advertised, were off doing their own thing and were nowhere to be seen. Hundreds turned up with tickets for the extravaganza, despite widespread advertisements about the change in date, and I had to cope with a barrage of angry customers. Nonetheless, that so many people had made the journey augured well.

When the show opened a week later, it did so to hysterical acclaim. Sol's dream was up and running and Computicket was besieged. We were booking air transport/ theatre packages at R35 with forty-two daily flights available, having made arrangements to issue air tickets- a procedure which had been cleared with Southern Sun's lawyers.

On 13 December, a matter of months after the first sod was turned for the creation of a golf course, the Sun City Classic was played. Grass was still being laid days before the start of play, to the disappointment of Gary Player and Ron Kirby, who had wanted nature to do its work on the course they had designed. The conditions were not conducive to great golf and special guest Arnold Palmer made his dissatisfaction known. Gary Player filed an impressive score of 278 and won the R100 000 first prize. The birth of Sun City golf had not met everybody's expectations, but it was nonetheless another remarkable achievement in so short a time, and soon it would become one of the most famous and sought-after golfing venues in the world.

On 3 March 1980 Cliff Richard, en route to a season at the Colosseum, became the first major international artist to entertain at Sun City. The first extravaganza ran until June 1980 and, while the second, to open in August, was rehearsing, the theatre was occupied by Leo Sayer and then the stunning Gloria 'I Will Survive' Gaynor. Gloria opened on 10 July, my birthday, and Hazel organised a birthday dinner for me, where I received a surprise gift- a kiss from Gloria!

The success of these artists encouraged the management to open a Las Vegas-style supper club in the then named Lucas Mangope Centre adjoining the theatre, a venue intended to keep live entertainment in constant supply, even when the theatre was closed for dress rehearsals.

Over 100 000 people had flocked to Anthony Farmer's first extravaganza between December and June. On 30 August his second opened and ran until April 1981. It was even more fantastical than the first. (The generous use of water in the 'Flight of Fantasy' Indian sequence almost drowned backstage worker Billy Domingo, who survived the downpour to become Entertainments Manager at Sun City).

Sol Kerzner's next expansionary idea was intended to involve Sun City in the world of international tennis. Computicket opened booking for an exhibition match between two of the world's greatest players, historic opponents John McEnroe and Bjorn Borg. Though tickets were priced from R90 to R40, we were inundated with bookings, only to have the event cancelled when McEnroe pulled out on the grounds that he wouldn't come to South Africa. Sixteen years later, in 1996, the pair finally came to the country, playing in the Over-35 Champion of Champions match at Sandton Square but, as each was beaten in the semi-finals, South Africa still didn't get to see the clash of the Titans.

However, Sol Kerzner then proclaimed with much ballyhoo that, 'The sun will not set from noon on Friday 24 October to 6 a.m. on Sunday 26 October.' There would be six performances of the extravaganza on offer, with movies playing whenever the show wasn't, and the casino, discos, nightclubs and restaurants would be open round the clock for a non-stop party to celebrate the weekend's centrepiece attraction: a world heavyweight title fight between Gerrie Coetzee and American Mike Weaver.

Ex-marine Weaver had knocked out John Tate to capture the title Tate had taken from Coetzee a year earlier. An arena was constructed at Sun City for the fight, to take place on the afternoon of 26 October, and Sun City was bursting at the seams with celebrities, boxing fans and the media. The atmosphere was hugely exciting but Gerrie disappointed his fans yet again by failing to take advantage of his opportunities and was knocked out in the thirteenth round.

The structure that had been erected to house the match sparked Sol's next big idea, the building of an entertainment centre which would house a super bowl arena capable of being adapted for everything from musical entertainment through boxing matches and show jumping events to major exhibitions. It would have convention areas, restaurants and banqueting halls. The Superbowl would seat something in the order of 7 000 people and be equipped with state-of-the-art technology. In July 1981, the Superbowl became a breath-taking reality

By December, the golf course had been improved beyond recognition, and the second Sun City Golf Classic was played, with Lee Trevino the guest of honour and winner of the tournament. En route to the airport with Lee when it was all over, Sol first voiced the seemingly preposterous idea of a Million Dollar tournament to be played at Sun City, with five invited golfers competing for the biggest pot in the game.

One year later, the preposterous idea was put into practice.

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

PUT ANOTHER NICKEL IN...

Although Sun City was the big attraction of 1980, the boycott which would later make it more or less the only venue for international artists, had not yet fully asserted itself. Ronnie Quibell remained indefatigable in his determination to bring out artists of world stature and popularity, despite a number of disappointing box-office returns, even for 'sure-fire' attractions.

The Quibell's decade began with The Platters, who opened at the Colosseum on 30 January. On the supporting bill were magician Jesse Jaffit, assisted by his wife Olla (parents of Gail and Lorraine). Audiences were in near-ecstasy over the live renditions of The Platters' recording hits, 'Smoke Gets in Your Eyes' and 'My Prayer', but the season lost money. They were followed in February by Romanian Gheorge Zamfir who played the Pan pipes - the Qui bells were nothing if not eclectic.

After PACT's Christmas disaster with The Archon, the Civic Theatre stood dark until Ronnie Quibell stepped in with Carnival à la District Six, a musical written and produced by Dave Bestman and Taliep Petersen. A celebration of the vibrant street life of Cape Town's coloured community and the traditional 'nuwe jaar' festivities (from which the famous Coon Carnival derived), the show opened on 22 January with a cast almost fifty strong. It was hugely successful, and Ronnie brought it back at Easter, playing this time at His Majesty's. The ethos of this show would resurface years later in the beguiling award-winning musical District Six, composed by Petersen and David Kramer.

NAPAC's Christmas production, a musical called Christian inspired by Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress, came up from Durban to play at His Majesty's from 4 February. Written by Nick Taylor and starring Taylor and Barry Kent, it was only moderately successful despite changing its title to Follow that Man in order to attract a wider audience. It closed on 29 March and was followed, on 24 April by Brickhill/Burke's production of They 're Playing Our Song, starring Marloe Scott-Wilson and Mike Huff.

The first musical (score Marvin Hamlisch, lyrics Carole Bayer Sager) from the king of Broadway comedy, Neil Simon, this earned a cornucopia of rave reviews of which Roy Christie's declaration that it was 'a triumph of the first order and a walloping wonderful hit' was typical. Joan and Louis badly needed the critics' enthusiasm, which paid off at the box office. The show ran until June and toured nationally before returning for another Johannesburg season.

Capitalising on the success of Neil Simon's musical, Joan and Louis followed it with his comedy Last of the Red Hot Lovers, about the perils of the male menopause. It was performed with style by Hal Orlandini, Melody O'Brian, Lynne Maree and Brenda Wood; it was also the last non-musical play to be staged at His Majesty's Theatre.

During March I took a quick trip to New York where I saw Sondheim's musical Sweeney Todd, the last performance starring Angela Lansbury and Len Cariou before the cast change. Long a fan of Miss Lansbury's, I was thrilled to attend the after-show party, where I reverted to my 'starstruck' mode. I then joined my mother in London for the wedding of my niece Dana, Sammy's daughter, before rushing home in time to catch the premiere of PACT Ballet's Anna Karenina.

Choreographer André Prokovsky had pared Tolstoy's great novel down to manageable proportions and staged it with immense visual flair (designer Peter Farmer) in a Prologue and seventeen scenes. As the doomed heroine, Dawn Weller gave a never-to-be-forgotten performance, reaching the height of tragic expression in the climactic suicide scene, danced amidst swirls of smoke from the steam train. Dawn won both the Friends of Ballet and Lillian Solomon (DALRO) awards.

Later in the year PACT Ballet presented Romeo and Juliet in which Weller again excelled, opposite Royal Ballet guest artist Stephen Jeffries. Her seamlessly integrated dancing and acting made for a memorable Juliet. Other partnerships to take the roles during the season were Malcolm Burn/Liane Lurie and, Maxine Denys/Bruce Simpson.

Ballet lovers also enjoyed a Festival of British Ballet at the Civic. The company in the splendid two-week season was led by Vyvyan Lorraine (her first professional appearance in the country of her birth), David Ashmole, Maina Gielgud, Michael Manning and Donald Macleary. Also, on the dance front was a heart-warming tribute to the achievements of Mercedes Molina when Enrique Segovia and the Spanish Dance Theatre gave their first season at the Civic since her death.

PACT Opera presented Cosi Fan Tutte in a production by visiting director Graham Vick (who would become one of the innovative enfants terribles of the English National Opera). The quartet of leading roles was sung by Bess Arlene, Susan Braatvedt, Manuel Escorcio and Werner Nel. It opened at the Aula in Pretoria in March before moving to the Civic, as did Neels Hansen's production of Faust with Kenneth Collins, Forbes Robinson and Elizabeth Robinson. In the second season in August Ann! Howard sang the title role in Carmen and, for the first time, we saw a Japanese soprano, Yasuko Hayashi, as Madame Butterfly. Enrico di Giuseppe sang Pinkerton.

The hit of the classical concert year was the third visit of The King's Singers, an ensemble of six unaccompanied male voices of great purity, who offered a varied programme and a keen sense of humour. Presented jointly by PACT and Musica Viva, they earned cries of 'encore' at every performance. There were return visits too from pianists Pascal Roge, John Ogden and my friend Jorge Bolet, making what would be his final appearance here. As always, he and his manager Tex Compton stayed with us and it was sad indeed when Tex died at the end of the year. The year also saw the death of Eve Boswell's parents, the Keletis. Lucy Keleti's death was followed six weeks later by that of her husband, the inimitable, bear-like Hugo, whose entrepreneurial shrewdness had benefited a generation of artists. In personal terms, I lost a valued mentor and a true friend.

Chubby Checker, Mr Twist himself, came in April but his music and gyrations were no longer in vogue and audiences were indifferent. Rock 'n' Roll veterans Bill Haley and the Comets suffered a worse fate, playing to only forty per cent capacity. Haley came to the Colosseum in June for Adele Lucas and Robin Courage. Adele's PR hype included a street celebration on opening night, but the giant of Rock 'n' Roll lacked the impact and energy of his heyday.

Also, in April, the super-sexy singing bombshell from the USA, Betty Wright, who had performed in South Africa five years previously, stormed the Colosseum stage and scored an instant bullseye with 'Do It To Me One More Time'. There was no stopping her, or the enthusiasm of her audience, after that. American Reggae star Jimmy Cliff came with his own musicians in May and, with popular local black vocalist Mara Louw supporting, gave a memorable concert at the Orlando Stadium (prices R5 and R3). The same month Geoff Egnos (Bertha's nephew), brought out a group of Kentucky boys called Exile and presented them at the Colosseum with South African Richard Jon Smith, who returned from London as the supporting act.

In July, a new promoter named Jerry Dlepu entered the light entertainment arena, announcing the presentation of O.C. Smith at the Colosseum. Smith then cancelled for the second time in three months and Roberta Kelly, who was to be on the same bill, stepped in as the headline attraction. She turned out to be an eighteen-carat stunner with a dynamic vocal range, but despite great reviews O.C. Smith's disappointed fans failed to support her or Dlepu's venture.

At the end of July, the Quibells presented blind superstar Clarence Carter, whose hits included 'I Made Love to Another Man's Wife', in a double bill at the Colosseum with another popular headliner Dobie Gray. With three supporting acts on the bill, it was an over-long evening, but the soul fans loved it and it played until 23 August.

Cliff Richard, on his seventh visit to South Africa, came out for Keith Strugnell's religious group called Pure Entertainment and introduced a concert called The Best of British Rock. By contrast, the Colosseum and the Three Arts in Cape Town welcomed the first visit of Tina Turner, who opened her tour in Johannesburg on 17 September.

Roy Christie, raving about the glittering, sizzling Tina in The Star said, 'Never has a South African stage seen such a demonstration of sexual energy unleashed in dance and song', and John Michell in the Rand Daily Mail wrote that 'the animalism of her personality hits you like a neutron bomb'. Audiences felt the same and the booking was sensational. Tina was a total professional and a pleasure to meet, and nothing had changed when she revisited us in 1996, this time playing the huge stadiums round the country.

Competing with Tina Turner for the most exciting entertainer of the year was the blind pianist-singer Ray Charles, a genius of the keyboard. He came to the Colosseum for promoter Ami Artzi in October. Nobody present will forget the hideous embarrassment of the press and the reception committee at the airport when the SABC representative asked him, 'How do you distinguish the black keys from the white ones?'

Ray's opening show demonstrated exactly how. The evening began with a set from the local group Juluka, exponents of electronic tribal pop, led by Johnny Clegg and Sipho. Clegg, who went on to world-wide fame, amazed and delighted black audiences with his dance skills in their own cultural idiom. Juluka got the evening off to a great start before Ray, backed by The Raelettes and the Ray Charles Orchestra, made his entrance and proceeded to throw himself heart and soul into the music. The most thunderous applause was reserved for his chart-topping rendition of 'Georgia on My Mind'. Such was his success that Ami grabbed an available day at the Civic to play two extra shows.

The Colosseum vibrated to the sounds of rock throughout October and November. Ray Charles was followed by Suzi Quatro, 'The Lady in Leather'. The public lapped up Suzi and her hits including, of course, 'Rock Hard', and she did great business for the Quibell Brothers, somewhat compensating for their losses suffered with Brook Benton who had come earlier in the year.

In between Ray Charles and Suzi Quatro, Cliff Richard came on yet another crowd-pulling tour with a Gospel Rock show. Suzi returned for a short repeat spell and Blood, Sweat and Tears arrived, also for the Quibells. They were one of the most vibrant and polished jazz-rock bands ever to come to South Africa, where they were well-known through radio and I had expected the fans to turn out by the thousand, but their tour which took in Johannesburg (the Colosseum), Durban and Cape Town between 26 November and 22 December, brought disappointing returns.

On 29 September 1980, months of preparation culminated in the opening of Computicket Cape Town, our first foray outside the Transvaal. Andre Krause, who had joined the Sydney Opera House after the demise of Harry Miller's business, was persuaded back to run the operation in the Western Cape, where fourteen outlets (and thirty terminals) opened simultaneously, as far afield as Somerset West.

Joan Manners, an Englishwoman who had joined me in Johannesburg in 1972, transferred to Cape Town (where she later became manager) as terminal consultant, and has a much clearer memory of the opening day events than I do. According to her, I was in such a flat spin, trying as usual to be in six places at once (including the SABC where I was interviewed and had to field a phone-in session), that she nearly had a nervous breakdown trying to calm me down.

The official opening took place at the Stuttafords outlet in Adderley Street, where the Administrator of the Cape, Gene Louw, cut the traditional red ribbon and popped the champagne before becoming the recipient of the first two tickets to be issued in the Mother City. That day we opened booking for the Ster-Kinekor cinema chain, and for Tina Turner, Ray Charles and Cliff Richard, all engaged to appear at Ronnie Quibell's Three Arts Theatre. The Oude Libertas Auditorium in Stellenbosch and The People's Space had also joined the system, but the Nico Malan complex chose to continue independently - a state of affairs that would continue for two years.

The Baxter Theatre, where the shrewd John Slemon followed the multi-racial policies of The Space and The Market, had initially opted to follow the Nico Malan course and keep an independent box office. A few days before our opening he announced a change of heart which, while very welcome, involved us in rush planning to programme the Baxter into the system, transferring advance bookings already taken. We needed extra time, and the Baxter officially went on-line on 3 November. Computicket now had a total network of 115 terminals.

Back in the straight theatre, where the success of light-hearted material echoed the general trend in the nation's taste, Pyjama Tops at the Andre Huguenet closed in mid-January on such a crest of success that Pieter Toerien announced a return season to open on 19 February. Ultimately, Pyjama Tops transferred to the Brooke Theatre where it ran until 19 July. Unbeknown to most who were present, the date marked the last performance at this wonderful theatre which had given so much pleasure. Brian closed the Brooke without fanfare, just as he had opened it twenty-five years earlier, and, in due course the building was demolished to make way for an office block

At the Barnato, Toerien/Firth produced Mothers and Fathers with Clive Parnell, Lesley Nott, Elizabeth Rae and lain Winter. Advertising for this read, 'Do you enjoy SEX ... YES OR NO!! This outrageous adult comedy has all the answers!!' In fact, the play succeeded in being funny without resorting to smut.

Between the two runs of Pyjama Tops, the Andre Huguenet housed a production of Agatha Christie's best-known perennial favourite about the systematic murder of ten house guests gathered together at an island retreat. The play, and the novel on which it is based, were originally famous as Ten Little Niggers but, by 1980, political correctness had seen the title change to Ten Little Indians.

The production was directed by Englishman Charles Hickman, the urbane and impeccably mannered product of a more genteel age. The cast included Stuart Brown, Eckard Rabe and Yvonne Banning who attracted new audiences for Pieter through their growing television popularity. Ten Little Indians was such a success that Pieter brought it back to the Alexander in May, the month that he and Shirley jointly had four productions running simultaneously.

These were A Life by Hugh Leonard at the Brooke, for which they brought Godfrey Quigley as director and co-star to Margaret Inglis; Pyjama Tops, Mothers and Fathers at the Barnato, and Mark Camelotti's comedy Happy Birthday, starring Clive Scott, at the Intimate.

In July Pieter and Shirley presented Simon Gray's macabre comedy thriller Stage Struck. Directed by Stephen Hollis, who had directed the West End production the previous year, it starred Michael McGovern and Kenneth Baker. After its season at the Grahamstown Festival in July, Middle Age Spread, a singularly witty and entertaining play with Rex Garner, Helen Jessop and Eric Flynn, toured the country under Pieter's aegis before opening at the Andre Huguenet in October. This production was significant in marking the start of a long and major working relationship in the South African theatre - between Pieter and Rex.

Escapism continued to be well served at the Academy Theatre, one of whose highlights in 1980 was Ray Sargeant's production of Send for Dolly with Norman Coombes, Christine Basson, Michele Maxwell and Jacques Loots. This was the English-language version of P.G. du Plessis' smash-hit, 'n Seder Val in Waterkloof whose humour was rooted in the comic treatment of the antipathy between an anglicised Afrikaner and his family from the Platteland. This hilarious play did great business, as did Patrick Mynhardt's finely honed portrayal of H.C. Bosman's riveting raconteur 'Oom' Schalk Lourens in More Jerepigo.

Back in March, audiences had flocked to the Academy to see The Bed, despite the critics' view that it was the worst script to reach our stages in a long time. Described by the management as 'the raunchiest romp of the year', it was adapted and directed by Jimmy Logan, with Bruce Millar, Melody O'Brian, John Lesley and Diane Appleby.

Coincidentally, a bed played a significant part in the downfall of PACT's Macbeth at the Alexander with Ron Smerczak in the title role and Sandra Prinsloo as Lady Macbeth. It was directed by Leonard Schach who, on this occasion, left his usual impeccable taste and judgement behind, concentrating on the sexual side of the Macbeths with the marital bed centre stage in an over-mechanised production.

The PACT-Schach collaboration returned to form during June and July, when Leonard directed Betrayal, Harold Pinter's award-winning three-hander about marital infidelity. Helen Bourne was imported to play the wife caught between lover and husband (Michael McGovern and Michael McCabe) and earned another best actress nomination. This was the first of three successes in a row for PACT. Sheridan's glittering Restoration comedy School for Scandal was directed by Roy Sargeant, for whom John Hussey and Erica Rogers played Sir Peter and Lady Teazle, Richard Haines Sir Joseph Surface and Bobby Heaney the effeminate eccentric Sir Benjamin Backbite. Alexander audiences relished this satirical study in malice given by an outstanding cast.

Success number three was Geoffrey Sutherland's first-class production of Joan Littlewood's scathing musical satire on World War 1, Oh! What a Lovely War. Judy Page, Michael Richard, Gay Lambert, Michael McCabe, James White and Erica Rogers led the cavalcade of characters who convey the senseless horror of the war in a piece that never fails to absorb whenever and wherever it is performed.

At the Arena, rearranged with tables and chairs and renamed the Arena Bistro Theatre, Des and Dawn Lindberg produced I'm Getting My Act Together and Taking It On the Road. Malcolm Purkey directed, with Bruce Millar and Dawn, who made an impression with her portrayal of an independent-minded feminist singer.

The Market Theatre continued to flourish in the first year of the decade. In the Laager, audiences were gripped by American playwright Israel Horowitz's 65-minute parable of urban menace, The Indian Wants the Bronx. Superbly played by Bill Curry, Michael Richard and Jonathan Rands, the production won the DALRO best director award for Bobby Heaney. Robert Kirby wrote, directed, and co-starred (with Terry Lester) in a new satirical swipe at the state of things called Separate Development! and later in the year, the country's other prime satirist, Pieter-Dirk Uys, joined by his concert-pianist sister, Tessa, and Thoko Ntshinga, came up trumps with Uyscreams with Hot Chocolate Sauce.

May at the Market was a heavyweight month. Roy Sargeant directed Peter Nichols' A Day in the Death of Joe Egg for the company, starring Danny Keogh and Durban actress Sandy Dacombe as the parents of a brain-damaged child. While this harrowing and compassionate play was at the main house, Upstairs at the Market brought back Fugard's A Lesson from Aloes in a production by Ross Devenish with Marius Weyers, Shelagh Holliday and Bill Curry. It had played to full houses at London's National Theatre, directed by Athol, and Shelagh had won a best actress nomination for Britain's Evening Standard Awards.

The sombre mood changed in June when Malcolm Purkey directed Jumpers, Tom Stoppard's witty and audacious exercise in verbal pyrotechnics with Ron Smerczak, Nicholas Ellenbogen and Michele Maxwell. Audiences adored it and it brought good business for the Market, as did Janice Honeyman's An Arabian Night at the Upstairs in July. With this production, adapted from Sir Richard Burton's translation of The Arabian Nights and described as 'a triumph of erotic imagination', actress-turned-director Janice, who had specialised in children's theatre, now established her reputation as a director of sophisticated adult entertainment. The show drew crowds and transferred to the main house after a controversial July production of Waiting for Godot ended.

The revival of Beckett's play, directed by Donald Howarth, had originated at the Baxter Theatre with John Kani as Vladimir, Winston Ntshona as Estragon and Pieter-Dirk Uys as Pozzo. Successful in Cape Town, the casting provoked controversy in Johannesburg when it was suggested that the use of a multi-racial cast, with the black actors as the tramps, introduced a spurious political statement into the play.

John and Winston, who felt that their professionalism and experience was being called into question, countered the argument and attacked white South African thinking. Donald, dining at my home one evening in the midst of the argument, blamed the media for the brouhaha. He had discussed the play with Samuel Beckett and had concentrated on making it accessible and enjoyable. 'It's a comedy,' he told me, 'Not a piece of high-minded gloom aimed only at the serious theatregoer.' At the end of the run it was announced that the production would visit the USA and Britain (where it played at the Old Vic).

In August, Die Swerfjare van Poppie Nongena, directed by Hilary Blecher for The Company with Nomsa Nene in the title role, premiered at the Market. Elsa Joubert's play, a painful reflection of conditions in the country at the time, with a largely black cast acting in Afrikaans, was something of a theatrical milestone.

In October the Market hosted Cape Town's Roundabout Theatre Company production of Metamorphosis, Steven Berkoff's vividly theatrical dramatisation of Kafka's tale which had played at The Space. Under the direction of Richard E. Grant and Mike O'Brien, Henry Goodman, Fiona Ramsay and Ian Roberts gave brilliant performances. Goodman, a Londoner well-known to Cape Town audiences, and an exceptionally gifted actor, mime and acrobat, eventually returned home to become one of the most versatile and widely acclaimed actors in the British theatre. Richard E. Grant also settled in London and rose to international screen stardom after his co-starring role in the film Withnail and I.

During the years since the demise of the Children's Theatre organisation, it had fallen largely to PACT and, latterly, the Market to provide entertainment for kids. It was encouraging in 1980 to see The Tales of Hans Christian Andersen presented at the Sandown Hall by Jill Gerard and Joyce Levinsohn, two women dedicated to resuscitating theatre for children. Some years later they evolved two separate companies, with Jill presenting plays at the Intimate under the banner People's Theatre, and Joyce running the Johannesburg Youth Theatre in Parktown.

The first Computicket award of the new decade went to Babs Laker for TRUK's Kom Terug Klein Sheba (Come Back, Little Sheba), and Marius Weyers became the first actor to win the DALRO best actor award in both the English and Afrikaans categories (for Report to the Academy and the title role in Becket).

Mannie Manim who had won a special award the previous year for his technical expertise, now won another for his outstanding contribution to the theatre. (He has continued to harvest awards, particularly for lighting, ever since).

On 5 November, six years after Joan Brickhill and Louis Burke had become involved with His Majesty's Theatre, their final production opened, marking not only the end of their lease and their brave ambitions, but the closure of another great old theatre.

For their swan song, they chose Jerry Herman's gloriously tuneful musical, Hello Dolly! adapted from Thornton Wilder's period romantic comedy The Matchmaker. Directed by Louis and starring Joan as the irrepressible matchmaker, Mrs Dolly Levi, the show was, ironically, an unqualified success at every level. The cast, who gave their all during this bitter-sweet run, included Victor Melleney as the miserly Horace Vandergelder, with Mike Huff, lain Henderson, Andrea Catzel, and old stalwarts June Bern (understudying Joan) and Charles Stodel in supporting roles. Joan's descent down the staircase for the show stopping title number was one of the year's most memorable moments.

The critics gave unqualified praise to Louis' 'lavish and spectacular' production, 'doused with a unique magic'; and Michael Venables considered Joan's performance- which would win her a DALRO award' the crowning point of a remarkable career'.

One afternoon in November, my sister-in-law Joyce phoned to say that my mother, after spending the afternoon with her great-grandson at Joyce's house, had collapsed on arriving home and was in the Kleinfontein Hospital. I dropped everything and rushed to the hospital, where we arranged to have her transferred to the Rand Clinic. My brother Sam and his wife Barbara flew out from London immediately. My mother, who had suffered a haemorrhage, never regained consciousness and died on 18 November.

Several hundred people attended Ray Tucker's funeral, a tribute to the exceptional qualities of this gentle yet vibrant woman. I had lost a friend as well as a mother. The last weeks of a year which had seen much activity, passed in a haze of sadness.
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

STATE OF THE ART

From the perspective of dedicated pleasure seekers, committed culture vultures, and Computicket staff, 1981 was dominated by three major and contrasting events: the inauguration of the Pretoria State Theatre, the opening of the Superbowl at Sun City and the first Million Dollar Golf tournament.

The State Theatre was designed by an army of architects (Botha, Latter and Partners, Daniel Smit and Viljoen) to encompass the latest state-of-the-art theatre technology along the lines of Germany's most up-to-date opera houses: sophisticated lifts, revolves, a rolling stage, and every other mechanical device that could be wished for.

The complex initially comprised a magnificent opera house-cum-concert hall seating 1 322 people, a 700-seat drama theatre, and two smaller venues, the Arena and Studio theatres. Two more, the Momentum and the Rendezvous, were incorporated later.

Many months of planning went into the first programme - a festival of the live arts in which a galaxy of stars, both local and international, would participate in a feast of opera, ballet, musical comedy, drama, orchestral music and recitals. On the opening night itself and for the remainder of that week, an opening production called Applause, designed to showcase the technical wonders of the new theatre, would play free of charge to all corners. Anthony Farmer was invited to devise and direct this fantastic exercise in public relations.

When I received confirmation of the programme, I was very excited by its diversity and excellence. Three operas were to be staged: La Traviata, directed by Neels Hansen, designed by Anthony Farmer, conducted by Robin Stapleton and sung by Adriana Maliponte and the great Alfredo Krause; one of Britain's premier opera directors, Anthony Besch, would mount a production of Verdi's Otello, conducted by Leo Quayle with Italian stars Carlo Cossuta and Maria Chiara as Otello and Desdemona and South Africa's Lawrence Folley as Iago; finally, the perennially popular double bill of Cavalleria Rusticana and I Pagliacci would be directed by Hansen, conducted by Quayle, and sung by impressive casts that included Britain's Peter Glossop and the wonderful Italian soprano Fiorenza Cossotto. PACT would supply the ballet, beginning with The Three Musketeers, a new work choreographed by André Prokovsky and designed by Peter Farmer. Giselle would follow, danced by guest artists Margaret Barbieri (Durban born) and David Wall from the Royal Ballet, and, finally, Sleeping Beauty, in glorious settings by Peter Cazalet, with several partnerships, notably that of Dawn Weller and Malcolm Burn, alternating.

Musical comedy was to be represented by revivals of three great PACT successes, Kismet, The Great Waltz, and, inevitably, Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat with Richard Loring and Alvon Collison still on board. The ambitious English-language theatre programme would commence with Peter Shaffer's impressive play about the Spanish conquest of the Incas, The Royal Hunt of the Sun, with Leonard Schach directing a heavyweight cast: Keith Grenville, Marius Weyers, Michael McCabe, David Horner, Patrick Mynhardt and Bill Flynn. Leonard would also revive After the Fall, with Brian Murray and Erica Rogers. Laughter would be supplied by Robert Mohr's production of A Midsummer Night's Dream with Etienne Puren as Oberon, Louise Saint Claire as Titania, Michael Richard as Puck and Tobie Cronje as Bottom; and Eduardo di Filippo's hilarious Italian comedy Filumena, directed by François Swart and starring Wilna Snyman in the title role.

The new drama theatre would present six Afrikaans plays, including past favourites Kanna Hy Ko Hystoe, Siener in die Suburbs and Ampie, and N.P. Van Wyk Louw's Germanicus starring Marius Weyers in the title role.

The formidable line-up of Afrikaans actors included Louis van Niekerk, Sandra Prinsloo, Anna Neethling Pohl and Carel Trichardt. The theatre in prospect was thrilling, but one could hardly fail to notice the absence of political satirists, social conscience playwrights and black performers. The latter were also excluded from the musical events, which included six symphony concerts, three from the Bamberg Symphony Orchestra conducted by James Loughran, and three from the PACT Festival Orchestra under the baton of former Bolshoi Ballet conductor Kirill Kondrashin. Russia was also represented by pianist Mark Zeltser, and the savagely exciting Kasatka Cossacks, a live-wire troupe of dancers, singers and musicians.

The celebrated forty-two voice German choir, the Vokal Ensemble Marburg/Frankfurt, would open the recital segment of the festival, during which performances would be given by South Africans Mimi Coertse, Werner Nel, Joyce Barker and Emma Renzi. Other foreign classical artists were Korean violinist Dong-Suk Kang, Israeli pianist Ari Vardi, Spanish guitarist Narcisco Yepes and the Vienna Boys' Choir. Somewhat out on a limb, Eric Smith, formerly of Pretoria but living in Israel, was to bring his puppet show called Eric's Puppet Company.

The programme, comprising fifty-seven events, was reminiscent of the 1956 Johannesburg Festival- as was the complexity of handling subscription bookings. Those who wanted to attend all fifty-seven events (unbelievably, many did!) were offered a special all-in price of R300 per person, as against the R408 it would have cost at the normal prices. There were also several other discount packages and, as had been the case in Johannesburg twenty-five years earlier, my staff was continually on the telephone trying to sort out the application forms, but this time we had a proficient and speedy computerised system to mark plans and issue tickets. By June, a week after the official opening, we had sold 150 000 advance tickets for the State Theatre.

On the evening of 23 May 1981, the invited guests assembled at the State Theatre where, at an outdoor ceremony on the east side of the building in front of the new drama theatre, the State President, The Hon Marais Viljoen, gave the opening address. The theatre was declared open by the Administrator of the Transvaal, Mr S.G. van Niekerk, and the audience repaired to the main opera house auditorium to see the curtain rise for the first time in the impressive new complex.

There was, however, no curtain to rise. They were greeted by the sight of the vast stage, exquisitely lit but empty. The orchestra began the overture, a door opened at the back of the stage, and a shaft of light beamed down onto the audience. Into this light stepped Siegfried Mynhardt, who walked slowly to the front of the stage to deliver the opening oration, the first four words of which, spoken in Latin, were 'Veni veni Creator Spiritus'. ('Come, Creator Spirit, come.')

Anthony Farmer's instructions to Siggie during rehearsal had been specific, adamant and unexplained. 'Keep walking,' he ordered. 'Don't, under any circumstances, either stop or look back.' The reason for this, kept from the actor so as not to make him nervous, was that, as he walked down stage, crossing five sets of stage lifts, each lift, as he cleared it, descended into the bowels of the earth so that, when Siggie reached the front, there was a gaping space, fifty-metres deep, awaiting the set which would rise on a lift for the opening scene of Applause, a ballet called Overture, specially choreographed by Ashley Killar.

Inevitably on these occasions, there was a hitch. Siggie finished his beautifully delivered oration (given in English and Afrikaans as well as Latin), the computer refused to function, and the lift never rose. As the orchestra relentlessly continued the overture, the dancers ran up five flights of stairs from their dressing-rooms and got onto the stage by means of improvised athletic leaps. Tony Farmer sat in the auditorium gestating a nervous breakdown, but the audience was none the wiser.

Tony rose spectacularly to the challenge of demonstrating the creative possibilities of the new theatre. The show itself was an eclectic mix, a taste of the season to come, but staged with ingenuity and imagination. The first week's audiences were treated, among other items, to an excerpt from Die Fledermaus, to the ballet Caprice, to the final scenes from Joseph, and to Scene II, Act Ill of King Lear, with Keith Grenville as Lear and Anthony James as The Fool and, in Afrikaans, an excerpt from Theodora, François Swart' s translation of El Gran Galeato.

The spectacular climax of the evening, however, was Act II, Scene II from Verdi's Aida, in which soloists Emma Renzi, Stephen Tudor, Susan Braatvedt and Lawrence Folley led an unprecedentedly massive chorus in the Triumphal March. The scene was further embellished by live horses, chariots and caged lions.

To make up the chorus numbers, Tony and Neels Hansen had persuaded the army to lend them a large contingent of soldiers who, in common with the lions, grew very bored waiting around during rehearsals. To ensure the right excitement during the show, Tony armed one of the army recruits with a sharp stick and instructions to prod the lions as they were wheeled towards the stage. On opening night this worked like a dream. The vast doors opened, the cages appeared and the lions, pacing inside them, erupted into a roar which duplicated the effect of the famous MGM screen logo. A memorable evening ended with a lavish dinner, served on stage from laden tables lowered from the flies.

His contribution to the opening of the State Theatre marked Siegfried Mynhardt's last appearance on the live stage, although he worked in television over the years. This great actor and much-loved man died on 28 March 1996, aged eighty-seven.

On 21 July 1981, three days prior to the opening of the Superbowl, I went up to Sun City to finalise the opening night details with Hazel and saw another Kerzner miracle in the making. I arrived to find bare ground outside the Entertainment Centre and chaos raging inside the Superbowl, where bare wires hung loose everywhere while an army of workmen swarmed up and down ladders. When I left that night, the bare ground had become a luxuriant lawn and the Superbowl was on course for the opening which I, along with everyone but Sol, was convinced could never happen as scheduled. What was ready that day was the star dressing-room, a mini-complex that included a lounge and a bathroom, and which had been luxuriously furnished, down to the baby grand piano. Nowhere in the world had I seen anything quite like it.

On 24 July 1981, 6 500 people streamed into the Superbowl to hear the world's most famous crooner, Ol' Blue Eyes himself, Frank Sinatra. I find it difficult to describe the excitement generated by the combination of this unique venue and the appearance of the legendary star, whose beguiling voice and incomparable interpretation of an enduring repertoire, spiced with his offstage exploits, had kept him in the headlines for decades.

Sinatra fever had gripped the country. On the first day of booking, at the highest prices ever charged in South Africa, Computicket sold 20 000 tickets including all R75 and R50 seats. (The only day on which the rush for seats slowed to a trickle was when the entire country watched the wedding of Charles and Di on TV). The Sinatra entourage arrived on 23 July at Jan Smuts Airport where the singer never left the tarmac, having agreed to set foot on South African soil only for as long as it took to change planes for Bophutatswana. He remained as good as his word, although his wife, Barbara, made shopping expeditions to Sandton City.

Sinatra's show lived up to all expectations and more. He drew on the full armoury of his expertise, earning the love and respect of his audiences and receiving ovations almost as spine-tingling as the concerts themselves. As Roy Christie raved, 'It's the most dynamically entertaining experience you're likely to have this, or any other, year.'

During this ongoing excitement, another live entertainment venue opened at Sun City, the Galaxy Revue Bar, a lounge equipped with a stage that changed into a disco floor. The inaugural show was a variety bill topped by a group of mind-bogglingly energetic Americans called The Dancin' Machine. The cover charge for the Galaxy was R5.

Hazel had a superb line-up of stars to follow Sinatra into the Super bowl. First, direct from Las Vegas came Cher, whose show was on a scale rarely seen before in Southern Africa. Aside from the elaborate sets, costumes and special effects, she was accompanied by a supporting company of fifty-three performers and the Buddy Rich Orchestra. An outrageous, uninhibited personality, Cher stunned the audience by riding a mechanical bull, sliding down a giant shoe and spinning through the air in her famously provocative costumes. She played for only three nights and, by the Saturday, 25 000 people had arrived at Sun City, the biggest crowd to that date.

Cliff Richard gave one performance in August and other highlights of the constant stream were The Osmonds, the 'wholesome' singing family whose live show was far more sexy and sophisticated than their bland TV series; Shirley Bassey, the powerhouse from Tiger Bay, Cardiff, who came with her orchestra direct from her sell-out season at New York's Carnegie Hall, and played to capacity (top price R60); rock keyboard wizard Rick Wakeman; Glenn 'By the Time I Get to Phoenix' Campbell, who was not a success, and Sha Na Na who were.

Sha Na Na tore the Superbowl apart with their infectious brand of rock music and attracted such crowds that, in one single week in November, we booked 22 000 day trippers onto Sun City buses and planes. Control of the buses was becoming something of a problem both for Computicket and for the bus companies, who didn't own enough vehicles to service the demand and had to hire any bus they could lay their hands on. Problems were compounded by the hundreds who turned up at the bus station without tickets but determined to get to Sun City. Return journeys were even more chaotic, with customers ignoring timetables and those who were on a winning streak in the casino not bothering to go home at all and sleeping on the hotel lawns at dawn. Anxious parents in Johannesburg met the last bus at 3 a.m. hoping their teenage children were on it, and we had to run a virtual missing persons bureau to deal with their calls when they weren't.

The disappointment of the first Superbowl season was The Village People, six self-styled fantasy figures whose film Can't Stop the Music had brought them enormous popularity in South Africa. I was present at their promotional press conference at the Rand International, where they were well received, but the opening night of the show was remarkably dull. The audience tried to get up and dance, part of the group's formula, but were prevented from doing so by the seating configuration. Their disappointment was sharpened by the jaded air and couldn't- care-less attitude of The Village People.

Super bowl's first Christmas, however, was a triumph. Audiences poured in to enjoy the legendary Californian group The Beach Boys, who didn't disappoint, and the money-making show was further enhanced by British singer Lulu on the supporting bill.

The first Sun City Million Dollar Golf Tournament teed off on 31 December. Five champion golfers, who held a combined total of thirty-five championship titles and had won some ten million dollars between them, came to compete in the glitziest tournament ever held in Southern Africa, for the then first ever million-dollar purse in international golf. The highest prize in the USA at that time was $435 000.

The players were the venerable Jack Nicklaus, Lee Trevino, one of the sport's most colourful characters, the exciting Spaniard Severiano Ballesteros, all-American golden boy Johnny Miller, and South Africa's Gary Player, who acted as tournament host. To add to the glamour of the event, a number of show business personalities who loved to golf came to play alongside the world's best. For golfing and show business enthusiasts, of which there is none more enthusiastic than I, it was a totally thrilling weekend.

Telly 'Kojak' Savalas came, but spent more hours in the casino than on the course; Sean Connery, the original James Bond and a good golfer, thought the location more desirable than some of those in which he had filmed; Academy Award-winning veteran (for Marty) Ernest Borgnine hacked his way around the course, finding it more difficult than the making of The Poseidon Adventure. Johnny Mathis came to play, his swing as sweet as his voice, and baseball hero Joe di Maggio, ex-husband of Marilyn Monroe, found the course to his liking. Efrem Zimbalist Jr had a hole-in-one at the fourth, but Country-and-Western star Glen Campbell's game echoed the failure of his concert appearance a couple of weeks earlier. Among other guests were British racing driver James Hunt, boxer Alan Minter, who was all thumbs away from the ring, and local broadcaster John Berks, who quickly realised he was more at home with a microphone

It was huge fun to watch the amateurs, and a revelation to follow the pros. They were attended by thousands of fans whose devotion was more than rewarded by the climax of the tournament which was a fantasy scenario come true: at the final tee, there was a three-way tie between Nicklaus, Miller and Ballesteros. To add to the tension and delight of the crowd, after the 72nd hole was played, with Nicklaus out, Seve and Johnny were tied at 277. The play-off started at the sixteenth hole and, with the silent throng watching intently as the sun sank behind the Pilanesberg mountains, it went on - and on, and on. After ninety minutes of nail-biting golf, in which the two men matched each other virtually shot for shot, the contest ended at the third attempt on the eighteenth green, when Ballesteros missed his putt.

Johnny Miller became the first winner of the world's richest tournament and pocketed $500 000. Sol Kerzner's latest 'madness' had produced one of the great spectacles in sporting history.

At the tournament dinner, I was appointed to host a table at which Ernest Borgnine, Efrem Zimbalist Jr and his actress daughter Stephanie would be seated. It was a relatively intimate occasion- in later years, brilliantly masterminded by Melanie Millin, these dinners would become productions in themselves. I enjoyed renewing my friendship with Johnny Mathis and couldn't resist telling the genial Scotsman, Sean Connery, how I had met him thirty years earlier in Mary Martin's dressing- room. When it was all over, Graham and I had the pleasure of driving Joe di Maggio from Sun City to Jan Smuts airport. He was very discreet, and it was clear that I couldn't bring up the two subjects I most wanted to discuss- Marilyn Monroe and After the Fall.

Having left home for Sun City in December 1981, we arrived back in January 1982. Computicket was entering its second decade.
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

AND THE BAND PLAYED ON.....

While the year's major entertainment events were unfolding in Pretoria and Bophutatswana, 1981 continued the pattern set at the beginning of the decade. Though our entertainment venues were largely desegregated, elsewhere apartheid was casting ever darker shadows and, during the next few years, international moves to sanctions and boycotts would steadily increase. However, in the early Eighties, there was a near-flood of overseas artists into the country, a remarkable number of them black.

The Colosseum was the major venue for the year's invasion, which began in January with Ronnie Quibell's presentation of the five soul singing Tavares Brothers. They were something of a disappointment, but former world boxing champ Jack du Pree, now a New Orleans blues giant who appeared on the same bill, knocked out the audience with his barrelhouse blues playing. At the same time, with Judy Page as special guest artist, Ronnie presented comedian Shelley Berman at the Civic. Thanks to television, Shelley was better known here than on his earlier visit, but nonetheless drew no more than average crowds. Lovelace Watkins, on his fourth visit for Yango John, followed the Tavares Brothers into the Colosseum, where he was succeeded by Europe's leading rock 'n' roll, reggae, disco and space group, Supermax.

Ronnie Quibell took the theatre again in March for what promised to be a bumper four-attraction show. However, headliners Peaches and Herb had been double-booked for Sun City and had to be replaced by vocalist Candi Stanton. She suffered the double whammy of being mostly unknown to South Africans and contracting a throat infection which affected her opening performance. American Jimmy Bo-Horne (hit songs 'Spank' and 'You Can Get Me Hot') materialised, but big attraction Rufus Thomas fell ill and had to cancel at the last minute. In the event, the stars of this much-heralded and ill-fated show turned out to be a local act from Soweto called Blondie and Papa ...

In April, Ami Artzi took the Colosseum for master illusionist Richiardi, then Ronnie was back with French pianist Richard Clayderman, billed as 'The greatest attraction since Liberace'. The quiet, dreamy Frenchman was actually nothing like the flamboyant American, but his expert pseudo-classical arrangements of romantic tunes had sold over twenty-two million LPs and the public flocked to hear him - and Des and Dawn who supplied the first half of the show.

The last performance of Hello Dolly! marking the closure of His Majesty's, took place on 28 February 1981. It was a very emotional evening, at the end of which the thunderous applause was tempered by the tears of the audience, witnessing the death of a landmark theatre which, as Louis Burke said in his curtain speech, 'would besmirch the collective conscience of South Africa and of every individual'. If only this somewhat melodramatic sentiment had been true, the theatre would perhaps still be standing.

The Burkes gave the proceeds from this final performance to The Star newspaper's TEACH (Teach Every African Child) fund.

There was a modicum of comfort to be derived on the cultural front from the opening of a Civic Theatre on 14 February in the West Rand town of Roodepoort. Under the enthusiastic and indomitable directorship of conductor Weiss Doubell, the Roodepoort Civic fast became an active centre, especially for symphonic music and opera. The first event I attended there was a recital given by the youthful British violinist Nigel Kennedy, on tour for PACT Music.

PACT Drama began the year with another revival of Arthur Miller's The Crucible, directed by William Egan. The central roles of John Proctor and his wife Elizabeth were taken by Ran Smerczak and Sandra Prinsloo, and the black character of Tituba was at last properly cast, with Thoko Ntshinga. Not for the first time in watching this play, I made the connection between the bigotry at the heart of the drama and the bigotry with which we all lived, and I left the theatre feeling sad and angry.

The Afrikaans repertoire kicked off with a translation of the Shakespeare setwork, The Merchant of Venice. Louis van Niekerk directed Die Koopman van Venesie with Don Lamprecht as Shylock and Rika Sennett as Portia. Afrikaans theatre reached something of a milestone with the first translation of a Fugard play. Produced by Die Bywoners, directed by Jan Engelen and starring Schalk Jacobsz and Elna Potgieter, Hallo en Koebaai (Hello and Goodbye) opened Upstairs at the Market, followed there in February /March by Pieter-Dirk Uys' Karnaval.

Banned after ten performances in Cape Town in 1976, Karnaval, a celebration of Cape Town street life, had only recently been unbanned. Johannesburg critics and audiences relished Dawie Malan's production, played by Magda Beukes, Lida Botha, Dale Cutts and Joey de Koker.

In April, playing late-night at the Market Café, Pieter-Dirk once again exploited politics for the pleasure of audiences with Adapt or Dye. The hour-long show hit an unprecedented number of targets and became one of its author/actor's best-known successes, overseas as well as at home.

Nobody, from P.W. Botha to the Progressive Party, escaped the barbs, some of which were delivered by that now immortal creation, Evita Bezuidenhout. Performances of Adapt or Dye were preceded in the 8 p.m. slot at the Market Cafe by Met Permissie Gesê, the first Afrikaans cabaret, which, though totally different in concept from Uys' work, also invited mirth through mockery of our masters.

January saw the reopening of Zeyda (Yiddish for grandfather). This Laager production of local writer Henry Rootenberg's funny and loveable play had been so successful in October, that it found a new home at the Alexander, where Nicholas Ellenbogen, Molly Seftel and Frantz Dobrowsky repeated their excellent performances.

By arrangement with the Baxter, the Market main house began the year with Cold Stone Jug, adapted and directed by Barney Simon from the play by Stephen Gray. Based on the book by H.C. Bosman, it was a harrowing piece in which a large cast graphically demonstrated the mental torture endured by prison inmates. In another full year at the Market, two other productions of serious plays stood out, both featuring Shelagh Holliday whose range and versatility had grown with the years.

In July, in American playwright Arthur Kopits' drama Wings, Shelagh gave an unforgettable performance, wordlessly conveying the agonising frustration of a woman who has suffered a stroke and is unable to communicate. Then, in August at The Upstairs, under Lucille Gillwald's direction, Shelagh shone as the pathetic and infuriating Amanda, mother of the crippled Laura (Lesley Nott) in a superb revival of The Glass Menagerie. Downstairs at the same time, Cape Town's Troupe Theatre Company brought their energetic production of the Brecht-Weill Threepenny Opera with Sean Taylor leading a good cast.

Twenty-seven years after his first visit to Johannesburg Emlyn Williams, now a venerable seventy-six-year-old, brought his Charles Dickens evening to the Market at the invitation of the Company. Though the brilliance of his portrayal of Dickens' colourful gallery of characters was undimmed by time, audience tastes had changed, and Emlyn's tour was not well-attended.

In the last quarter of the Market year, Nongogo, Athol Fugard's compelling work about township life, ran at the Laager with Thoko Ntshinga giving a marvellous performance while, in the main house, in celebration of the Market's fifth birthday, Marico Moonshine and Mampoer delighted audiences. Co-directed by Janice Honeyman and Barney Simon, this hilarious musical confection took its inspiration from quite a different category of Bosman stories from those of Cold Stone Jug.

But the unqualified triumph of the Market Theatre's year was Woza Albert! which opened in the Laager on 26 March 1981, returned to the main house in September after a record-breaking tour, and went on to make its mark in twenty-three seasons all over the world, winning numerous awards at home and abroad.

The fruit of an improvisatory exercise (as the workshopped Cincinatti had been) developed by Mbongeni Ngema and Percy Mtwa under Barney Simon's direction, Woza Albert! took as its central idea the return to earth of Jesus, who lands in apartheid South Africa to which he has travelled by SAA jumbo jet. Both hilarious and provocative, the play featured explosive and skilled performances by its two committed and uninhibited actors and became a landmark in our theatre.

The Toerien/Firth year at the Intimate saw a continuation during January of Rose, which had opened in November 1980. In this engrossing play by Andrew Davies about a schoolteacher who rises above the adverse circumstances of her life, Sandra Duncan's performance was a tour de force. When Sandra's run closed at the Intimate, Tomfoolery moved in. A compilation of brilliant songs by macabre, off-the-wall humourist Tom Lehrer, put across with appropriate understanding by Michael McGovern, Andre Hattingh, Tim Plewman and Jonathan Rands, the show was both a commercial and a cult hit.

At the Andre Huguenet, Pieter satisfied the seemingly infinite public appetite for Agatha Christie with The Spider's Web. Rex Garner, departing from farce, and Shelagh Holliday led a company that numbered Paddy Canavan and Kenneth Baker among its members. In March, thriller gave way to comedy with the arrival of Leslie Phillips, one of Britain's most polished boulevardiers, who came out to star for Pieter in a revival of a 1920s piece called Canaries Sometimes Sing. It was reasonably entertaining, but Mr Phillips was better than the play.

Pieter Toerien's major contribution to the year, however, and one of the most substantial plays he had ever mounted, was his production of Peter Shaffer's Amadeus. Literate, witty and compelling, it had been hugely successful in London and would later go to Broadway. Meanwhile, Nikolas Simmonds directed it for Pieter (who put it on for his personal satisfaction, but with little confidence in its box-office appeal) with Richard Haines as Salieri and Ralph Lawson as Mozart.

Both actors were excellent in a superbly realised production which opened at Pieter's latest acquisition, the Alhambra Theatre, which he had purchased from JODS. To Pieter's surprise and delight, Amadeus was an enormous critical and popular hit. The season was extended, with Richard Haines, who had prior commitments, replaced by Michael Atkinson who played Salieri with memorable brilliance.

Milos Foreman's film version of Amadeus was released in 1984 and collared eight Oscars. The distinguished Czech director came to Johannesburg to promote the film and accepted my invitation to be guest of honour at the Johannesburg Film Society dinner. Pieter Toerien's achievements were honoured during the run of Amadeus by Jaycee (Junior Chamber of Commerce) who presented him with one of their annual FOYSA (Four Outstanding Young South Africans) awards. These awards were given to candidates under forty years of age who had demonstrated exceptional success in their field of endeavour, and the Jaycee committee had approached me to nominate a candidate in the entertainment field. I had no hesitation in recommending Pieter Toerien, and in my written submission, I recalled his many achievements in a career that began when he was seventeen. In the twenty years since, he had become a prolific theatre producer, battling the boycott to bring us Broadway and London successes. Lessee of the Intimate and Andre Huguenet Theatres, he had crowned his glory with the purchase of the Alhambra.

Pieter's record, I wrote, was unsurpassed in recent South African theatre history, and it was with pride and pleasure that I saw him receive his award at a banquet in the Carlton Hotel Ballroom. Always reluctant to take centre stage (he hides away at his own opening nights) and expressing great nervousness, he nevertheless extemporised a forty-minute thank you speech which was the witty highlight of the evening.

At the Intimate, success of a different kind ran parallel with Amadeus. Leslie Darbon's comedy-cum-suspense thriller, Murder by Proxy, gave five months of employment to James White, Yvonne Banning, Richard Cox and James Borthwick. However, the rather more serious Passion Play by Peter Nichols, with Nikolas Simmonds directing at the Andre Huguenet, was beset by illness and accidents to cast members and closed after three unsatisfactory weeks.

Much else happened throughout the year. Des and Dawn presented Lennon at the Arena Bistro, with Dawn directing this nostalgic and celebratory tribute to the genius of the famous Beatle; Bruce Millar, Gay Lambert, Colin Shapiro and Colin Shamley sang the songs and told the stories. At the Civic in July the Lindbergs directed a guitar festival called Guitars from Africa, beguiling to enthusiasts of the instrument.

Also, at the Arena, PACT put on the State Theatre Overflow Show. This parochial but side-splitting revue-style show was inspired by the chaotic, often hilarious problems that we had encountered at Computicket over booking kits for the opening of the State Theatre. The cast poked at anything and everything and audiences flocked to enjoy the antics of Michael McCabe, James White, Pamela Gien and Peter Terry, directed by Nigel Vermaas.

In January, Dawn Weller had become the first PACT dancer to guest with CAPAB Ballet, dancing Sylvia in David Poole's production at the Nico Malan. Back in Johannesburg in March, she danced the difficult role of Aurora, with its famous 'Rose Adagio', opposite Malcolm Burn's Florimund in PACT's Sleeping Beauty. This production was restaged in August and September for the first ballet season at the Pretoria State Theatre. During the seasons of Beauty, the leads were danced by three other pairs - Liane Lurie/Jeremy Coles, Maxine Denys/Edgardo Hartley and Beverly Bagg/Bruce Simpson.

Dance lovers were also treated to a visit, arranged by Ami Artzi, of the Batsheva Dance Company from Israel. One of the world's major dance companies, they opened at the Civic on 2 June and gave three different programmes during their season.

June and July were rich in satire, with Robert Kirby and Terry Lester back again with a revue called Academy Rewards, staged, appropriately, at the Academy Theatre, while at the Market, Janice Honeyman directed a satirical cabaret called Ain 't We Got Fun, which invoked the style and spirit of the 'Roaring Twenties', while aiming strong satirical darts.

Also, at the Market, in the main theatre, Taubie Kushlick reminisced about the musicals she had produced in her long career, while Judy Page and Marloe Scott-Wilson sang their hearts out in the resoundingly successful compilation show called From Taubie with Love.

In August, The Chinese Acrobats of Taiwan appeared at the Civic during a nationwide tour which had begun in Durban, where Michal Grobbelaar had seen them and snapped them up for Johannesburg. A troupe of twenty-nine youngsters aged between eleven and sixteen, practising an art that was more than two thousand years old, combined incredible feats of strength and endurance with tumbling, juggling and balancing acts. It was terrific.

To the gratification of Johannesburg audiences, the Academy played host to the Baxter Theatre production of Seer in the Suburbs, the English version of P.G. du Plessis' Siener in die Suburbs, with Dale Cutts, Trudie Taljaard, Bo Petersen and Marcel van Heerden.

The Quibell Brothers, seldom inactive, ignored the competition from Sun City and continued importing Afro-American artists to the advantage of those audiences who couldn't or wouldn't visit Sol Kerzner's pleasure palace. Between September and October, the Quibells brought American pop star Curtis Mayfield and his Superfly Band, Shirley Brown (reminiscent of the great Aretha Franklin) and, once again, magnetic soul-singer Clarence Carter. These entertainers occupied the Colosseum as did another blind musician, the incomparable George Shearing, brought here by a businessman as a private venture. Ronnie Quibell took the Sanlam Auditorium to present Joe Dolan and his Drifters. Joe, who had a host of South African fans, was fascinated to hear that tickets for his show were sold by computer and visited our offices to see the system in action. The staff were thrilled to meet a celebrity.

The major musical of the year, however, was undoubtedly Andrew Lloyd-Webber and Tim Rice's Evita, the smash-hit which had taken the life of Eva Peron as its unlikely subject matter. Directed by Geoffrey Martin, Evita opened on 30 October at the State Theatre with Jo-Ann Pezzaro as Evita (Sharon Lynne shared the coveted role with her thereafter), Gé Korsten as General Peron, and Eric Flynn as Che Guevara. By 27 October, all 29 000 seats for the three-week Pretoria run were sold out (Prices R11 to R4). The show moved to the Johannesburg Civic on 20 November, where it played to near one hundred per cent capacity.

November brought a visit from the American partnership of Bob Wright and Chet Forrest. In a prolific career spanning almost fifty years, they had given us the music and lyrics for a host of musicals, among them Kismet, and films such as the· Nelson Eddy-Jeanette MacDonald Maytime, and were still going strong. They were brought to Johannesburg by Diane Todd and her then husband, Robin Dolton, to oversee the world premiere of their new musical, I, Anastasia, set to a score by Rachmaninov. Before the opening night at the Alexander in December, Graham and I gave a party for Chet, Bob and the company, for which I had a cake made in the design of the Russian Imperial Crown with a picture of Diane as Anastasia set in the diadem. Unfortunately, the party was more successful than the show, whose plot sat ill with the music and which lacked pace. It was a financial disaster.

Graham and I kept in touch with Chet Forrest and Bob Wright. In 1989 we went to the New York opening of their new musical, Grand Hotel, but the composers, who hadn't responded to any of our messages, were nowhere to be seen. We were subsequently told that, although credited in the advertising and programme, they had been fired.

Another visitor that year was Danny La Rue. Tall, good-looking and talented, he was England's most sophisticated and popular drag artist and had come out to see Sun City where he had been invited to perform. At Anthony Farmer's behest I organised a large luncheon party for theatre and media celebrities to be held in the ideal setting of Tony's beautiful Northcliff home. Since Danny was one of the most courteous, charming and delightful celebrities I'd ever dealt with, this 'assignment' was a great pleasure.

Unfortunately, his proposed stint at Sun City never materialised. However, I invited English actress, comedienne and musical comedy star Marti Caine (who was here making the film of Birds of Paradise, directed by Rex Garner) to the party and Tony Farmer was so entranced with her, that he persuaded Hazel to sign her up for his 1982 Sun City extravaganza, Voila!

Sun City, indeed, was the ongoing, overarching attraction of the year. Not only was it still a novelty, but Hazel Feldman was surpassing herself with the quality of exciting international entertainers who performed there, both in the theatre between extravaganzas, and at the Superbowl. Not that it was all plain sailing, as we were only too aware at Computicket which was the lifeline to Sun City's bookings.

One of Broadway's great singer/dancers, Ben Vereen, was contracted to play the theatre in April when the current extravaganza ended but cancelled at short notice in response to threats by anti-apartheid groups in the USA. Gladys Knight and the Pips were to come in May, booking was great - and the same thing happened. With two in a row, refunds were outstripping sales in my offices. Third time lucky, however, brought Jack Jones (plus Peaches and Herb), at short notice to replace Vereen. Audiences adored Jack, a master craftsman in the crooning tradition of Tony Bennett. Australian singer Helen Reddy came to the rescue in place of Gladys Knight and was a magical success.

For those who weren't at Sun City to see Cher in August, Ronnie Quibell provided the sultry Rita Coolidge, described as having 'a voice like sunshine', for appreciative audiences at the Colosseum.

The organisation Artists Against Apartheid was gradually gathering momentum in the USA. This development would come to affect Sun City seriously in due course but, for the moment, quality entertainers who wouldn't play in South Africa came in sufficient numbers to justify the long journey for thousands of fans.

In the theatre, as the year drew to a close, a new extravaganza called Bedazzled was keeping audiences happy. Directed and staged by Joan Brickhill and Louis Burke, the stars of the show included Tanya, an elephant who had graced many a stage throughout the world and who the Burkes had imported from Las Vegas. During the Million Dollar Golf, Tanya struck up a friendship with jack Nicklaus and delighted in rifling his pockets with her trunk.

By the end of December, it was clear that Sol Kerzner's dream, only two years old, had materialised beyond all our wildest imaginings - and that, just as Computicket depended on Sun City, Sun City depended on Computicket for the continuing health of its enterprise.
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

FUTURE INDICATIVE

The magnificent art deco Colosseum was under growing threat. Built in 1933, it was the aesthetic flagship of the big three together with the Empire and His Majesty's. An architectural venture into 'Hollywood Gothic', the cream plaster exterior was decorated with Egyptian sculptures, including a Pharaoh with his concubine and attendant cobras, and a symmetrical row of giant Egyptian pilasters with bronze papyrus-leaf capitals. This was all the work of René Shapshak. The foyer, a magnificent double-volume Egyptian peristyle hall with a mezzanine gallery and striking Art Deco lighting, gave way to architect-artist William Timlin's lavish fantasy interior, of which the most original and fairy tale feature was the ceiling - a velvety dark blue expanse studded with twinkling stars. The building, with its Moorish, Egyptian and Roman elements, ranked with New - York's finest examples of the period. What it lacked was the space and technical equipment for the scale of live entertainments for which it was the only really suitable venue.

By 1982, the rumbling threat to the Colosseum's continued existence could no longer be ignored. Fourteen million rand was needed to convert the theatre into a more practical and profitable venue and Nigel Mandy, chairman of the Central Business Districts Association (CBDA), set up a scheme to raise the money. The deadline for this was June.

There was insufficient response to the CBDA fund-raising scheme and it was abandoned in July. Sanlam, declaring the Colosseum the uneconomical occupier of a valuable site, gave notice that the building would, in all probability, be demolished to make way for an office block. Meanwhile, the Colosseum and the Quibell Brothers, had begun the year inauspiciously when singer-songwriter Janis Ian failed to draw full houses. However, the return of Milly Jackson in February, with her show advertised as unsuitable for people under twenty-one, packed the theatre to the rafters with largely black fans, enjoying a success that brought Milly back for a third time.

Local group Juluka were a hit in March, as was one of the most internationally revered names in jazz, Chick Corea. The success of Corea and his Quintet in April had Ronnie Quibell scrabbling for venues in which to put on extra performances and Chick also played the Civic, and the Cape Town Alhambra. The black American vocal group, The Staple Singers, opened at the Colosseum in May and went on to become the first group of visiting artists to tour not only the main centres of South Africa, but all the Transvaal black townships.

In July, the Colosseum played host to the fabulous choral group Ladysmith Black Mambazo, who were supported by a brilliantly choreographed group of feet-stamping dancers. Black Mambazo would go on to international fame when they accompanied Paul Simon on his 'Graceland' tour. Returnees to the Colosseum included Champion Jack du Pree and Richard Clayderman, while the Quibells also brought first time visitors 'Mighty Clouds of Joy', America's top modern black gospel group plus jazz organist Shirley Scott.

In late January, the first International Piano Competition, the brainchild of Hennie Joubert, was held under the auspices of the University of South Africa. An international panel of distinguished musicians and musicologists came to judge the aspiring artists, who played the elimination rounds at the Old Mutual Hall at UNISA from which six finalists were chosen to perform one movement of a concerto at the State Theatre, accompanied by the PACT Orchestra under Leo Quayle. The first winner was Marc-Andre Hamelin of Canada. Since then, the competition has grown in scope and stature, no longer confined to pianists and requiring two full-length works from the finalists. The competition has remained a highlight of the classical music year.

I personally found the International Piano Competition a refreshing change from rock, soul, pop and gospel, much as I enjoyed those concerts. For five days from 1 February I enjoyed another rare event and a change of scene when the Cape Town Film Festival, run by James Polley, presented a retrospective of John Schlesinger's films at the Oscar cinema (formerly the Hofmeyr Theatre). The distinguished British director's English successes included Sunday, Bloody Sunday and Midnight Cowboy, which won three Academy Awards, including Best Picture - the only X-rated film ever to have done so.

Schlesinger had agreed to the retrospective only on condition that his films, most of which had suffered at the hands of the South African censors, were shown uncut. After much pressure was put on the Publications Control Board, and a face-saving 'membership' arrangement was arrived at for audiences, the demands were met. It fell to me to meet John Schlesinger's plane and escort him to the Festival. I got to know him and found his erudition very stimulating.

While I was in Cape Town, I took the opportunity to see the annual open-air Shakespeare at Maynardville for which the famous National Theatre and West End actor, Robert Stephens, had been imported to play the title role in Othello. Regrettably, though, I felt his performance was more boor than Moor.

Pieter Toerien's Johannesburg year kicked off with what was becoming his annual Agatha Christie. The Unexpected Guest, with Yvonne Banning and Eckard Rabe, opened at the Alhambra in January. It was followed by one of his most successful productions ever, Key for Two, in which Rex Garner and Gordon Mulholland starred opposite Moira Lister. Audiences relished John Chapman and Dave Freeman's farce, which Pieter then presented at the Vaudeville Theatre in London, again starring Moira, while Joyce Blair came from London to replace her.

While thrillers and farces occupied the Alhambra, PACT mounted the world premiere of William Gibson's Monday After the Miracle at the Pretoria State Theatre. The action of this sequel to The Miracle Worker takes place twenty years later and, as directed by François Swart and stunningly performed by Sandra Duncan (Annie Sullivan) and Pamela Gien (the adult Helen Keller), had enormous potential. It also had problems, and, despite several revised versions, Bill Gibson did not crack these. The play, which transferred in April to the Alexander where its author came to see it, failed to live up to its promise.

February at the Market saw the opening of The Dresser by Ronald Harwood, the former Capetonian Ronald Horwitz. Inspired by the late Sir Donald Wolfit, the play deals with the relationship between an old style (and elderly) actor-manager and his dresser. These roles were played with world-class expertise by Michael Atkinson and Michael McCabe, well supported by Shelagh Holliday, Paddy Canavan, Lynne Maree and Simon Swindell in a production by Leonard Schach which had started life at the Baxter Theatre in November 1980. Soon to be filmed with Albert Finney and Tom Courtenay, it was a compulsive evening and a major success, which Leonard then took to Israel where it attracted full houses of English-speaking residents there.

Shelagh Holliday and Lynne Maree were also involved in Leonard's next Johannesburg production for the Market in April, the stage version of Helene Hanff's best-selling memoir, 84 Charing Cross Road. On their return from Israel, Lynne contracted pleurisy, Shelagh fell ill with serious flu, and Leonard had cracked his ribs in a fall! Despite these misfortunes, which left Shelagh only a week to rehearse with her co-star, Eric Flynn, the play opened on time in April and enchanted audiences with its originality, charm and simplicity.

The Market then opened booking for The Company's production of another Alan Ayckbourn success, Bedroom Farce. I noted from the Cape Town Computicket printouts that we were simultaneously booking for a Baxter production of the same play, the kind of wasteful duplication of resources which had so often attended ballet and opera.

In March, Taubie Kushlick persuaded Joe Masiell, a New York actor who had come out in the Seventies for one of her numerous Brel productions, to return with his off-Broadway show called Joe Masiell Not at the Palace. Directed in New York by comedian James Coco, the show's title was an ironic reference to the ambition of every aspiring musical star in America to play New York's famous Palace Theatre. Joe arrived, quite clearly very ill, and was rushed to hospital by Taubie amidst total secrecy. Meanwhile, without ever having seen his show, she auditioned for four girls needed to appear with him. Taubie confided her problems to me, but not a whisper got out to the press, and Masiell somehow made it onto the Market stage as scheduled on 26 March. The run was a nightmare, waiting to see if Joe would get through each performance let alone the season. The show closed on 17 April and Joe returned home, where he died later in the year.

Southern Suns contracted Computicket to handle all sales, including those at the ground, for the Junior World Middleweight boxing championship at the new Ellis Park Rugby Stadium. This would take place on 24 April between South Africa's Charlie Weir and America's Davey Moore. From our point of view this magnificent stadium had one major disadvantage - no form of box office whatsoever had been built anywhere in the grounds. After much brain-breaking, we came up with a makeshift solution whereby we would operate from portable plastic constructions, somewhat like Portakabin toilets. Once in place, these proved hopeless as they had neither drawers, counters, nor lights. We had to think again and ended up installing the terminals in the one office available where we printed the tickets, while a series of audit clerks equipped with walkie-talkies phoned in the orders and rushed back and forth collecting tickets from us and money from the 'cabins'. It was chaos, and we were still there long after the fight was over (Moore knocked out Weir in the fifth), balancing the sales into the small hours. It was a matter of some pride to me that never did I allow an obstacle to prevent us from giving service.

At the other end of the spectrum, April brought the world-famous soprano Monserrat Caballé to sing the lead in Norma for PACT Opera at the Civic. Her vast girth, which rendered her somewhat static on stage and not at all anyone's idea of the High Priestess who sings the glorious 'Casta Diva', was quite forgotten thanks to the bell-like purity of her flawless voice. She also gave a recital, accompanied by Hennie Joubert, at the State Theatre on 4 April, which was one of the musical highlights of my life. It was a truly breath-taking display of musicianship, which earned her a ten-minute standing ovation.

Caballé, somewhat peremptorily, cancelled her final performance on 17 April, leaving 1 000 heartbroken opera lovers to whom Computicket had to give refunds. Two more leading sopranos visited during the year. Elly Ameling came on a countrywide lieder recital tour, accompanied by my old friend Dalton Baldwin, and in July, PACT welcomed Martina Arroyo to the State Theatre to sing the title role in Aida. Visiting Bulgarian tenor Michail Svetlev sang Radames and Susan Braatvedt Amneris in a spectacular production, designed by Anthony Farmer. Long the leading soprano at the Metropolitan in New York, the effervescent Arroyo, though not quite in the same league as Caballe, gave a splendid recital.

During April, it was business as usual at the Andre Huguenet where Pieter presented the guaranteed tonic of an evening of Noel Coward material called Oh Coward. Directed by Freddie Carpenter with Richard Loring, Judy Page and funnyman Ronnie Stevens, its success led to a return season at the Intimate. It was followed at the Huguenet by Lanford Wilson's Fifth of July, with Eckard Rabe, Dorothy Ann Gould and Jonathan Rands in the leads. Audiences remained indifferent to this offering but flooded back for Who Goes Bare in July. Directed by Rex Garner with Tim Plewman and Jonathan Rands, this 'naughty nude' farce was frankly corny but, like critic Garalt MacLiam, the public found it an 'audacious and altogether delightful romp'. It ran for a year.

At the Alhambra, Nikolas Simmonds directed Simon Gray's Quartermaine's Terms, a caustic, literate and sophisticated play, illumined by an impressive and moving lead performance by Richard Haines.

Colin Higgins' award-winning Harold and Maude, a black comedy about the love affair between a teenage boy and an octogenarian who share a passion for funerals, played at the Laager in April. Directed by Tammy Garner, it co-starred Ruth Oppenheim (aged seventy-five at the time) and Tammy's brother, Jeremy Bonell.

PACT Drama continued to ignore the trend towards the frivolous, sticking to their brief as a subsidised company to provide thought-provoking theatre. In May, Roy Sargeant directed Peter Shaffer's beautifully written Shrivings with Joe Stewardson and John Hussey in the leads but local audiences on the whole found it a wordy, didactic bore. Other impressive contributions during the year were a revival of The Lady's Not for Burning, directed by Michael Atkinson who co-starred in it with Sandra Duncan; François Swart's production of Savages, a gripping play by Christopher Hampton with Michael McCabe and Frantz Dobrowsky; The Importance of Being Earnest, Wilde's perennial favourite, directed by John Hussey with Ralph Lawson, Andrew Buckland, Dorothy Ann Could, Gabrielle Lomberg and, as Lady Bracknell, Shelagh Holliday. Aubrey Berg's production of Tennessee Williams' Cat on a Hot Tin Roof co-starred the strikingly beautiful Lena Ferugia as Maggie the Cat, Ron Smerczak as her troubled husband, Brick, and Victor Winding as Big Daddy. This opened at the State Theatre before transferring to the Alexander. The highlight of the Afrikaans season was François Swart's production of Die Leeu in Winter, a translation of James Goldman's The Lion in Winter with Wilna Snyman and Louis van Niekerk.

May and June were outstanding months for PACT Ballet. In May, Galina Panova was the guest artist in La Fille mal gardée. The Russian ballerina and her dancer-choreographer husband Valery, formerly of the Kirov Ballet, were world-famous as the Panovs, who had struggled to get out of Russia. They were refused exit permits in 1972 and Valery was imprisoned on trumped-up charges, while Galina was demoted to the corps de ballet. Released from jail, Valery could get no work and Galina resigned in protest at his treatment. In 1973 Valery went on a hunger strike, and a massive campaign in support of the Panovs was launched in the West. Permits were granted in June 1974, and the couple settled in Tel Aviv, where I was introduced to them by Leonard Schach.

After La Fille mal gardée PACT revived Anna Karenina in which the Panovs danced at special gala performances. The couple stayed on to produce and dance in War and Peace, another work based on Tolstoy, choreographed by Valery and premiered in 1981 in Berlin. PACT became the second company in the world to mount this ambitious work, which opened at the State Theatre on 26 June.

May was also the month when a play written by actor Paul Slabolepszy opened Upstairs at The Market. Winner of the Amstel award, it was called Saturday Night at the Palace and was based on a real-life confrontational incident at a drive-in roadhouse. Impeccably directed by Bobby Heaney with Paul, Bill Flynn and Fats Dibeko in the lead roles, the production gave full rein to the dynamic energy of the writing. Saturday Night at the Palace played to capacity houses, returned to the Market for a second season in October after touring, and then played seasons at the Old Vic and in Ireland and Sweden. A few years later, a film version was made with John Kani in the role created by Fats.

At the Civic from 25 May, Brickhill/Burke brought back their great success I Love My Wife. When the run ended, the production left for Australia where it opened at Her Majesty's Theatre, Sydney, on 22 September. It then returned to the Civic with cast changes. Joining Tobie Cronje and Eddie Eckstein were Bartholomew John, Erica Rogers and Sharon Lynn.

In August, the Civic Theatre celebrated its twentieth birthday with a gala concert. The programme, for which opera star Mimi Coertse and pop star Eve Boswell were the featured artists, was a bit of a rag-bag in its attempt to cater for popular tastes across the spectrum. The Market Theatre was a far more interesting place to be. There, Janice Honeyman's production of Romeo and Juliet (that year's school setwork) was playing, with Robert Whitehead and Vanessa Cooke. This was followed in September by American Mark Medoff's powerful, Tony Award winning play, Children of a Lesser God, in which the central character is a deaf mute. Jean St. Clair (like Phyllis Frelich who created the role and Marlee Matlin who won an Oscar for the film version), similarly afflicted in real life, was imported to play the part opposite Michael Richard. Directed by Philipa Ailion, it was a moving and memorable evening.

In September, Upstairs at the Market provided another memorable evening with Lanford Wilson's Pulitzer Prize-winning play, Talley 's Folly. Director Bobby Heaney again came up trumps, winning awards for himself and actors Dorothy Ann Gould and Anthony Fridjohn.

September at the Intimate brought the opening of a comedy which marked the last joint production from the prolific Toerien/Firth partnership. It was the Baxter Theatre production of Robert Kirby's It's a Boy, directed by Keith Grenville with Dale Cutts, Bo Petersen and James Irwin, and proved a real winner, running for over a year.

For their September season, PACT Opera staged Neels Hansen's production of Turandot with Magdalena Cononovici and Giorgio Lamberti, in tandem with The Barber of Seville in a production by Peter Ebert with leading Italian tenor Piero Capuccilli. October brought a visit from Yvonne Bryceland, by then settled in London where she was enjoying much success at the National Theatre. She came with her one-woman performance of plays by Dario Fo and Franca Rame, but her performances at the University Great Hall attracted virtually no audiences.

On 30 October 1982, Johannesburg acquired a new venue for concerts. The Conrad Linder Auditorium, situated in the grounds of the Johannesburg College of Education, provided a badly needed alternative to the uncomfortable, ill-equipped City Hall and the Wits Great Hall. and was to become the home of the National Symphony Orchestra in 1995.

The Cape Town Symphony Orchestra had joined Computicket in July and, on 15 November, CAPAB and the Nico Malan finally came on board. Theatregoers could now book for programmes in the Cape, the Transvaal and at Sun City, choosing from 145 terminals. To publicise this, I organised photographic sessions at which the leading ladies of three musicals were shown simultaneously buying tickets in different Cities: Aviva Pelham (The King and I) in Cape Town, Joan Brickhill (Mame) in Johannesburg and Jo-Ann Pezzaro (Evita) in Pretoria.

In November, after twelve years as chairman of the SAATM, Michal Grobbelaar relinquished his post. At the AGM I paid tribute to his unswerving leadership and generous guidance and emphasised the debt of gratitude we owed him for his achievements in opening the doors of the corridors of power for us. Des Lindberg was elected the new chairman, retaining the position until the SAATM was disbanded, and he was elected chairman of the newly formed Theatre Managements of South Africa in 1994.

On 7 November, the twenty-fifth anniversary of the SAATM was celebrated at a dinner at the Lindberg's home. A gathering of theatrical personalities and media representatives were there to see honorary life membership bestowed on three pioneers of the theatre - Brian Brooke, Taubie Kushlick and Jim Stodel - each of whom was given a specially commissioned water colour by Philip Bawcombe depicting a theatre of special significance in their careers. For Brian, of course, the Brooke, for Taubie the Standard and for Jim the Colosseum. Among the speeches was an outstandingly warm and witty tribute to Jim Stodel from Percy Baneshik and a highlight of the occasion was a duet sung by Jean Dell and her seventy-six-year-old ukelele-playing father.

In the sporting arena, international tennis enjoyed a high profile in November with the Standard Bank Four Nations cup in which South Africa played against the USA, Spain and Italy in all the major cities. This was followed by the Altech South African Open at Ellis Park, where 55 000 people saw Vitas Gerulaitis win the R40 430 prize.

On 27 November, Mame, Jerome Lawrence's scintillating musical adaptation of Auntie Mame, opened in a joint Civic Theatre Brickhill/Burke production. It was a tremendous production with Joan at her most glamorous and glittering in the flamboyant title role, ably supported by Jean Dell's suitably acidulous Vera Charles, Janice Honeyman's hilarious plain-Jane secretary Agnes Gooch, and Mark Richardson's Patrick Dennis.

Jerry Lawrence, a warm and friendly giant of the American theatre, came out to see the show together with legendary Broadway producer David Merrick. While Jerry was here I gave a supper party for him to which I invited all the available directors and leading actors who had been involved in the Johannesburg productions of his plays. It was a wonderful evening and, in 1984, when Graham and I went to the Los Angeles Olympics, we were Jerry's house guests at his beautiful Malibu home. We arrived to find Louis Burke preparing dinner in Jerry's kitchen.

While Louis cooked, Jerry gave us a conducted tour of his home, which was a treasure house of theatrical memorabilia, including the original staircase from the Broadway production of Mame. Most impressive was the library, which housed Jerry's remarkable collection of twentieth-century plays, many of them valuable first editions or original manuscripts, all of them personally signed. Some years later, when Malibu was swept by fire, this priceless collection was destroyed. Jerry took the loss philosophically and started all over again. We renewed our friendship in 1989 when Brickhill/Burke's musical, Meet Me in St Louis, opened on Broadway.

Throughout 1982 Sun City (bus tickets R14 return) flourished as crowds flocked to see and hear a roster of top-league entertainers. Hazel Feldman's business had been bought out by Sol Kerzner on behalf of Southern Suns and, as full-time general manager of Sun City Entertainment, Hazel persuaded one big name after another to appear at the Superbowl.

Leo Sayer, a 'regular guy' and a lot of fun, returned for a second season, delighting audiences with the live performance of his string of hits. Swedish-born dancer-singer-actress-movie star Ann-Margret (born Ann Margret Olsen, and pronounced Magrett, as she told me), arrived with her husband Roger Smith and a company of forty to repeat her triumphant Las Vegas show. Sensuous and electrifying on stage, in life she was one of the most gracious, considerate, charming and tantrum-free entertainers ever to come to Sun City.

Country-and-Western singer Kenny Rogers was the Superbowl's box-office failure that year. He was a sweet man and an excellent performer, but in all my years in the business I've never known South Africans to respond to the genre except in the case of Jim Reeves and to some extent, the fabulous Dolly Parton. Dolly came in December and was as delightful and funny to meet as her stage and screen persona suggested. She went on a game drive in an open vehicle one night and lost her wig to the branch of a tree. She took the incident with high good humour. Dolly's season, though, was something of a disappointment. On opening night, she wore a dress buttoned up to her neck with a curtain of tassels hiding the famous assets that the male audience had paid to see. Their disappointment was reflected in the subsequent bookings. In addition, as well as the fact that, for the first time in her career, Dolly had to cancel a show because of trouble with her vocal chords. I was back in the refund business ...

Neil Sedaka, charismatic on stage and modest and retiring off, was another highlight of the year, but undoubtedly the most exciting of the male entertainers was Paul Anka, the fabulous singer-songwriter whose hits included 'Diana', 'Jubilation' and 'She's a Lady'. His personal appearances were rare and it was something of a coup for Hazel to persuade him to come. A real lady-killer, he received a deserved standing ovation every night, especially from the women, who adored accepting his invitation to samba down the aisles with him as part of the show.

John Travolta's Grease co-star Olivia Newton-John came for a sold-out season in July, followed by singer- guitarist George Benson, who wowed fans with 'Give Me the Night'. George decided he wanted to give a concert in Cape Town and the entire show was transported there for one night only in August, the month the new extravaganza opened in the Sun City theatre.

Titled Voila!, this was Anthony Farmer's most ambitious and extravagant effort yet, and was so successful that it ran until October 1983. With a million rands' worth of new hydraulic lifts, revolves and other mechanical devices, he really went to town on the effects which included a tank containing twenty tons of water in which aquatic dancers fought a giant octopus. Also featured were an erupting volcano and a huge spaceship occupied by showgirls, which spun out into the auditorium above the heads of the enthralled audience. Marti Caine was the imported star of the show and I got to know her quite well. I learnt that she was a very disciplined person, who concentrated on health and fitness, and it was very sad to learn of her death in 1996 after a long battle with cancer.

The versatility of the Superbowl was demonstrated in October with the Oudemeester Seniors' Tennis Tournament which allowed thousands of fans to relish the delicate skills and impeccable court manners of greats such as Ken Rosewall and Rod Laver. The tennis took place a week before the arrival of the year's biggest powerhouse entertainer, the exciting Liza Minnelli, daughter of the late Judy Garland.

Directly on arrival, an exhausted Liza was whisked to the Landdrost Hotel for a TV interview with Donna Wurzel. Hazel and I were standing with Liza and her then husband, Mark Gero, who said to Donna, 'Liza will not answer questions about her recent miscarriage or about her mother.' The interview began. Donna asked Liza about her recent miscarriage and about her mother. Nothing changes at the SABC ...

Liza Minnelli's visit to Sun City occasioned a three-column article in the International Herald Tribune which commented on the incongruity of the convoys of luxury cars streaming into Bophutatswana, this 'nominally independent homeland', and remarked that, since Sinatra opened the Superbowl, the venue had torn a gaping hole in the curtain of isolation and boycotts of apartheid South Africa.

In ten days, Liza - for whom we took R1 million in one day for the first time - gave her all in eleven generous hour-and-a-half performances, four of which I attended on consecutive nights. She was phenomenal. At the opening night party, she was amazed when I told her I'd seen her first performance off-Broadway (Best Foot Forward in 1963), then her Tony Award-winning Flora the Red Menace and, most recently, The Act on Broadway.

During Liza's season, I was phoned by the office of Israeli statesman Yitzhak Rabin, who was on a fund-raising tour in South Africa. Mr Rabin, I was told, simply had to see Liza's show, and a room at Sun City would also not come amiss. He wanted to come on Friday, the Jewish Sabbath, on the assumption that the Jewish community would be absent, and he could pass unrecognised. Peter Wagner, Sun City's MD, did the necessary and Mr Rabin arrived to find himself recognised by virtually everyone, Jewish and non-Jewish. After the show, he thanked me profusely and said how much he had enjoyed it.

The second Sun City Million Dollar Golf Tournament took place from 2 to 5 December, with the field doubled to ten players. The previous winner, Johnny Miller, faced competition from Ray Floyd, Craig Stadler, Lee Trevino, Lanny Watkins, Seve Ballesteros, Jerry Pate, Jack Nicklaus, Greg Norman and Gary Player.

Celebrity guests included well-known TV actors Peter Falk (Columbo) and Paul-Michael Glaser (Starsky and Hutch), big-screen Dracula Christopher Lee and Cameron Mitchell (High Chaparral). To me the most interesting person there was astronaut Alan Shepard, the first American launched into space, and the fifth man to walk on the moon as a member of the Apollo 14 mission in February 1971. He had been invited to Sun City because he was the first man in history to hit a golf ball on the moon- 'the world's biggest bunker', as he called it.

Yet again the tournament produced a tie, this time between Ray Floyd and Craig Stadler, both on 280. Floyd took the match on the playoff, and $300 000 with it. The final was seen on television. This was the first year we were allowed Sunday afternoon viewing, and the year the SABC opened two more channels - more competition for the sorely pressed theatre managements.
CHAPTER FIFTY

BURYING THE PAST

As the supply of overseas artists to South Africa steadily diminished, so did the value of the rand. This compounded the problems caused by the growing boycott and lack of financially viable venues. Not that those who frequented Sun City for their entertainment would have been aware of the paucity of international entertainers on offer in our major cities.

The first big name to occupy the Superbowl in 1983 was heart-throb Julio Iglesias, a real charmer. Advance booking was massive, especially from female fans, some of whom booked for his Friday opening and both shows on Saturday. When I told this to Julio he seemed genuinely surprised at his popularity here. Britain's multi-talented rock superstar, David Essex, a heart-throb for younger audiences, was on a tour of Southern Africa (repeated in November) and followed Julio at the Superbowl, while British dance group Hot Gossip occupied the Galaxy, where their sexy rhythm and movement kept audiences happy.

Sha Na Na made a spectacularly successful return visit in March-April, while, across another border in Swaziland, fans of the exiled South African, Hugh Masekela descended in droves on the Royal Swazi Hotel to hear him play. Computicket did the booking for this great musician, who was living in Botswana at the time.

Barry Manilow, another creamy-voiced darling of the female customers, who loved his schmaltzy show, was next at Sun City in April. There was not a lot of schmaltz about Manilow in the flesh. He was rigid about not allowing anyone backstage, wouldn't permit eye contact before the show and had his minders instruct the stage crew to turn their backs on him when he was making his entrance.

Sol Kerzner always took his front row seats at the Superbowl via the stage and the opening night of the Manilow show was no exception. As Sol and his party made their way across the stage, Manilow's security guys stopped them, saying 'You can't come through here.' Sol replied, 'Excuse me- I am coming through here.' 'No, you can't. Mr Manilow doesn't allow it.' This exchange continued for a few minutes, audible to the first few rows (I was in the third row and heard every word), and culminated in a by now incensed Kerzner saying, 'You tell Mr Manilow to fuck off. This is my Superbowl, he doesn't have to perform at all, and he can give me back my million dollars!' Sol crossed the stage, Barry performed his show ...

Another major attraction was Linda Ronstadt. She, unfortunately, didn't live up to her soubriquet as America's first lady of rock, but she was an intelligent, friendly and straightforward person who loved the African bush, and who didn't cause a fuss at the sight of an insect.

Amalia Rodrigues, Portugal's most famous fado singer, and Greek nightingale Nana Mouskouri- the only world-famous female vocalist to wear spectacles - brought a touch of something different to the Superbowl. For Amalia's shows, I warned the organisers that they would have to let people in throughout the performance. She had been to South Africa several times and I knew that, because of their long working hours, her Portuguese fans here would turn up whenever they could throughout the evening.

The two women had been preceded by Rod Stewart, advertised as appearing 'absolutely live'. This kind of slogan always intrigued me, since one could hardly contemplate the alternative! At his press conference, the outspoken Stewart was critical of the British Musician's Union stand on performing in South Africa, and he thanked Sun City for making his tour financially possible. He also spoke of his friendship with Elton John, and, to Hazel's despair, let slip the closely guarded secret that Elton would appear at Sun City in the near future. He didn't know just how soon that would be.

No arrangements had actually been finalised with Elton John, whom Hazel had long been trying to persuade to come. Once Rod Stewart had been engaged, she suggested that Elton visit Sun City, surprise his friend, and see the venue for himself with no obligations attached. "Which is exactly what he did, arriving, ostensibly for four days (with fourteen suitcases) and sauntered casually onto the stage during Rod's matinee. Rod freaked out and the audience erupted into total hysteria.

A few days later I joined the two stars at a late-night supper at which somebody casually mentioned that I was the managing director of Computicket. Rod turned on me belligerently and said, 'You stole my money in Australia.' I was horrified that we were still tarnished with the image of Computicket Australia. I managed to calm Rod down and told him the facts of the Harry Miller debacle.

Elton John, one of the sharpest brains in show business, did appear at the Superbowl, playing a totally sold-out season in October 1983. He returned eleven years later to perform in the open air on the hill above the Valley of the Waves.

My life certainly didn't lack variety. Two days after dining with two of the world's top rock stars, I was sitting at 4 p.m., in full evening dress, watching a performance of Wagner's Tristan and Isolde at Bayreuth in Germany. Over the next ten days, I saw eight Wagner operas in the theatre the composer had built, and which is the shrine to his towering achievements. The Wagner festival that year included a new Ring Cycle, known as the 'English' Ring because it was directed by Sir Peter Hall, whose Rhine Maidens sang while swimming nude in a large tank.

Conductors at the Bayreuth season included Daniel Barenboim and Sir George Solti. My brother Sam had given me an introduction to Solti, who invited me to his dressing-room where I found myself talking to former British prime minister Sir Edward Heath and other notables of the English gentry, including the Duke of Kent whose seat was next to mine in the opera house throughout the series. The formidable Solti was courteous, kind and sincere. A few months after this memorable period, the then deputy director of the Bayreuth Festival, Dr Oswald Bauer, gave a series of lectures in South Africa. Wagnerian fans were awed and enthralled by his vast knowledge; he was awed and enthralled by the enthusiasm and hospitality with which he was received.

Pieter Toerien and Shirley Firth's lease on the Intimate Theatre expired on 31 January, coinciding with the final performance of It's a Boy (recast with Charles Comyn, Anne Power and John Hayter, it transferred to the Academy on 2 February and ran until the end of June). Despite protracted negotiations with the Intimate's owners, the YMCA, Toerien/Firth had been unable to come to an agreement to renew the lease in the face of the YMCA's objections to some of the material which had been presented during their tenure. The theatre was leased, instead, to a new group called A Teater, formed under the chairmanship of Civic Theatre executive manager Michal Grobbelaar, who undertook to conform to the YMCA's ethics by presenting plays of strong moral and religious principle during their five-year tenancy.

The first production of this new era was Patrick Mynhardt's The Boy from Bethulie. This entertaining and delightful one-man show was an autobiographical piece recalling Patrick's thirty glorious years as an actor. His legion of loyal fans kept the show running for three months after its February opening. The Intimate was used by other companies as well over those years. Jill Gerard and Joyce Levinsohn's new Children's Theatre company, for example, staged their Easter holiday production, the delightful Tales of Beatrix Potter, at the Intimate and, in May, the Market's highly successful Talley's Folley transferred there.

Meanwhile, Pieter Toerien opened plays on two consecutive nights. On 3 February, A.R. Gurney Jr's The Dining Room transferred from the Baxter in Cape Town to the Alhambra. Directed by Bobby Heaney with Gordon Mulholland, Amanda Strydom, Ralph Lawson and Patricia Sanders, this was an essentially plotless but beguiling series of vignettes about the frequenters of various dining rooms. The following night Towards Zero, Pieter's annual Agatha Christie thriller, opened at the Andre Huguenet after an 'out-of-town tryout' at the Vereeniging Civic Theatre. Charles Hickman's production featured a strong local cast led by visiting British actor John Watts.

It was clear in February that, despite three TV channels, the attractions of Sun City and a growth in cinema audiences (Ster-Kinekor had announced a fifteen per cent increase in attendance and massive revenue at the end of December 1982), the legitimate theatre was very active. In addition to Patrick's show and Pieter's two plays, Children of a Lesser God returned for a second season after a successful tour. The same month, an adaptation of Fielding's Tom Jones opened at the Arena. This boisterous romp further revealed the versatility of director Janice Honeyman, whose production of And Green And Golden, based on the childhood memories of Dylan Thomas, had closed in January, after a three-month run at the Market.

Mid-February brought a treat for discerning and literary-minded theatregoers with Bobby Heaney's production of Virginia Upstairs at the Market. Written by the Irish novelist, playwright and screenwriter Edna O'Brien, it focused on the complex and tormented life of novelist Virginia Woolf and her relationships with her husband Leonard Woolf and with Vita Sackville-West. Sandra Duncan excelled herself in the lead, supported by Robert Whitehead and Yvonne Banning.

February also brought the appointment of prima ballerina Dawn Weller as assistant artistic director of PACT Ballet. In an interview with Adrienne Sichel of The Star, Dawn commented, 'I may be talking from inexperience. I've only worked here for seventeen years with six different managements.'!

PACT's 1983 drama season started at the Pretoria State Theatre on 7 February with a highly entertaining Afrikaans translation of The Taming of the Shrew. Titled Die Vasvat van 'n Feeks, it was directed by William Egan with Marius Weyers (by then artistic director of PACT Drama) as Petruchio and Sandra Prinsloo as Kate. The production came to the Alexander in March.

On 26 February, theatregoers at the Civic for the last performance of Mame watched Joan Brickhill descend a sweeping staircase on a musical stage for what turned out to be the last time. That rare commodity, a true leading lady, Joan had glittered in a succession of memorable musical performances of world class, and at that time was the only actress aside from Ginger Rogers who had played both Mame and Dolly Levi.

But musicals demand enormous stamina, and Joan's health was no longer able to sustain such roles. With her retirement from the musical comedy stage, that aspect of the theatre lost a uniquely versatile and multi-talented performer, loved by audiences and colleagues alike for her infectious personality, her help and her encouragement. Star billing never prevented her from being friend and confidante to even the lowliest members of a company.

Joan did, however, continue to act occasionally, and to direct and choreograph. In 1990, she received a Tony Award nomination for choreographing Louis' production of Meet Me in St Louis on Broadway.

In March, Graham Wright and Beryl Benn promoted a countrywide tour of Johnny Clegg and Juluka, and Ami Artzi took the Colosseum for the Israeli film actor and singing star Yehoram Gaon. I had met Yehoram in Israel and invited him to a lunch with some of our local entertainers. He had a happy tour here and certainly pulled in audiences. Nobody knew he would be the last international artist to play the Colosseum. Sufficient funds for the theatre's survival had not been forthcoming and it was in its death throes. In April, a company called Autumn Harvest sponsored a show there made up of local groups Sakhile, Hotline, and Steve Kekana. It was the last.

I was very dispirited by this low-key finale to a chapter of theatrical history. With the backing of the SAATM I had tried to persuade Jim Stodel to give the theatre a real send-off, suggesting that a fitting swansong could at least raise money for charity, but I had no response. I went around to the theatre and discovered that the chairs had already been removed and the dismantling was under way. There hadn't been a word of protest because nobody knew, and Sanlam couldn't have been less interested in our objections.

The Colosseum was a great loss to the Quibell Brothers, whose familiar imprimatur was largely absent from Johannesburg during the year. In October, however, they took the theatre at the Rand Afrikaans University for a return visit from the popular Irishman, Joe Dolan, who then embarked on a tour of small towns across the country.

PACT Drama presented a visually splendid production of Sheridan's The Rivals, written in 1775. On this occasion the word-mangling Mrs Malaprop was brilliantly played by Pauline Bailey. John Hussey, Wilson Dunster, James White, Pamela Gien and John Lesley were also in this revival, directed by Michael Atkinson, which opened at the State Theatre in March. For PACT at the Alexander in June, Michael then tackled the role of the broken-down music hall performer (famously played in London, on Broadway and in the film by Laurence Olivier) in John Osborne's The Entertainer. He was ably supported by Helen Jessop, Stuart Brown, and two young women who were to enhance their profession - Kate Edwards and Gina Benjamin.

Other drama highlights of PACT's year at the Alexander were William Egan's production of Night of the Iguana in which Eric Flynn, Sandra Duncan, Annabel Linder and Anthony James brought Tennessee Williams' bunch of misfits to life; and Neil Simon's mordantly comic look at life in Manhattan, The Prisoner of Second Avenue. Ken Leach directed Michael McCabe and Erica Rogers in this play which, though ten years old, stood up very well.

At the end of April, the brave and tireless Eghard van der Haven retired as director of PACT. He was succeeded by Gerrit Geertsema, with Dennis Reinecke as deputy. At a farewell concert held at the State Theatre in Eghard's honour, he reviewed the twenty-year history of PACT, revealing that 4.6 million people had attended 20 000 drama performances; opera and musicals had attracted some 2.2 million people and ballet about the same number, while orchestral concerts had drawn more than a million music lovers.

In May PACT Ballet staged two programmes at the Civic under the banner of 'A Giant Festival of Ballet'. In the first programme, the full company danced the colourful oriental fantasy Scheherazade to Rimsky-Korsakov's music; Les Rendezvous; and the South African premiere of Verdi Variations. The second programme staged the world premiere of Camille, the South African premiere of Les Biches, and a third short ballet, Sarabande-Monotones.

In July Joseph Clark, formerly principal dancer with Ballet West in America, made his South African debut in PACT's Swan Lake, dancing The Jester and then Siegfried. Clark established a career here with NAPAC Ballet, then went on to make a double reputation as a singer. Extremely versatile and gifted, he featured as one of the striking Freddy Mercury figures in Geoffrey Sutherland's original production of Queen at the Opera in 1990.

At the Nico Malan in Cape Town in October, CAPAB Ballet paid posthumous tribute to the great choreographer George Balanchine, with productions of two of his famous works, Serenade (created in 1934) and The Four Temperaments (1946). Getting the rights to these ballets was a personal coup for former dancer David Poole, now a Professor, who had succeeded Dulcie Howes as head of CAPAB Ballet.

PACT Opera was flourishing, with Yasuko Hayashi returning to sing Butterfly and Marita Napier guesting as Lady Macbeth opposite Lawrence Folley in Verdi's great Shakespearean opera. The productions played at both the State and Civic theatres during March and April, but in July, much to their ire, Johannesburg opera lovers unable to get to Pretoria, were denied the treat of Verdi's Un Ballo in Maschera. Designed for the huge State Theatre, the production, sung by Gilda Cruz-Romo, Vasile Moldoveanu and Lawrence Folley, was too big to transfer.

In the second half of 1983, Angelo Gobbato's production of Il Trovatore was presented at both theatres. Conducted by Leo Quayle, who was to retire at the end of the year, this popular but vocally very difficult warhorse was tackled by five imported singers, Giorgio Lamberti, Lynn Strow-Piccolo, Antonio Salvadori, Gianfranco Casarini and Julia Marpozan. Alternating with Trovatore was The Marriage of Figaro, cast locally but for the lead, sung by American Richard Fredericks.

Quite early in the year alarm bells rang in the theatre community with Pieter Toerien's declaration that he was ready to leave the country and set up in London. To the relief of everyone, especially the Johannesburg Critic's Circle who wrote to him pleading that he reconsider, Pieter didn't pursue the idea. He announced instead that he would be making alterations to the Alhambra, adding another auditorium.

This plan came to fruition in mid-year. Pieter had invited readers of The Star to suggest a name for the new theatre. The chairman of the Johannesburg Historical Association, Dr Oscar Norwich, commenting on the historical interest of the Doornfontein building, suggested calling it the Van Wouw Theatre, since the famous sculptor Anton van Wouw's house, in the process of being declared a national monument, was next door. Several people suggested Leon Gluckman, but the majority favoured a memorial to Leonard Rayne, a great actor who had contributed so much to Johannesburg early in the century.

Accordingly, the Leonard Rayne Theatre (renamed the Rex Garner in 1994) opened on 18 July 1983, with a dazzling cornucopia of Stephen Sondheim's compositions, Side by Side by Sondheim, featuring Eric Flynn (who also directed), Dianne Chandler and Andre Hattingh. It was an outright winner, despite the fact that the opening night audience, in the best tradition of new theatres, was kept waiting while finishing touches were being put to the paintwork.

Dressing and rehearsal rooms at the Leonard Rayne were named after other famous actors, and I had the satisfaction of officially naming and opening the Leon Gluckman rehearsal room. In November Pieter opened Adam's Bar at the Alhambra. Named in tribute to Adam Leslie, the bar was decorated with several pieces of Leslie memorabilia.

Other highlights of Pieter's year included his production of Noises Off at the Andre Huguenet. Rex Garner, Joy Stewart Spence, Eckard Rabe, Clare Marshall, Ralph Lawson and Kenneth Baker were a finely tuned ensemble, giving full value to the unconstrained hilarity of Michael Frayn's hit play about the backstage vicissitudes during the staging of a farce. Brilliantly clever and, according to Pieter, no exaggeration, it was one of the few plays about theatre to do well and returned for another season in October/November.

Fiona Ramsay, Pauline Bailey and Lena Ferugia gave impressive performances in Pieter's production of Agnes of God, directed by Nikolas Simmonds. This powerful play about the pregnancy of a young nun and the subsequent murder of her baby opened at the Baxter before its season at the Alhambra. In August, Sandra Duncan replaced Fiona Ramsay, who opened at the Andre Huguenet, co-starring with Richard Haines in Tom Stoppard's sophisticated two-hander about love and sex, The Real Thing, also directed by Simmonds.

By August two of the Baxter's own productions were running simultaneously in Johannesburg, a compliment to John Slemon's programming. Directed by Nikolas Simmonds, Julian Mitchell's literate and absorbing play Another Country, about budding spies in an English public school during the 1930s, had opened on 17 June in Cape Town with Sean Taylor, Neil McCarthy, Jeremy Crutchley and John Carson leading the large cast. It opened, with minor cast changes, on 21 July at the Market, beautifully lit by the Baxter's resident lighting designer Pip Marshall, whom I had first encountered at the East Rand Theatre Club.

The other Baxter production, directed by Keith Grenville, was Anyone for Denis? a funny and irreverent send-up of Margaret Thatcher and her consort. John Lesley portrayed an absent-minded, long-suffering Denis Thatcher with charm and warmth; Erica Rogers was killingly funny as the 'Iron Lady', whose mannerisms she had perfected to a 'T'. The play opened at the Academy under the new management of Roger Leclerq and Louis Balkind, Dave Levin (who had taken over when Hymie Udwin emigrated to London) having retired. The new lessees announced their intention to rename the theatre The Siegfried Mynhardt after our most revered actor - which they did in 1984.

In March, the Market had presented Athol Fugard's semi-autobiographical Master Harold ... and the Boys. The play, which deals with the love-hate relationship between Harold, a white schoolboy, and the two black men employed in his mother's Port Elizabeth tea-room, was a moving, sometimes humorous reflection of South African society, and was later garlanded with honours in London and New York. The leads were played by John Kani, Ramolao Makhene and Duart Sylwain.

The opening of Master Harold coincided with the annual Johannesburg Film Society Awards. To accommodate both occasions, our usual dinner was replaced by a cocktail party at which we welcomed our distinguished guest, the Hollywood director-screenwriter Alan J. Pakula (Klute, All the President's Men) who, the following year, added our humble award to the five Oscars he picked up for Sophie's Choice. After the party, he joined Graham, me and Percy Baneshik at the Market for the opening of this impressive production, directed by its author, assisted by American Suzanne Shepherd.

At the Laager in May Janice Honeyman directed Danny Keogh and Vanessa Cooke - two riveting performances - in a play they had written together called This is for Keeps. This literally no-punches-pulled examination of a marriage in which the husband is a wife beater, was almost unbearably painful to watch. It was also very gripping and attracted enough customers to return for a season at the Upstairs in August, in tandem with a blackly comic horror piece, Sweeney Todd. This was adapted and directed by Robert Whitehead and starred Richard Haines and Grethe Fox as the 'Demon Barber' and his wife.

On 14 June, along with other 'dignitaries', I was summoned to the Market by Her Excellency Ms Evita Bezuidenhout, South Africa's ambassador to the independent homeland of Bapetikosweti, alias Pieter-Dirk Uys, whose astonishing creation allowed him to say the unsayable in a public arena through many of our darkest years. The show on this occasion was Farce About Uys, in which its creator was supported by Thoko Ntshinga and Chris Galloway. Garalt MacLiam summed up the enterprise accurately when he said, 'Uys skewers South Africa's rich crop of absurdities when he is not pulverising them with a verbal sledgehammer.'

Pieter-Dirk's next venture, however, was one of his rare failures. A play called The Rise and Fall of the First Empress Bonaparte, it opened on 11 August for PACT at the Alexander, directed by William Egan with Jacqui Singer, Ron Smerczak and Michael McCabe. It was a poorly structured play that brought poor box office receipts, but the announcement of a return run for Farce About Uys in November, had Pieter/Evita's many fans once again queuing at Computicket outlets.

The year gave us two superb one-man shows by other gifted performers. In March, Jeremy Taylor had scored a hat-trick with his third one-man show at the Arena called Stuff- good stuff, serious stuff, bad stuff and funny stuff, and, by popular demand, 'Ag Pleez, Daddy'. In July, Nicholas Ellenbogen received sensational reviews for writing and acting in Precious Remnants, about the fantasies of a detainee in solitary confinement. It was a virtuoso display, directed by Jon Maytham.

The Johannesburg Civic Theatre Association with Brickhill/Burke Productions mounted a new production of A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum, starring Terry Lester and Wilson Dunster. The critics still thought it a riot, but it was no more successful at the box office than it had been in 1964 and closed on 2 July, having limped along for a month since its 1 June opening.

In August, PACT followed in the Market's footsteps with a new production of Die Swerfjare van Poppie Nongena, which opened at the State Theatre, before transferring to the Alexander. Once again Nomsa Nene played the title role (which won her the Computicket award), and the production marked the directorial debut of Marius Weyers who, a year later, directed the English version (again with Nomsa) at the Market.

In July, utilising the hype of Kevin Curren's appearance in the Men's Singles final at Wimbledon, the Sun City Superbowl again played host to tennis. In this Million Dollar tournament, South Africans Curren and Johan Kriek, competed for the prize with Ivan Lendl and Jimmy Connors. Computicket was kept as busy as we could ask for by the crowds who went up and saw Connors win.

Curren would return in November, he and Vita Gerulaitis the main attractions at the Altech International Tennis at Ellis Park. This was one of three big sports events that fell to Computicket to handle, the others being the Benson and Hedges and Nissan cricket finals.

On 16 August, I celebrated the Show Service/Computicket anniversary with a visit to the Laager where Elize Cawood gave a superlative performance as Olive Schreiner. The one-woman play (called Schreiner) which Stephen Gray had based on the life and work of the pioneer writer, was directed by Lucille Gillwald. In September, Barney Simon's production of 'Night Mother was another very powerful evening, aimed at serious theatregoers. A Pulitzer Prize-winning play by Marsha Norman, it starred Janice Honeyman, back on the boards as a young woman planning suicide, and Julie Follansbee as her mother.

With the Leonard Rayne up and running, a second new theatre opened in Johannesburg. Ten years of planning and two years of building finally saw the Wits University Theatre come to fruition at a cost of nearly R5 million, almost double the original estimate. I had been present at the turf-turning when relics from three past theatres, the 20th Century, the Brooke and His Majesty's had been ceremoniously buried in the foundations. The finished building comprised a 370-seat main auditorium, and a small experimental theatre in the basement. Sometime later, a 200-seat outdoor amphitheatre was added.

The theatre, which formed part of a new faculty for the performing arts, had been built primarily as a learning laboratory for Wits students. It first manager was Paul Regenas, who had been running the Grahamstown Festival; the first production, cast with students, was The Comedy of Errors, directed by Ian Steadman, head of the drama department, who later became Dean of the Arts Faculty.

The Wits Theatre came to occupy a significant space in the everchanging landscape of theatrical life, despite a miscalculation in the design of the main auditorium, entered from the back and so steeply raked that less youthful patrons could hardly get down the steps to the front rows. In due course, a rail was installed to make the passage easier.

In August, the new venue played host to Master Harold ... and the Boys, returning for a second successful season after a countrywide tour. This was followed by another professional production, Pieter-Dirk Uys' bilingual Selle ou Storie. Previously banned, it opened with Christine Basson as the central character, an ageing actress.

Taubie Kushlick made it to the State Theatre in September with The Best of Brel. Audiences' appetite for the Brel shows was apparently infinite, and from Pretoria the show moved to the Leonard Rayne, Taubie's only collaboration with Pieter Toerien.

By October, managements' Christmas production plans were well under way, as were expansion plans at Computicket, but we had a few hurdles to overcome before booking could proceed smoothly.
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

HARD TIMES

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From its inception in 1971, Computicket had engaged in a daily struggle with the General Post Office (GPO) who controlled the data lines. These lines provided the link between the computer mainframe and our terminals, and 1983 was the year when the standard of service hit rock bottom. The lines continually went down, particularly those connecting us to our Pretoria and Cape Town branch offices, and on one famous occasion during the year, two technicians, with cavalier disregard, cut our high-speed lines to Cape Town.

These inefficiencies put our by now mammoth operation under tremendous strain, exacerbated by the fact that it took anything up to forty-five minutes for the relevant faults office at the GPO to answer our complaint calls. Thereafter, it sometimes took them several days to rectify the fault. To crown it all, the main post office in Jeppe Street was subject to periodic power failures, during which our entire system ground to a halt.

During September and October 1983, we reported over a hundred line faults, and I requested a meeting with the heads of the relevant department, to which they agreed with great reluctance. In due course, with still no improvement forthcoming, a major row erupted between me and the Regional Director of Telecommunications. We paid large sums for their service, but the GPO seemed unconcerned by the serious effects these problems were having on our business.

The final straw came when, after heavy storms, I was casually informed that the man-hole, under which our lines to the Jeppe Street Post Office were housed was under water. When the water levels rose, I was told, Computicket could consider itself out of business. There was nothing for it: I commandeered a bucket and, watched by astonished members of my staff and a gathering of passers-by, rolled up my trouser legs and shirt sleeves, yanked open the man-hole cover, and began to shovel the water out bucket by painful bucket. Word of this performance must have travelled to the post office, because a team of technicians arrived and asked me to leave while they dealt with the problem!

After this fiasco, the Post Office Data Department finally reacted to my complaints and a series of meetings took place which resulted in improved service. It was, however, some eight years before the Data Department managed to function at full efficiency for our needs. At the beginning of the 1990s, to my fury and disbelief, we were informed that if an engineer was required on a Saturday, we would have to pay vast extra charges for the Saturday service, but with no guarantee that it would be provided. To counter this iniquitous demand, we invested heavily in further back-up modems.

The expansion of Computicket to Natal, planned for some time, had been delayed because the volume of business there had not warranted the intensive capital outlay needed to install the expensive computer systems. On 7 November 1983, we finally opened in the Durban area, Pinetown and Pietermaritzburg, with additional outlets on the North and South Coasts. The total of thirty terminals opened simultaneously, and the traditional ceremonial presentation of the first tickets was made to Professor Elizabeth Sneddon, Natal theatre's driving force, and my old friend, the former opera star Rose Magid.

For the December season, booking opened for a total of twenty-three shows in the Transvaal and neighbouring areas. Three were at Sun City, one in Swaziland, one in Pretoria and eighteen in Johannesburg. Among the latter were Coffee and Cream, a new local phenomenon highlighting the considerable talents of Sam Marais and Natalia da Rocha, at Barbara Thompson's Hillbrow venue, No 58. At No 58 Too, on the second floor of the venue, Brickhill/Burke presented From Oscar with Love, a compilation of Oscar-winning songs directed by Joan with Michael McGovern as the lead performer.

Christmas welcomed The Little Theatre, a small new venue housed in the Carlton Centre in Marshall Street. There, Delia Sainsbury and Keith Galloway provided a musical for children, called Wooglebugs, Witches and Wonderful Things.

On a rather larger scale, Louis Burke directed Barnum for PACT at the Civic. This musical journey through the life of the great showman and famed creator of the three-ring circus was a sumptuous affair, demanding enormous agility and stamina from the lead actor. The English pop star and actor Mark Wynter was imported to fulfil the task, which was so taxing that Paul Ditchfield played three performances a week. The intricate production was a great success and attracted superlatives from the press, as well as from its author, Mark Bramble, who came out from the States and pronounced it 'the most lovely production of Barnum I've ever seen'.

For Christmas at the State Theatre, PACT staged The Merry Widow with Roberta Palmer and Gé Korsten, directed by Neels Hansen.

Upstairs at the Market audiences enjoyed the taste of Forbidden Fruits. An evening of bawdy stories with music, it was publicised as 'Erotic, Exotic and Adult' and was hysterically funny. The censors were predictably suspicious and slapped a 2-18 age ban on Janice Honeyman's production, in which Vanessa Cooke, Jeremy Crutchley, Mike Huff, Danny Keogh, Amanda Strydom and Annelisa Weiland appeared. It ran until May 1984.

Over at Sun City, those in search of something new continued to patronise the IMAX cinema, the first and only in the country until IMAX opened at the BMW Pavilion at Cape Town's Waterfront several years later. Once again, though, the major crowd-pleaser was the Million Dollar Golf, which was played from 1 December for four days.

At the R100-a-plate banquet the night before the tournament, guests were entertained by Liberace, as glittering and flamboyant as ever, who was holding audiences in the palm of his hand for two hours nightly in the Superbowl. I watched his skilful performance on four consecutive evenings. He really was a phenomenon.

The participation of show business celebrities (less well-known this year than previously) in the golf came to an end with this tournament. In future, lovers of the game would see the leading players from the Ladies PGA tour in America competing alongside the men.

The winner of the 1983 contest, played in scorching heat, was Seve Ballesteros, who gave an awesome display, scoring a 274 - five shots ahead of runners-up Nick Faldo and Fuzzy Zoeller. At the prizegiving, I could only marvel at the surroundings. A mere five years had passed since this site was uncultivated bush. Now, as we stood there, we could see the new Cascades Hotel nearing completion

In 1984 the long-rumbling boycott really started to bite, and with all the big venues gone, it was difficult to generate real profits from such performers as did come.

Computicket was now effectively dependent on Sun City for its income, and even there, big attractions were drastically reduced. It was a grave situation since, as a service industry, we were entirely reliant on our clients having a product for us to sell. We were further hampered by the increasing number of clients who made efficient marketing impossible because they would neglect to inform either Computicket or the public of their plans until the show was virtually about to open. The only way we could cut our high operating costs would be to close a number of our terminals, a step I was reluctant to take since our network of outlets was our major strength.

We soldiered on as best we could in the face of an alarming reduction in revenue, starting the year with bookings for the Market, the Superbowl and Pieter Toerien.

South African-born Estelle Kohler returned after a twenty-year absence, during which she had become a star of the Royal Shakespeare Company. She appeared in Shakespeare's Lady, a delightful romp through the Bard compiled and directed by Bill Homewood.

The Superbowl presented a group called Chicago who were badly let down by the sound crew at the theatre who didn't get the balance right. This almost unheard-of occurrence at Sun City contributed to a forgettable evening. They were followed by Andy Gibb, the youngest of the brothers better known as the Bee Gees. The press showed more interest in Andy's recent, highly publicised affair with Dallas star Victoria Principal, than they did in his show. (Andy died of a drug overdose three years later at the age of thirty).

Early January at the Leonard Rayne brought one of the outstanding evenings of theatre that year: Clarence Darrow, in which Richard Haines gave a spellbinding, award-winning performance as the famous American free-thinking lawyer, champion of the underdog. Rex Garner directed the play, which returned twice more and played at the Grahamstown Festival, giving Pieter Toerien a surprise box-office hit.

On 22 January 1984 I was present when Breytie Breytenbach opened the Breytenbach Residential Home in Johannesburg, for needy actors assisted by the Actor's Benevolent Fund. Two days later, this benign and committed father to the acting profession celebrated his eightieth birthday. It was his last public appearance. On 2 March, Breytie, who had steered the theatre into its professional growth through the National Theatre Organization and, in the Transvaal, PACT, died in hospital after a short illness.

On 7 March, the State Theatre held its only ever funeral service to honour this much loved pioneer, who had also managed to command the respect and affection of Pretoria's black community. On the night of his funeral, theatres throughout the country dimmed their lights in tribute. I had lost a valued friend, whom I had known for forty years.

The veteran English director Charles Hickman, who had regularly come out to stage Pieter Toerien's Agatha Christie plays, died in 1983. Pieter brought another, younger, Englishman, Kim Grant to direct the 1984 Christie, The Hollow, with a cast led by Shelagh Holliday at the Andre Huguenet in February. At the Alhambra the same month, Pieter presented Ray Cooney's rumbustious farce, Run for Your Wife, direct from a sold-out season in Cape Town. Cooney's material was familiar to regulars at the Academy and this production, starring Rex Garner and Michael Richard, began a new and happy association between Pieter and Cooney. This achingly funny farce enjoyed a long and profitable run and was one of the few real success stories in a lean year.

A new auditorium called the Momentum Theatre opened at the State Theatre complex in March, and PACT announced that they would use it as a venue for experimental work. The first production, Graffiti 84, to which Robert Kirby contributed, dealt in protest and commentary about politics, love and war, and was devised in Afrikaans, English, Sotho and Zulu. Meanwhile, the company staged Jerome Lawrence and Robert E. Lee's The Night Thoreau Spent in Jail at the Alexander in February. Starring Neil McCarthy as Thoreau, it was a pertinent play marred by Norman Coombes' uneven direction.

Audiences had a better time at the Market where Michael Atkinson gave a virtuoso performance in Beecham, a play about the famous (and infamous) conductor, Sir Thomas, written by Caryl Brahms and Ned Sherrin. It was presented in association with the Company of Four, one of whom, Leonard Schach, directed it.

February brought a new extravaganza to the Sun City theatre. Called Stars \- one of the advertising slogans read 'When you see Stars you'll know why they're called Heavenly Bodies'! - I felt that it was the least successful spectacular to date from the team of Tony Farmer, Nick Navarro and Adolpho Waitzman. Perhaps the team was affected by the underlying gloom created by the growing boycott. The line-up for the Superbowl tells the story: KC and the Sunshine Band, the Australian group Air Supply, the Bellamy Brothers and Chris Rea on a double bill, and a return visit from Julio Iglesias.

That said, the Superbowl year was illumined by three major attractions. In March superstar Shirley Bassey repeated the excitement and success of her previous visit and, at Easter, Boney M, who had often been announced for South Africa but had never materialised, finally came for Sun City. This German-based Eurodisco group had been created by producer Frank Farian to cash in on the popular European dance sound that had been pioneered by Giorgio Moroder among others. They arrived with their fifteen-piece steel band in April and treated audiences to hits such as 'The Rivers of Babylon' and 'Daddy Cool' which, by the end of the 1970s, had them rivalling Abba as the decade's most successful group in the UK.

The major event of the light entertainment year, however, was the October engagement of one of the world's leading rock groups Queen, with their undisputed star composer-performer, Freddy Mercury. Booking for Queen opened on 29 August 1984, a day I will never forget. Phones were already ringing non-stop when I arrived at my office at 7 a.m. and the staff, who had been summoned to an earlier than usual start countrywide in anticipation of heavy demand, could barely cope. All our operators phoned in to report the build-up of unbelievably long queues before we opened sales at 8.30.

At 8.50 a.m. I had a furious Sol Kerzner on the phone screaming and shouting at me because the morning's papers carried no advertising for Queen. I told him that the omission had been deliberate because I anticipated being sold out almost before the ads would have appeared. Sol chose not to hear and continued his tirade, eventually asking me how much money we had taken. The verbal onslaught turned to stunned silence when I told him we were taking R16 000 per minute and had grossed R320 000 in the first twenty minutes. I telephoned Sol's PA, Maeve, at regular intervals over the next couple of hours, and by noon we were able to announce that all 63 000 seats had been sold in advance.

The opening performance of Queen on 5 October was electrifying. The downstairs seats in the Superbowl had been removed and Freddy Mercury, the supreme showman, sensual and magnificent, had a sea of five thousand bodies swaying to his music and cheering the roof off. Then, halfway through the third performance on 7 October, disaster struck. The tannoy went dead, and Freddy walked off to tell Hazel he had lost his voice. Hazel, herself practically speechless at the news, had to go into her 'refund' routine; worse, I had to go into mine. On doctor's orders, Freddy could only play alternate days for the rest of his season, so several entire performances had to be refunded.

Computicket was the scene of much mayhem, with customers who had bought tickets in one place, say, Somerset West, turning up somewhere else, like Krugersdorp to get their money back. Eventually, we decided that ticket-holders would either have to come to one of our head offices or send their tickets back by post. Two weeks of queues and cheque-signing ensued, involving the return of some R650 000. Mine is not the only memory on which the experience is etched forever. When I was in Australia eleven years later, somebody came up to me in a Melbourne street and said, with an amused smirk, 'Are you still refunding money for Queen, because I've still got my tickets'!

There was virtually no competition for Sun City within South Africa. In February the Quibells brought back Clarence Carter (accompanied by his wife who turned out to be South African) for a fourth visit. In their desperation for a venue, they presented him at the appalling Wembley Ice Rink. In October, more successfully, Australian entertainer Rolf Harris came back to South Africa for the Qui bells, playing at the Civic and State theatres and at the Three Arts in Cape Town. And that was about the size of it for the year.

Serious music fared rather better. Opera was, as always, given its full due by the performing arts councils in each province. PACT's first season for 1984 opened on 30 March with Neels Hansen's production of Nabucco at the Civic, playing in repertoire with Richard Strauss' Salome, directed by Helge Thoma, imported from Europe, and sung by the American Kathryn Montgomery with Lawrence Folley. The September season brought a production (by Michael Rennison) of a seldom performed opera, Giordano's Andrea Chénier with Giorgio Lamberti, Maria Chiara and Giorgio Zancanaro, and Donizetti's Lucia di Lammermoor, with Luciana Serra in the title role, Alberto Cupido and Christiaan du Plessis. On the opening night at the State Theatre Serra, though in glorious voice, was hobbling about in evident discomfort. It was later revealed that at the dress rehearsal she had tripped during the mad scene and twisted her ankle badly. What we also didn't know was that Du Plessis, curiously missing from the curtain calls, had been rushed, haemorrhaging, to hospital, Cupido was being treated for blocked sinuses and Rouel Beukes, who sang Raimondo, was in the grip of 'flu. It was a miracle that the performance went on at all.

The great tenor Nicolai Gedda toured South Africa during the year, and the Cape classical music scene had an extra fillip with a summer concert series at the Oude Libertas Amphitheatre in Stellenbosch. I could see from the booking patterns that the twilight concerts at five thirty in the afternoon, at which audiences were encouraged to enjoy a picnic on the lawns, were among the most popular events. In the glorious setting of the Stellenbosch amphitheatre, I heard the Russian-born violinist Nina Beilina, who had visited many times before for Musica Viva, playing with the Cape Town Symphony Orchestra for conductor Louis Fracutemaux.

It was a significant year for PACT Ballet, who celebrated their twenty-first anniversary in 1984. In June, Dawn Weller, Linda Smit and Martin Raistrick were guest performers at the Balletomanes Tenth anniversary gala at the Nico Malan in Cape Town, and when the Friends of the Ballet in Johannesburg celebrated their tenth anniversary, CAPAB Ballet sent a strong contingent to the State Theatre. In July, PACT gave the world premiere of Ronald Hynd's three-act comic ballet, The Devil to Pay, at the Civic, while the gala programme to celebrate the company's coming of age included Vespri, Act II of Swan Lake and excerpts from Romeo and Juliet, all danced by the stars of PACT.

The ongoing Actor's Equity debate in Britain as to whether British artists should be allowed to work in South Africa was escalating. It was the subject of an editorial in The Stage, in which the editor, while acknowledging that theatre in South Africa was a minority interest, wrote that it none the less 'does seem the case that theatre is in the forefront of the fight against apartheid' and that 'if we believe in the theatre as a way of changing thoughts and attitudes, we should not bury our heads in the sand when it comes to South Africa'. Paul Slabolepszy's Saturday Night at the Palace was running at the Old Vic at the time and was the trigger for this article, which further observed that the theatre was leading the way to integration and that South African theatre 'paradoxically, has found its feet and is developing along indigenous lines'.

Certainly, it was ironic to note that, while the traffic to our shores had been severely curtailed, Britain (and elsewhere), thanks largely to the work of the Market Theatre, was seeing more South African theatre than ever before. However, when the issue of whether or not to lift the ban was put to the vote, apathy ruled and an abysmally small response from Equity members ensured the continuation of the status quo.

While Saturday Night at the Palace was opening in London, Athol Fugard's The Road to Mecca was having its world premiere at the prestigious Yale Repertory Theatre in New Haven, Connecticut. In due course it, too, would play well-received seasons in London and New York, but not until after its season at the Market in November. Yvonne Bryceland played the widow cast out by a Karoo community, Elize Cawood was the young schoolteacher who befriends her, and Louis van Niekerk the dominee who wants to have her committed to an institution. The play is set in Nieu Bethesda, where Athol (who played the dominee in the film version with Yvonne and Kathy Bates) later acquired two homes.

Upstairs at the Market in May the Company presented Black Dog Inj'emnyama, a work created by Barney Simon and acted by an ensemble company. Praised by Michael Venables as 'one of the most stunning, moving and important pieces of South African theatre I have ever had the privilege of seeing', it went on to acclaim at the Edinburgh Festival.

For the Alexander in May, I wrote and placed advertising that read, 'Previously banned, the highly controversial theatrical event ... ' The event was a revival of Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf now, ironically, staged by PACT, the company funded by the government which had banned Taubie Kushlick's production. I was struck by the irony; Taubie was beside herself. William Egan's production was played by Michael McCabe (the star performance in my view) and Jacqui Singer as George and Martha, with Andrew Buckland and Carol-Ann Kelleher as the young couple. For TRUK at the Alexander, Bobby Heaney directed My Seuns, a translation of Arthur Miller's powerful drama of betrayal and familial tragedy, All My Sons. Louis van Niekerk was the father, Johan Engelbrecht the son and Lida Botha the mother.

In July Graham and I had the great excitement of going to Los Angeles for the Olympic Games, an unforgettable experience. Hazel and Sam Feldman were there, too, with friends, and I invited them to dine with us at Spargo's, the Hollywood restaurant where the Oscar parties are held. I simply rang up and booked a table, which amazed American friends who told me that it was the most snobbish and exclusive of establishments. It was certainly very starry. The place was crowded with movie stars and buzzing with atmosphere. I was in my seventh heaven as I stood at the bar getting drinks. As I made my way to the table with the drinks precariously balanced, I was so busy looking around that I tripped, spilling them all over one of America's top sportsmen who was commentating on the Games. His name was O.J. Simpson ...

During my absence in LA, Computicket handled the Children's Theatre production of Jack and the Beanstalk at the Intimate with Sue Kelly Christie, Michael Brunner, Drummond Marais and Kevin Feather. At the Civic, Basil Rubin presented Mummenschanz, a brilliant trio of Swiss mime and mask artists who had held New York enthralled for three years.

In August, a new series of awards for excellence in the performing arts was announced. Set up by the culture conscious Brian Benfield, head of AA Mutual Life which sponsored them, with Phillip Stein appointed full time organiser, they would be known as the AA Vita Awards. Focusing initially on the PWV area only, the scheme was expanded annually so that, by the end of the decade, the whole country was able to compete for the many generous awards across the whole spectrum of the live arts, with the Dance Umbrella added in 1989/90.

In 1992, AA Life had to withdraw its sponsorship, which passed to IGI Life briefly, then, in December 1993, to First National Bank. The FNB Vita Awards are given at an annual ceremony in Johannesburg, an occasion which has become a focal point for the theatrical profession, particularly since the demise of the DALRO Awards in 1995.

In the midst of these events, I lost another special friend. Dame Flora Robson, a great lady and a magnificent actress, whom I had continued to visit regularly in England, died at the age of eighty-two.

The second half of Pieter Toerien's year included two productions by visiting English director Hugh Wooldridge - a murder mystery by Francis Durbridge called House Guest, and Mastrosimone's Extremities. Starring Lena Ferugia and Michael Richard, this last was a sombre play, graphically depicting the horror of rape. Rex Garner directed himself, with Fiona Ramsay, Jonathan Rands and Neville Thomas in In Praise of Rattigan, a tribute to one of England's most successful playwrights; Robert Whitehead directed Richard Haines and Anneline Kriel (her stage debut) in Robert Kirby's The Wrong Time of Year; and audiences fell in love with the man-eating plant Audrey II in Howard Ashman and Alan Menken's delightful and unusual musical comedy Little Shop of Horrors. Eddie Eckstein and Andre Hattingh starred for director Constance Grappo.

More excellent work came to Johannesburg from the Baxter Theatre. The Leonard Rayne hosted Michael Atkinson, sparkling as Oscar Wilde, in The Importance of Being Oscar, and Aleksei Arbuzov's Old-World, a charming story of romance between two elderly people in a Russian sanatorium. Veteran actress Zoe Randall starred with John Carson for director Rosalie van der Gucht. Graham Wright brought the Baxter's production of Steven Berkoff's Decadence to the Wits Theatre after its season at the Durban Alhambra. It was directed by Ron Smerczak with Bo Petersen and Jon Maytham (replacing Fiona Ramsay and Henry Goodman who had played the roles in Cape Town). This time the censors slapped on a 2-21 age restriction. Durban's talents were also seen in Johannesburg when NAPAC's production of Snoopy was presented, in association with CT Productions (Tim Plewman and Cathy Cota), at the Space Frame theatre in the College of Education complex. Directed by Geoffrey Sutherland, it starred Tim, Cathy, and Mark Richardson.

Roger Leclercq had spent a lot of money installing new equipment in the Siegfried Mynhardt Theatre (the old Academy) and presented Jeremy Taylor's Stuffin December. However, during the run, the theatre was gutted by fire and the show was transferred, first to the next-door restaurant then to the Intimate. Roger consulted me as to whether he should rebuild the theatre as it was or create a theatre restaurant. I suggested he discuss this with Tony Farmer, and the upshot was the La Parisienne, an intimate dinner theatre designed by Tony (with a commemorative plaque on the front of the building to keep Siegfried Mynhardt's name alive), which opened with a show he conceived and directed called Oh! La! La!

The Christmas season was enlivened by two musicals which brought much-needed revenue to PACT. At the State Theatre, a new production of Showboat directed by Anthony Farmer starred Bess Arlene with two alternating Gaylord Ravenals, Ed Barrett and Pieter Niemann, and, to everyone's relief, black South African Mayo Miza as Joe. At the Civic, Louis Burke directed The King and I with Joe Stewardson and Judy Page.

As usual, Sun City was the place to be in December when the World and Junior World Heavyweight Championships were staged. Gerrie Coetzee, defending the title he had won in September 1983, was knocked out in the eighth round by America's Greg Page. South African junior Piet Crous, however, beat Puerto Rican Ossie Ocasio.

The Million Dollar Banquet was held on 6 December, with Anthony Newley providing the cabaret. Celebrity guests included Dallas stars Priscilla Presley, Morgan Fairchild and Barbara Carrera, as well as Sol Kerzner's special personal guests, the Princesses Caroline and Stephanie of Monaco, with Stephano Casighiri. Stephanie caused a media riot when she sunbathed topless at the pool.

The tournament, which began on 8 December and formed part of Sun City's fifth birthday celebrations, was won for the second year in succession by Seve Ballesteros, competing with Nick Faldo, Lee Trevino, Ray Floyd, Tom Kite, Ben Crenshaw, Gary Player, Greg Norman, Denis Watson and Isao Aoki. The only Japanese golfer ever to have played in Southern Africa, Aoki defied much pressure and many threats to take part, and was virtually ostracised on his return to Japan, where the government made its displeasure felt.

The glamour of golf-playing stars was replaced by the glamour of the leading players of the Ladies' Professional Golf Association (LPGA) tour. Kathy Whitworth won against Donna Caponi, South African-born Sally Little, Beth Daniel and Laura Cole.

In November, Sol Kerzner, for his company Kersaf, bought a fifty per cent interest in Satbel, the owners of Ster-Kinekor and Computicket, and Satbel's managing director, Mr J.J.T. Marais, took early retirement, but not before instructing me to negotiate with Metro cinemas. My long battle with the board over this issue ended and Computicket entered a new year with all the cinema chains on the system.
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

FINDING A VOICE

Ninety eighty-five marked the beginning of my last ten years as managing director of Computicket. I would weather fundamental changes in the structure and management of the company I had founded, and the country would undergo a vast political transformation, but the pattern of the leisure industry with which I had been involved for some forty years was essentially set.

There would be few major developments during my remaining tenure, which began against a backdrop of escalating international boycott. Despite the desegregation of our theatres, artists abroad increasingly absented themselves from our shores as part of a wider protest against the apartheid regime. At the beginning of 1985, the United Nations register of performers who had played in South Africa listed 388 names. In the United States, Harry Belafonte was in the forefront of Artists Against Apartheid, whose active protest was supported by high-profile entertainers. In Britain, the crème de la crème of the acting profession would have no truck with us. The wisdom of the cultural boycott divided opinion but, for better or worse, it had arrived to stay until the apartheid regime finally crumbled.

From Computicket's point of view, the boycott was disastrous. Sun City was feeling the pinch, which was very bad for business; any political upheaval or crisis at home had an immediate negative effect on attendances, as I could see from the daily booking figures, and increased emigration was depleting our traditional audiences.

The atmosphere of gloom and uncertainty was further deepened by the declaration of a State of Emergency in August of 1985, and the closure of The Rand Daily Mail. For eighty-three years it was English speaking Johannesburg's morning paper and a significant voice of political protest. Unfortunately, the paper's political stance increasingly alienated the general readership, particularly political conservatives, over the years and, under pressure from the government, its management closed it, citing financial reasons for doing so.

On the positive side, the growing climate of political discontent and the dearth of plays and performers from abroad led to an explosion of rich indigenous creativity, resulting in theatre which expressed and reflected our concerns and conditions. Commonly referred to as protest theatre, not all the plays and musicals which arose from this movement were directly protest pieces, and it might have been more accurate to talk of 'social conscience' theatre. The spectrum was wide, ranging from the angry to the reflective, from musicals in celebration of township life to satire targeted on the government. Ironically, many of these works travelled abroad to universal acclaim, giving our local theatre its highest ever international profile. At the forefront of these achievements was work that originated at the Market Theatre, which would soon become worId famous. The Market was also the chief Johannesburg venue for comparable efforts from the Baxter in Cape Town.

A handful of writers and directors had been in the vanguard of this movement for some years, notably Athol Fugard and Barney Simon and, within the townships particularly, the formidable Gibson Kente had been at it for considerably longer.

If some of the 'protest' plays overtly questioned the nature of our society and others made their point by merely reflecting it, some put across a message by means of controversial multi-racial casting. Prominent among these was Bobby Heaney's production of Miss Julie which originated at the Baxter and came to the Market in February 1985. Strindberg's classic drama of class barriers co-starred Sandra Prinsloo in the title role, opposite John Kani as the servant with whom she becomes embroiled in a highly charged erotic game. The pairing brought a barrage of attacks by the right-wing press and poisonous (usually anonymous) letters and telegrams to the actors. John Slemon, replying to an editorial in Die Afrikaner, condemned the 'sick and verkrampte minds' behind the outrage. The Publications Control Board allowed the production with a 2-16 age restriction, and it went from the Market to the Edinburgh Festival.

Several pioneering plays had reruns during 1985 and the subsequent few years, beginning with the return of Woza Albert! to the Market's main house in January. Afrikaans voices also began to question the status quo, notably in several plays that dealt with the problems of army conscription. The first was Deon Opperman's Môre is 'n Lang Dag, played Upstairs at the Market in January (with Christo Leech's Die Spinner following late-night), while Robin Levetan's Skyf, starring Sean Taylor, came from the Baxter to the Upstairs in May and was a dynamic addition to this genre.

The Market pulsated with exciting new works throughout 1985. Three major protest plays opened and went on to worldwide exposure and success. Asinamali opened at the Laager in May. This vibrant and aggressive pastiche of township life with music and dance was written and directed by Mbongeni Ngema, co-author of Woza Albert! Ngema won three Vita Awards for Asinamali, which went on a world tour, picked up a Tony nomination for direction, the Los Angeles Drama Critics Award, and returned to the Market main house in December.

In August, Born in the RSA opened at the Upstairs. This riveting call to the South African conscience had been written collaboratively by its director, Barney Simon, and his large cast which included Fiona Ramsay, Vanessa Cooke, Timmy Kwebulana, Gcina Mhlophe, Terry Norton, Thoko Ntshinga and Neil McCarthy. It, too, earned a transfer to the main theatre.

Mbongeni Ngema's Woza Albert! collaborator, Percy Mtwa, wrote and directed Bopha, which examined the dilemma of a black policeman in relation to his family and his community. Presented jointly by the Market and the Earth Players, it opened at the Laager in October and struck audiences with the force of a thunderbolt. It was followed by the docu-drama, The Biko Inquest, a horrifying exposé created from the actual records of the Steve Biko case by John Blair and Norman Fenton and directed by Durban-based Saira Essa.

In a lighter vein, the African music group Amampondo had opened in June. Using traditional instruments, their music celebrated the sounds and rhythms of Africa and attracted enough customers for an extended season; and in September, Paul Slabolepszy's double bill Under the Oak and Under the Hill, directed by Frantz Dobrowsky and the author, looked at relationships in the context of cricket and rugby respectively.

The indigenous explosion continued in 1986, the tenth year of the Market Theatre, whose programme began with another revival of Fugard's The Island, in which John Kani and Winston Ntshona repeated their world-famous performances. January at the Laager brought Hamba Dompas, a play about the pass laws written by Peter Se-Puma and directed by Nomsa Nene with the author and John Ledwaba. It was followed in February by Gcina Mhlope's Have You Seen Zandile? in which Gcina acted with Thembi Mtshali under Maralin Vanrenen's direction. This painful play, about a black child forced to live with strangers in an alien environment, was one of many productions to make an impact in Europe.

Also, in February, the Company, in collaboration with Malcolm Purkey's non-racial Junction Avenue Theatre Company (founded in 1976 and dedicated to exploring the past and the social order of which they were a part), presented Sophiatown. Created by the cast in workshop and directed by Purkey, this play with music focused on the vibrancy and pathos of township life and the relationships of the characters to a white Jewish girl (played by Minky Schlesinger) who is living among them. This tribute to a township which, under the Group Areas Act became the white suburb known, ironically, as Triomf, was a monumental success. Having begun at the Upstairs, it returned to the main house time and again, toured extensively abroad, and was last revived in 1994.

April at the Upstairs saw The Bijers Sunbird by Robert Kirby, who directed James Mthoba and Sean Taylor as prisoners in detention. This play was picketed by anti-apartheid protesters when it opened in London. Reza de Wet's Diepe Grond opened at the Upstairs in June. Directed by Lucille Gillwald with Dawid Minnaar, Susan Coetzer, Gys de Villiers and Doris Simula, and described (by critic Adrienne Sichel) as 'a compulsively entertaining allegorical theatrical thriller ... a gem', it won a mass of awards.

Pieter-Dirk Uys was back at the Market in September, on brilliant form with Beyond the Rubicon, extracting humour from P.W. Botha's famous speech in a year which, in June, had seen the reimposition of the State of Emergency.

Paul Slabolepszy's Making Like America, opened in December. Directed by Bobby Heaney, with Paul, Marius Weyers, Nicky Rebelo and Lida Meiring, its theme was the effect of American culture on the South African way of life. Also in December, the Vusisizwe Players from Cape Town, under the direction of Phyllis Klotz were presented at the Market in You Strike the Woman, You Strike the Rock. Thobeka Maqutyana, Nomvula Qosha and Poppy Tsira gave marvellous performances in this workshopped play which dealt with township life from the point of view of black women. An immensely powerful piece of realism, this, too, earned overseas acclaim, touring Europe and North America for two years after a return season at the Market in early 1987.

The Market Theatre, however, was not the only venue where indigenous or politically relevant work was seen. The single most profitable play of the year was a CAPAB production at the Nico Malan of Fiela se Kind, a drama from the novel by Dalene Matthee. Starring Shaleen Surtie-Richards, it focused on the fate of a white child given away to a coloured family, and later reclaimed by its parents through a battle in the courts. The Cape's coloured population flocked to the Nico in unprecedented numbers, and the play was later filmed. Downstairs at the Wits Theatre in March, the company Soyikwa presented Vuka, written and directed by Matsemela Manaka, already seen at the Market and at the previous year's Edinburgh Festival.

In April, a year before the official opening of the Windybrow complex in Pietersen Street, Hillbrow, PACT launched its first season of plays in the Canary Room (so called because of its yellow walls), soon renamed the Dalro Theatre. The Windybrow, a large and gracious house built in 1896 by engineer and pioneering educationist Theodore Reunert, had seen several incarnations - troop mess during the Boer War, private boarding house - before it was bought by the Province as a residence for student nurses at the adjoining B.G. Alexander College.

Declared a national monument in 1974, the building was saved from demolition but not disrepair until the Province gave it to PACT. Beautifully converted under the watchful eye of the National Monument Commission, it became PACT's Johannesburg headquarters and, given its Hillbrow location, a fitting venue for the promotion of black experimental theatre.

The Windybrow opened with Ulovane Jive, a workshop piece put together by a cast that included Aletta Bezuidenhout, Nomhle Nkonyeni, Clare Stopford, Nandi Nyembe and Jacqui Singer. This was followed by Tjaart Potgieter's production of Mitzi Booysen's The Time of the Hyena with Elize Cawood, Pierre Knoesen and Nomhle Nkonyeni. Mitzi Booysen was married to the German director Dieter Reible, who injected a new stylistic vision into the PACT repertoire with his productions of Shakespearean and European works.

Also, at the Windybrow, a new satirist/ comedian, Casper de Vries, wrote, composed and directed a bilingual cabaret about current events called Hello South Africa/Hallo Suid-Afrika and appeared in it with Johan Engelbrecht, Elsabe Zietsman, June van Merch and Didi Kriel.

While indigenous theatre proliferated, and overseas companies stayed away, the performing arts councils, Pieter Toerien, Hazel Feldman at Sun City, and a handful of others soldiered on as best they could in providing traditional entertainment and European culture. The theatre was very active, despite the difficulties managements were experiencing. Johannesburg's children were well catered for by Joyce Levinsohn and Jill Gerard. At the Intimate, they staged the ever magical The Wizard of Oz and Aladdin and, displaying unusual imagination, mounted an adaptation of Rudyard Kipling's Just So Stories in the old elephant house at the Johannesburg Zoo.

Ronnie Quibell, returning from an overseas trip in 1985, reported in an interview on the hostility with which he had met. What with inflation and the introduction of a fourth television channel, the outlook for the few remaining large venues such as the Three Arts Theatre in Cape Town was poor. Indeed, it was not until February 1986 that South Africa had a visiting company - the Batsheva Dance Company from Israel. Basil Rubin brought them out, and audiences at the Civic enjoyed their dazzling array of choreographic styles.

Hazel Feldman announced that the Superbowl would be kept alive and kicking despite the chill from overseas. She had plans to make better use of local talent, and possibly increase the popular Ice Skating Championships to twice a year. Meanwhile, boxing tournaments and other shows were attracting the crowds. At Sun City, said Hazel with a brave show of optimism, the boycott was seen as 'a temporary hiatus'.

In reality, Sun City was pretty much in the doldrums. The theatre was showing another extravaganza (Fun 'n' Games) but, significantly, the Superbowl stood empty over the 1985 holiday season. Indeed, the Superbowl had suffered a sudden and severe decline from light entertainment mecca to a sporadic attraction which, during the year, welcomed a return visit from Rod Stewart, suffered a cancellation (with accompanying refunds) by British rock group The Kinks, and had to make do with ageing former star of MGM musicals and popular Dallas actor Howard Keel, a charmer who at least drew the blue-rinse brigade.

Between 1985 and 1987, the Superbowl presented local groups such as Ella Mental, and British rock groups (The Troggs, Marmalade) who had seen better days. In 1986, the annual Indoor Horse Show was moved there from Johannesburg, and Hazel instituted shows such as Laugh-Aid (using local comedians) and Wheel of Fortune, with R100 000 cash prizes available only to those winning ticket holders who were actually present in the audience. Among the rare imports was a magician show called Spellbound, accurately described as 'a spectacle of illusions' which, deservedly, did attract large audiences.

The fifth Million Dollar Golf tournament at Sun City was largely unaffected by boycott in 1985. Newcomers to the field included the German champion Bernard Langer, who won with a 278. Patti Rizzo won the Ladies' tournament (R65 000 as against the men's R300 000), beating Muffin Spencer-Devlin in a play-off. The entertainer at the banquet was Danny 'Moon River' Williams, his career on the slide and a far cry from previous entertainers at this occasion. By 1986, however, Sam Feldman, was struggling to assemble his line-up for the golf. With the US State Department voicing disapproval, the only American to compete in 1986 (won by Zimbabwe's Mark McNulty) was Lanny Wadkins.

The performing arts councils carried on fulfilling their brief in the face of a shrinking public. In 1985, PACT drama staged David Mamet's Pulitzer prize-winning Glengarry Glen Ross at the Alexander. Bobby Heaney directed Bill Flynn, Wilson Dunster, Anthony Fridjohn and Dale Cutts as the real estate salesmen whose strong language subjected the play to a 2-18 age restriction. In May, Marius Weyers played Stanley Kowalski opposite Brumilda van Rensburg's Blanche in Bobby Heaney's production of Die Trem se Naam: Begeerte (A Streetcar Named Desire) for TRUK; Bobby also directed Brian Friel's Translations, dealing with the disrespect for the Irish language by British cartographers. Michael Richard and Patrick Mynhardt headed the cast.

This heavyweight approach to drama continued in 1986. Terrence Shank's adaptation and direction of Steinbeck's Pulitzer Prize-winning novel The Grapes of Wrath made for an evening of considerable power. It was played by Michael McCabe, Erica Rogers, Sean Taylor and James Borthwick. After playing to record-breaking houses at Grahamstown and success in Cape Town, Wild Honey came to the Alexander in August. Adapted by Michael Frayn from Chekhov's comedy, the play was directed by Bobby Heaney, with Michael Richard and Jana Cilliers starring. And in October, PACT staged Joe Orton's Loot, an exhilaratingly offensive black comedy in which Terrence Shank directed Michael McCabe, James Borthwick, Michael Richard and Aletta Bezuidenhout.

Orton was flavour of the month with Entertaining Mr Sloane playing Upstairs at the Market at the same time. Directed by Robert Whitehead and starring Christine le Brocq, Anthony James, Kevin Smith and Danny Keogh, this outrageous play was a sign of changing times. The plot focuses on a dangerously depraved young man who seduces both middle-aged sister and brother in his lodgings, before helping to dispose of their elderly father.

More evidence that times were changing was the reappearance of Godspell at the Civic for PACT in May, again directed by Des and Dawn Lindberg. After its history of bannings, court cases and complaints from conservatives, it now boasted a black performer, Sam Marais, as The Master, his salary paid by the government.

Another highlight was the presentation of two works, both directed by Richard Haines, which played in tandem: Chekhov in Yalta drew its material from the sparring and romancing of the Russian literati at the turn of the century, and starred Frantz Dobrowsky, Michael McCabe, James Borthwick and Jacqui Singer. These four, plus Shelagh Holliday and Charlotte Butler, also appeared in Chekhov's Uncle Vanya.

Christmas brought The King and I to the State Theatre with Joe Stewardson and Judy Page starring. In Johannesburg, PACT's holiday show at the Civic was a revival of The Student Prince, lent extra excitement by the appearance of Taubie Kushlick, returning to the stage for the first time in ten years, as the Grand Duchess. It was a fitting celebration of Taubie's half-century in the theatre, and her sweeping entrance was alone worth the price of admission.

Audiences continued to give healthy support to opera and ballet. CAPAB imported one of the world's foremost baritones, Hermann Prey, for their 1985 production of Don Giovanni. In February Prey gave a memorable recital in Pretoria of Schubert's Winterreise song cycle. In March, the State Theatre mounted its first production (by Michael Rennison) of Wagner's Tristan and Isolde with Gerd Brenneis and Marita Napier, followed by Richard Gregson's production of Rigoletto.

In July, Carla Pohl, Jacek Strauch and Ernesto Veronelli appeared in Tosca at the Civic. Marita Napier and Mimi Coertse featured in Turandot in September, when Manon Lescaut was also staged, starring Japanese soprano Yoko Watanabe with Vasile Moldoveanu and Christiaan du Plessis. By 1986, however, the cultural boycott began to affect opera, and PACT's productions of Madam Butterfly and La Cenerentola were cast without overseas names. The cast of the latter, a re-creation of Jean-Pierre Ponelle's production by Sonja Frisell, included Dean van der Walt, whose recent Covent Garden debut was launching him on a major international career.

A highlight of the ballet year in 1985 was PACT's staging of Nureyev's Don Quixote, in which all the company's principal dancers alternated the leading roles. In 1986, PACT Ballet introduced us to work of the brilliant Singaporean-born choreographer and associate director of the Washington Ballet, Choo San Goh. Despite his origins, he ignored the boycott and came from Washington to stage his own ballets, In the Glow of Night and Variations Serieuses, and Ashton's The Dream. He was an exceptional talent, much esteemed in the USA, and a marvellous man who, sadly, died a couple of years later.

In October 1986, coinciding with Johannesburg's 100th birthday celebrations (for which, at the Civic, Tony Farmer designed and directed a unique multi-media show featuring a hundred performers and reflecting ten decades of theatre), PACT Ballet presented three special gala performances of Swan Lake at the Civic. The galas were held in honour of South Africa's three great pioneers of ballet, Ivy Conmee, Marjorie Sturman and Faith de Villiers, and PACT principals Beverley Bagg, Jeremy Coles, Dianne Finch, Liane Lurie and Martin Raistrick were joined by CAPAB's Clare Shepherd-Wilson and Eduard Greyling for the occasion

Modern dance, too, was expanding in 1986, and a series of major showcase events was announced at which master classes would be given by Robyn Orlin and Sonje Mayo and performances by Sylvia Glasser's Moving into Dance Company, Esther Nasser Movement Inc, and Tossie van Tonder. This exciting development caused some controversy, however. It was to be held in Durban and doubts were cast as to whether the Durban public was ready to embrace the avant-garde.

This seemed particularly churlish in view of the advances made on the cultural front by NAPAC. On 11 October 1985, Graham and I had attended the final performance - Geoffrey Sutherland's imaginative production of Peer Gynt\- at the old Durban Alhambra, for some years NAPAC's base.

On 12 April 1986, we were back in Durban for the opening of the new Natal Playhouse complex when the Natal Philharmonic Orchestra, under the baton of NAPAC's new resident conductor, David Tidboald, performed Beethoven's Ninth Symphony. The Playhouse was a handsome period-style building, amalgamating the old Colosseum and Playhouse theatres and retaining several of the original architectural and decorative features. The construction and design had been overseen by NAPAC's then newly appointed executive director, Rodney Phillips, who won the 1985 FOYSA Award for his achievements. Under his energetic and visionary guidance emerged The Loft, an experimental space which would quickly become one of the country's most exciting drama venues. NAPAC, long the poor relation of the arts councils with no opera chorus or regular ballet company, would soon acquire both and move to the forefront of modern dance.

By late 1986, NAPAC was very much up and running, and Johannesburg saw two of its productions. Noël and Gertie with Philip Godawa and Andre Hattingh as Coward and Gertrude Lawrence, came to the Leonard Rayne Theatre. Geoffrey Sutherland's ebullient and highly entertaining production of The Pirates of Penzance in a new version which had enjoyed London and Broadway success, and starring Clive Scott, Julie Wilson, Edwin van Wyk and Colleen-Rae Holmes, was brought to the Civic by PACT for the Christmas season.

PACT also presented Every Good Boy Deserves Favour. Subtitled 'A Play for Actors and Orchestra', Every Good Boy is an unusual, ingenious and ambitious piece in which the text, by Tom Stoppard, and the music, by Andre Previn, are totally interdependent. Set largely in a Russian psychiatric ward, it was directed by Dawn Lindberg with Danny Keogh, Michael McCabe, Michael Richard and Lynne White and won the Vita Award for the best production of 1986.

Throughout 1985 Pieter Toerien continued to keep his theatres busy with a steady stream of commercial thrillers (Agatha Christie's Black Coffee with Bill Flynn shining as Hercule Poirot), comedies (Michael Frayn's award-winning Benefactors directed by Rex Garner with Richard Haines, Robert Whitehead, Fiona Ramsay and Vanessa Cooke), and revivals of comedies (One for the Pot with Rex Garner, Tobie Cronje and Tim Plewman; The Marriage-Go-Round with Anneline Kriel - then Mrs Sol Kerzner- and Gordon Mulholland).

The programming of the Toerien seasons included a sprinkling of less predictable fare. At the Leonard Rayne in June Michael Richard gave a bravura performance as the great nineteenth-century actor Edmund Kean, in Kean, a one-man play commissioned and performed with much success by Ben Kingsley in London. And in August, ten years after his original production, Pieter brought back Equus, with Jeremy Crutchley giving a mesmerising performance as the boy.

Pieter repeated the pattern in 1986. Popular highlights of the year included Agatha Christie's Murder at the Vicarage, in which Shelagh Holliday's Miss Marples had to deal with a larger than usual shoal of red herrings; a seven-month run (coinciding with the seventh year in London) for The Business of Murder, with Michael Atkinson, Andre Jacobs and Janet du Plessis; and a blockbusting comedy, Ray Cooney's Two into One, at the Andre Huguenet with Messrs Garner and Plewman. Rex Garner directed Bill Flynn, a comic delight, in The Foreigner, and the equally funny Tobie Cronje in Funny Peculiar, which boasted some full-frontal nudity. On the slightly more serious side, Sandra Duncan played the Grand Duchess in the docu-drama The Anastasia File, and co-starred with Richard Haines, John Carson and Arnold Vosloo in Miscarriage of Murder. This world premiere of a courtroom drama based on an actual Cape Town event during the 1930s, marked Richard Haines' last appearance for Toerien before his untimely death in 1990.

At the other end of the spectrum, Pieter brought the Baxter production of Tom and Viv to the Alhambra in August. This poignant and haunting play about T.S. Eliot and his first wife, Vivienne Haigh-Wood - a relationship described as 'a profound misalliance' - was directed by Ken Leach, with Neil McCarthy as the poet and Dorothy Ann Gould as the tragic Viv who ended her life in a mental institution. The production was dedicated to the pioneering director and teacher Rosalie van der Gucht, who had died in 1985 aged seventy-eight.

Shirley Firth, producing solo at the Andre Huguenet, presented Neil Simon's Brighton Beach Memoirs in February, directed by Louis Burke and co-starring his wife Joan Brickhill, with young newcomer, Ian von Memerty. Using her expert marketing skills, which included the then novel ploy of a Sunday opening, Shirley sold out the first two weeks of the run in advance of the press night. On 4 March, a special performance was held in aid of the Bill Brewer Memorial Fund, the popular comedian, actor and critic having died in April 1984.

Later in the year, Pieter Toerien presented two unusual musical entertainments at the Andre Huguenet. Jerry's Girls celebrated the glorious tunes of Jerry Herman in a compilation show directed by Jimmy Bell with Judy Page, Christine Caine and Dianne Chandler. This was followed by Stepping Out, Richard Harris' play about aspirants at a tap-dancing academy, in which Sandra Duncan headed the talented female cast.

At an experimental space called the Laundro in the downstairs bar of the Alexander Theatre, I saw a late-night revue called Tarts, devised and directed by Kevin Feather. It featured Jocelyn Broderick, Natalie Gamsu and Gaby Lomberg, and transferred to the La Parisienne late-night, where a notable new talent, Kate Normington, replaced Gamsu. Kevin's talents were evident, and, in December, I saw the first Jo'burg Follies, which he created and co-starred in with Malcolm Terrey. Numerous editions of this outrageous revue (loosely based on Forbidden Broadway), have continued to enjoy successful seasons in Pieter Toerien's theatres. The first production, however, took place late-night at the old Black Sun in Berea, where we sat on collapsing old couches or on the floor.

In October 1985 Computicket booked for the Southern Sun Hotels Formula One Grand Prix at Kyalami. Nikki Lauda, Alain Prost and Nelson Piquet were among the top-class racing drivers who came here for what was, I learned from British grand prix supremo Bennie Ecclestone, the most expensive race on the circuit due to the rand-dollar exchange rate and the distance the drivers, their cars and their mechanics had to travel to get here.

By the end of the year, Jim Stodel had finally retired. Though hospitalised, he came out for a party given by Sol Kerzner. Dozens of friends and former colleagues attended the reception at the Kine Centre where they were greeted by a very frail guest of honour. He died shortly afterwards, marking the end of an era which had begun to crumble with the demolition of the grand theatres over which he had presided.

During 1985 and 1986, the busiest theatre was undoubtedly the Market. In addition to the impressive number of indigenous plays, they presented a full and varied programme of other productions, the majority of which were interesting or entertaining or both, and almost all could claim quality. The schedule was so tightly packed that with David Kramer Jol drawing crowds, Bobby Heaney's production of a Harold Pinter-Samuel Beckett double bill, One for the Road and Catastrophe, had to be staged at the Wits Theatre, where John Kani, Danny Keogh, Dorothy Ann Could (Pinter), Ron Smerczak, Vanessa Cooke and Kurt Egelhof (Beckett) gave excellent performances.

Among other Market highlights in 1985 were Hugh Whitemore's Stevie about poet Stevie Smith in which Dorothy Ann Gould excelled herself, and Lucille Gillwald's production of Sam Shephard's True West with Wilson Dunster and Sean Taylor. The following year, Lucille's production of John Patrick Shanley's Danny and the Deep Blue Sea at the Laager won both Vita and DALRO awards for Danny Keogh (co-starring with Lesley Nott).

A major triumph of 1986 for The Company and Barney Simon was Barney's compelling production of The Dybbuk with Joe Stewardson as the Rabbi, and the year also brought the first major play about Aids to be seen in Johannesburg, William M. Hoffman's As Is. A remarkable and devastating piece, it was directed by Janice Honeyman with Frantz Dobrowsky and Sean Taylor, plus Vanessa Cooke, Russel Savadier, Neville Thomas, Gina Benjamin and Rufus Swart playing multiple roles.

In association with the Market, Basil Rubin presented Herb Gardiner's Tony Award-winning I'm Not Rappaport with Anthony Fridjohn and Peter Se-Puma, and two productions came from the Baxter to the Upstairs. Steven Berkoff's Greek was directed by Mavis Taylor, and Not About Heroes by Keith Grenville. This last, for Moyra Fine's Volute Productions, was a poignant and masterly two-hander about the friendship between the war poets Siegfried Sassoon and Wilfred Owen, and co-starred Jon Maytham and Dawid Minnaar.

Taubie Kushlick, announcing her belief that the future of the theatre lay in small restaurant theatres, staged her musical biography, From Taubie with Love, at the La Parisienne. Starring Judy Page and her daughter Kim Kallie, it ran from the beginning of August to the end of September. Taubie followed this with another showing of The Best of Brel. I was first in the queue!

The Boswell-Wilkie circus arrived for its Christmas season on 4 December. The month also saw conductor Richard Cock and the National Symphony Orchestra present a programme of Christmas Carols at the City Hall. The orchestra, which would later introduce pop music into its repertoire, hoped to encourage a wider audience to the concert hall by providing family entertainment.

Also, in December, Pieter Toerien celebrated twenty-five years in the theatre. Roy Christie, in a tribute in The Star Tonight! wrote of Pieter's 'extraordinary record of survival and achievement' and, at a celebration held at the Alhambra, Pieter said, 'If, in these twenty-five years, I have at least given some people a little fun and entertainment, then I'm happy.'

The anniversary coincided with Terrence Shank's production of Doubles by David Wiltse, starring Bill Flynn, Tim Plewman, Eckard Rabe and Michael Richard. It was Pieter Toerien's 188th presentation.
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

SOLDIERING ON

Despite much activity in the entertainment industry, it was struggling for survival in the face of general economic crisis. In June 1986, Anthony Salus bury had been appointed managing director of Satbel, who were very unhappy with our financial returns. It was clear that we had to find new ways and means of generating income.

Aubrey Louw had brought a ray of light into the gloom during 1986. Searching for a client who could guarantee solid weekly revenue for Computicket, he found a previously untapped market in inter-city transport. Safmarine was introducing the concept of luxury double-decker buses with their Citiliner service between Johannesburg and Durban. This company hoped with this mode of transport, complete with video entertainment and refreshments on board, to provide profitable competition to Greyhound and the railways. We had dealt successfully with bus packages to Sun City for six years, and immediately saw how Computicket could be of value to Citiliner. Who, after all, was to sell their tickets? We went for the gap and found ourselves on the first rung of a new ladder. Bus tickets are a completely different matter from theatre tickets. On a long-haul journey with, say, six stops, it is quite feasible that six people, each on a different leg of the journey, would occupy the same seat. Operators had to be able to key in a ticket for any combination of stops on a journey. All this necessitated the writing of a new computer programme. In the midst of this, Aubrey received a call from Greyhound, who serviced routes to all the major cities, including a fourteen- stop bus to Cape Town. Negotiations were concluded and involved six months of reprogramming at a cost of R300 000.

The bus business was full of surprises. An astonishing number of customers left their booking to the day they wanted to travel, while the bus companies frequently changed their pick-up points, which could leave passengers stranded if our information wasn't absolutely up to the minute. However, we now had income from a source that remained unaffected by political factors, and our financial outlook took an upward turn. Over the years, other companies joined the system and we could offer transport to every corner of the country.

We were beginning to enjoy another unexpected source of income with the advent of rebel cricket tours. The visits of the West Indies team in 1982/83 and 1983/84 had drawn a new crop of spectators who had never attended a cricket match, and the 1985/86 and 1986/87 visits of the Australians drew masses of sport-crazy South Africans, who were unconcerned that the tour was unauthorised.

Although the cricket gave Computicket a welcome boost, we suffered another dent in our income later in the year when the Civic Theatre closed for rebuilding from 8 August for a projected period of two years. In reality it remained closed for almost six years. No matter what the financial state of our business was at any given moment, the complexity of the operation never diminished. Three sets of information books for our operators were produced each week- one for cinemas, one for theatres and a third for transport. These had to be absolutely accurate and distributed to every terminal in the country, a procedure for which we initially used scooters then, to cope with the increased weight of the documents and the exigencies of the weather, cars. The books were vital for the keying in of booking codes, but no amount of planning could avoid the occasional hitch such as a photocopier breaking down and landing us with a knock-on emergency across the country.

In June 1987 I attended the Box Office Managements International Conference in London. The night before the conference began, I was privileged to be present when the cream of the British theatre performed in honour of a frail Laurence Olivier on his eightieth birthday. After the conference, I left for Israel where I'd been invited to give lectures on the Computicket system. I had meetings with the organisers of the Jerusalem Festival and the administration of the Habimah and all other theatres but, once again, the problems of implementation proved insurmountable. The reason this time was quite unusual: the ticket-selling franchise had been given to war veterans who wouldn't be persuaded to relinquish their hold on it.

I was back in Johannesburg in time for the formation of lnterleisure Limited on 1 July 1987. The company, which would be floated on the stock exchange later in the year, had been masterminded by Sol Kerzner, combining the activities of Satbel (Pty) Ltd (comprising Ster-Kinekor, Toron Film Production, Irene Film Laboratories, Ster-Kinekor Video, Cinemark and Computicket), as well as several food businesses. Ian Heron was appointed chairman, and Anthony Salusbury became the chief executive officer.

Cinema was very much in the limelight in 1987. In March, Ster-Kinekor, responding to pressure from the American film industry, announced that henceforth their chain of 185 cinemas, including drive-ins, would be open to all races. The general manager (later managing director) of the group's theatres, Philip McDonald, played a major role in this new dispensation, negotiating behind the scenes with intractable local councils. When the Pretoria and Krugersdorp councils refused to co-operate, Ster closed all cinemas in those areas until they relented. It was also McDonald who realised that cinemas were under-utilised. He increased screenings from four a day to six, eliminated intervals and introduced the 10 p.m. show, which radically changed cinemagoing habits and swelled revenue. And the end of the year brought the opening of Johannesburg's first major arts cinema complex at Rosebank Mall, which would do so much to promote and popularise foreign films, especially after the death of film societies.

On the live entertainment scene, Sun City's current extravaganza, Movin', featured the talented pair Sam Marais and Natalia da Rocha, come a long way from their humble beginnings at Hillbrow's 58. Meanwhile, Hazel Feldman continued her efforts to draw audiences to the Superbowl by staging a specially tailored show combining gymnastics, acrobatics and glamour. She brought American Bart Conner, who had been in the gold medal-winning gymnastic team at the 1984 Olympics, to star, together with another gold medallist, Julianne McNamara, and a host of other top gymnasts, in 'Gymnastics goes Hollywood'. This daring and spectacular display was one of the best shows I ever saw at Sun City but, with the Olympics forbidden to South African television, the athletes were unknown, and the show didn't begin to do the business it deserved.

Next, Hazel experimented with heavy metal and brought Nazareth and Wishbone Ash, big names who ignored the boycott to rack up a huge success in May. Encouraged, she continued with Black Sabbath in July. The place exploded, with twelve thousand hysterical fans converging on the first weekend. The noise level of the music was so deafening you could have listened free of charge from outside the Superbowl.

September brought more success with the German group Modern Talking, whose lead performer, Thomas Anders, requested designer water ice cubes! Britain's Status Quo, who had played the Colosseum in 1980, defied the ban, but the biggest surprise at Sun City was local singer Bles Bridges, who signed for just three shows in November. Coverage in the Afrikaans press resulted in Computicket selling out all three shows even before the advertisements appeared, proving that the public would pay to see a popular favourite no matter where from.

Taubie Kushlick, who had taken a lease on the La Parisienne, celebrated a double anniversary on 7 January 1987- her fifty-sixth wedding anniversary and her fifty-sixth year in the theatre -with a categorical announcement that she was not retiring. In February she brought French Canadian singer Danielle Pascal to appear in a Brel show, About Love, and in Bràvo Piaf. Being authentically French, Danielle's performances were splendidly enjoyable.

However, Taubie's next venture- a tribute to the Gershwins called 'S' Wonderful, 'S' Marvellous '-was panned by the critics, which drove Taubie to give a dramatic TV interview which led the viewers to assume that she would, after all, be retiring from the theatre. While continuing to deny this, Mrs Kushlick admitted to folly in having taken a long lease on La Parisienne and said that running both a home and a theatre full time was somewhat too taxing at her age. Of the Gershwin show she said, 'If the public does not support this I will be sad, for it is one of the best things I have done. But there will be no tears. What is there to cry about? I am alive and well ... '

Taubie or no Taubie, La Parisienne was ill-fated. The premises suffered a second fire at the beginning of 1988. When La Parisienne was built, a ramp had been constructed for wheelchair patrons. Unbeknown to anybody, a bunch of vagrants had crawled under the ramp and broken in underneath the theatre which they used as a 'home'. One night, when they were presumably cooking on a paraffin stove, the building went up in smoke, ending the short life of the theatre. Thus, the venue which had started life as the Academy Theatre, disappeared from the theatrical life of Johannesburg. The last show presented there was Neil McKay's production of Aces High, starring Alain D Woolf and the Razzle Jazzle Dancers.

In January, Johannesburg made its first acquaintance with Mark Banks, destined to become one of the country's most successful stand-up comics and satirists with his outrageous jokes at the expense of everybody and everything. He played at the Laager in We're Not on Top ... We're Inside, a title based on a successful TV commercial. The black tabs which served as decor in the unadorned little theatre were almost turned bright blue by this talented comedian's colourful language. In August Ian Fraser, another up and coming satirist, appeared at the Black Sun with his monologue, Bring Me Gandhi, about a sadistic ex-cop.

In Durban the year began with the opening of the new Drama Playhouse, where Malcolm Farquhar directed James Roose-Evans' adaptation of Cider with Rosie, from Laurie Lee's much-loved novel about childhood. In collaboration with PACT, this inaugural production came to the Alexander in February, the month during which two new venues opened in Johannesburg.

The Little Theatre in Mutual Square, Rosebank, run by Delia Sainsbury and Keith Galloway, opened with a humorous one-woman show, Sugar and Spice, sparklingly performed by actress Bess Finney and directed by Terrence Shank. The Little Theatre was used by various independent managements until its last couple of years when it was run by Moira Blumenthal and then Daphne Kuhn. It closed in 1996.

On 7 February, the old hall of the B.G. Alexander Nurses' Home reopened as the Adcock-Ingram Auditorium in the Windybrow complex. Sponsored by Norman Nossel and Adcock-Ingram, the hall had been converted for PACT by Stan Knight and Andrew Botha. The inaugural evening took the form of a 'Soiŕee Musicale' featuring the PACT Opera company and preceded by a dedication spoken by Louis van Niekerk, Aletta Bezuidenhout, Nomsa Nene and Bill Curry. The opening production, directed by Dieter Reible, was Euripides' The Women of Troy with Babs Laker, Aletta Bezuidenhout and Nomsa Nene.

The Windybrow complex was going full steam ahead. Man die van der Spuy, NAPAC's publicity head from its inception, left to join PACT in the same capacity, and brought her expertise to publicising the venue where, in July, Des and Dawn Lindberg presented When I Was a Girl I Used to Scream and Shout. Directed by Dawn at the Adcock-Ingram, this West End success about two women (Gina Benjamin, Gaby Lomberg) who look back on their childhood, necessitated warnings that it was sexually explicit, but drew enthusiastic critical response to its warmth, humanity and humour.

In August, Basil Rubin in association with CAPAB brought Diane Wilson to the Adcock-Ingram in her acclaimed one-woman show, Zelda, written by William Luce who based it on the life and writings of the tormented Zelda Fitzgerald, wife of F. Scott. It was directed by Michael Atkinson. Basil also co-presented, with Pieter-Dirk Uys, Panorama at the Alexander. This tale of two civilians living on Robben Island, had been hailed as the best of that year's Grahamstown Festival offerings and was considered 'a gem' by Barry Ronge. Unfortunately, neither of these ventures attracted more than average business; nor did Bobby Heaney's revival of The Maids for PACT at the Windybrow Dalro with Wilna Snyman, Clare Stopford and Aletta Bezuidenhout, whose performance won her a DALRO Award.

In the course of the year at their more conventional theatre, the Alexander, PACT revived Look Back in Anger, with Michael Richard as Jimmy Porter under François Swart's direction; and Marius Weyers, who had performed so brilliantly as an ape at the Market, matched the achievement as a horse in Strider, Mark Rozovsky's play set in nineteenth- century Russia. Directed by Terrence Shank, it had been one of the big successes of the Grahamstown Festival (for which Computicket was now handling the booking).

Weyers also played Hamlet, opposite Sandra Prinsloo's Ophelia, in Afrikaans for TRUK Director François Swart's casting caused controversy among those unused to the idea of mature actors in these roles, but Johannesburg never saw the production, which premiered at the State Theatre, followed by a season at the Roodepoort Civic. PACT, with good reason, felt that audiences in that area were more likely to support the classics in Afrikaans than were Johannesburg's theatregoers. Before the closure of the Johannesburg Civic, PACT Ballet staged Les Patineurs with guest artist Vincent Bantam, and Balanchine's Agon and Theme and Variations. After the closure of the theatre, PACT began operating what they termed a 'stagecoach' -a free bus to take people to the Pretoria State Theatre. The service, which departed from the Killarney Shopping Centre, began with the opening of II Trovatore on 19 August and ended with the final performance of The Sleeping Beauty ballet on 10 October.

April brought a third new venue, and a fifth for the Market with the opening of the Warehouse. It was launched with Janice Honeyman's production of Black and White Follies a riotous send-up of the mining tycoons who had actually sponsored the venue. The Warehouse soon became the first Johannesburg theatre to play on Sundays.

With twenty-five successful years behind him, Pieter Toerien stuck to the formula that had served him and his audiences so well in recent years - thrillers, comedies, and revivals of comedies, sprinkled with less usual fare. Rex Garner gave, in my opinion, one of the finest performances of his career- by turns funny and poignant- in Bernard Slade's Tribute, depicting one man's journey through life. Moira Lister turned director with Deadly Embrace at the Leonard Rayne. Starring Sandra Duncan and Jeremy Crutchley, this thriller particularly appealed to me since the plot featured the use of a computer in the planning of a murder.

At the Alhambra, Simon Gray's articulate comedy, The Common Pursuit, following the lives of five young men and a girl from Cambridge to London, was directed by Ken Leach with Jonathan Rands, Tim Plewman, Russel Savadier, David Clatworthy, Jeremy Crutchley and Jennifer Steyn.

Peter Goldsmid directed Michael Atkinson in Michael Voysey's My Astonishing Self, a one-man show about George Bernard Shaw in which Atkinson gave a masterly interpretation of the great Irish man of letters. There was more Tom Stoppard- Rough Crossings with Fiona Ramsay and Tobie Cronje, directed by Robert Whitehead- and more Ray Cooney with Wife Begins at Forty, in which Rex Garner directed Paul Ditchfield and Janet du Plessis. And at the Andre Huguenet, which had also housed the cricketing comedy Outside Edge and a long re-run of Who Goes Bare, Terrence Shank's production of the mildly erotic thriller Double Double starred Sandra Prinsloo and Sean Taylor.

During 1987 over fifty percent of all theatre productions in Johannesburg were indigenous works. They were mushrooming all over the place but, by now, the imaginative impetus was lessening and, in the main, they were not performing well at the box office. Once again, the main focus of these productions was the Market, whose offerings included another production of Hallo en Koebaai (Hello and Goodbye) at the Upstairs. Esther van Ryswyk's production had originated at the Baxter and starred Royston Stoffels and Shaleen Surtie-Richards, in demand since her success in Fiela Se Kind, and who would go on to TV fame through Egoli.

Mara Louw and Bayete appeared in Mayibuye iAfrica, the second show at the Warehouse, where Pieter-Dirk Uys, with Chris Galloway, had another go at the state of the nation with Rearranging the Deck Chairs on the S.A. Bothatanic. The duo was back in December with Pieter's Cry Freemandela - The Movie, a take on the banning of the film Cry Freedom. On this occasion, several of the sketches fell flat, but this didn't deter audiences from pouring in.

The Laager presented a most unusual evening when Mehlondini (meaning 'Bloody Eyes'), written and directed by James Mthoba, was produced with a cast consisting of members of the Transvaal Association of Black Blind Adults. At the main house in August, a hostile reception was accorded Athol Fugard's new play, A Place for the Pigs, in which he directed himself and Lida Meiring, and there was disappointment, too, for Saira Essa (voted The Star Woman of the Year) whose new play, You Can't Stop the Revolution, which opened at the main house in November, failed to attract audiences.

But two productions at the Market outstripped all others and, indeed, supplied the two major theatre events of the year.

On 12 June 1987, Graham and I came into a packed foyer, where the atmosphere was charged with expectation. The occasion was the opening night of Mbongeni Ngema's musical Sarafina, to which its creator had invited too many guests, which resulted in people sitting on the steps and, indeed, crowding into every available corner for what turned out to be an electrifying and unforgettable evening.

Played by a largely teenage and totally inexperienced cast (Leleti Khumalo in the title role), trained from scratch by Ngema, this Committed Artists production dealt with the life of schoolchildren in Soweto during the upheavals of 1976. Combining pathos, humour, joy and tragedy with show-stopping music (additional songs by Hugh Masekela), the show brought the totally involved audience to its feet answering the shouts of 'Amandla' from the stage and giving the evening the sort of reception, we hadn't seen since the pre-protest musicals, King Kong and Ipi-Tombi.

There wasn't an empty seat during the run of Sarafina, to which black audiences, for whom the identification levels were high, flocked in large numbers. It was a milestone show, which repeated its success in New York, running for a year and garnering a clutch of Tony nominations before touring the United States. It is sad that, nine years later, the name Sarafina would come to be associated with scandal and corruption, tainting Ngema and the government when Sarafina II was identified with the use of misappropriated funds.

Three months later, on 16 September, another expectant opening night audience arrived at the Market to see history in the making with Janet Suzman's production of Othello in which, for the first time in South Africa, they would witness a black man in the title role. This great tragedy, unfolded in marvellous settings by Johan Engels, had John Kani as the Moor, opposite Joanna Weinberg's Desdemona, both overshadowed by the powerful Iago of Richard Haines.

It was in the reading of Iago that Suzman's approach to the play was made manifest. He was a metaphor for the evil of the State in wrecking human happiness. Janet Suzman said of this venture, 'The rightness of doing this play, with this cast, in this theatre, at this time, seems to me so obvious as hardly to warrant clarification ... The overtones, undercurrents and reverberations for our country are hauntingly evident.'

The critics agreed, and, at National Vita Awards time, Othello won for the best production and Janet for best director, while Dorothy Ann Gould was voted best supporting actress for her outstanding performance as Emilia. The absence of Richard Haines from the awards list was a disappointment to the many admirers of his Iago.

For Christmas, all the performing arts councils joined forces to stage a new production of The Great Waltz that would tour all the major cities. Jean Fenn once again came out from Seattle to star, opposite Lawrence Folley, with Sharon Rostorf, Barry Coleman and Carina Cronje. Directed by David Matheson and choreographed by Geoffrey Sutherland, the season opened at the State Theatre in November, and the show once again proved a runaway success.

On its own account, PACT staged its first pantomime, instituting a popular family tradition for years to come. The suggestion of an annual panto had come from Lynette Marais, the administrative head of drama, who had noted the great success of Cinderella in 1983 and Robinson Crusoe in 1984, both produced by John Moss but staged only in Pretoria. At Lynette's instigation, Janice Honeyman was commissioned to write and direct a version of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. With Melanie Bowles as Snow White, Joanna Weinberg as the Prince, and an all-star line-up of dwarfs and other characters, it played to capacity at the Alexander. In due course, these profitable ventures were translated into Afrikaans as the Christmas attraction at the State Theatre.

The Million Dollar Golf Tournament at Sun City took a new and exciting turn when Sol Kerzner took up a suggestion made earlier by Seve Ballesteros that there should be an all-or-nothing prize, a million-dollar winner with no runners-up. Ironically, Seve didn't participate and, indeed, didn't play at Sun City between 1985 and 1997. The first player to pocket a million was the five-foot-four-inch Welshman, Ian Woosnam who left Lanny Wadkins, Bernard Langer, José Maria Olazabal, Curtis Strange, David Frost, Nick Faldo and Fulton Allem to go home empty-handed.

It was a fabulous tournament, during which the players stayed at the Cascades Hotel, where I spent some delightful mornings breakfasting in their company. I think golfers are among the most approachable of all celebrities.

Back at the office after the golf, I found that booking, which had opened on 1 December, for a season of District Six to begin at the Market on 11 February, was progressing at a phenomenal rate. Word had travelled north from Cape Town, where David Kramer and Taliep Petersen's musical had run at the Baxter for almost six months and had been seen by some 120 000 enthusiastic people. The show's forthcoming arrival in Johannesburg augured well for the 1988 season.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

PUPPETS, PANTO AND POLITICS

PACT's twenty-fifth anniversary year in 1988 got off to a flying start with Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs and The Great Waltz continuing to play to capacity houses well into the new year. Their first new production in 1988, mounted in collaboration with Moyra Fine's Volute Productions, was the Australian play Gulls by Robert Hewett. It was a poignant piece about a retarded forty-year-old man which Moyra had staged in association with CAPAB the previous year. It had been hugely successful and won the Cape Vita Award.

Ron Smerczak gave an astonishing performance in the lead role, ably supported by Diane Wilson, Joy Stewart-Spence and Jeremy Taylor. An integral part of the production, directed by Keith Grenville, was the use of gull puppets, designed by Adrian Kohler of the Handspring Puppet Company and manipulated on stage by Mark Hoeben and Mark Graham. The talents of Handspring would come to flower in many productions and gain them international recognition, notably with Woyzeck on the Highveld in 1992 and their award-winning 1995 Faustus in Africa, both of which originated at the Market and toured extensively abroad.

The drama year at PACT also brought Bobby Heaney's production of Largo Desolato, Tom Stoppard's adaptation of the latest play from the pen of political dissident, playwright and soon-to-be president of the Czech Republic, Vaclav Ravel. The ironically witty script was brought to life by Michael McCabe, Dale Cutts, Jonathan Rands and Peter Se-Puma. Bobby also directed Shakespeare's The Winter's Tale, the year's setwork. An excellent production, it drew audiences well beyond the schools' quota. Sandra Prinsloo, one of our few expertly bilingual actresses (she won the Computicket award for Vluit Vir die Vlieë), distinguished herself as Hermione; and Wilna Snyman proved her ability in English when she played Eleanor of Aquitaine in Dieter Reible's revival of The Lion in Winter, a role she had taken in Afrikaans six years earlier.

Terrence Shank's production of Beirut, a play by Alan Browne, not only carried an under-I8 age restriction, but patrons were advised that those who found sexually explicit situations or language offensive or embarrassing should stay away. The warning ensured that every seat was sold though, in truth, the production was boring and unimaginative.

On 12 January, a revival of Fugard's The Blood Knot opened, giving a new generation of theatregoers an opportunity to see this play. Directed by Barney Simon with John Kani and Marcel van Heerden, it retained its original power and drew audiences.

On 31 January, I went off to Gold Reef City to witness the auction of theatrical memorabilia collected over three decades by the Brickhill/Burke partnership. It was a sad moment for Joan, who had lovingly gathered the cornucopia of items which ranged from Minstrel Scandals costumes through posters to hairpieces, not to mention a variety of props. There were 357 lots in all, including greasepaint and resin.

To watch the disposal of the items (I bought the contents of the Hello Dolly! display case) was to see the end of an era. As Joan said in an interview, there were no large theatres left, other than those stages pre-empted by the performing arts councils, and no touring company could plan a countrywide tour anymore. Consequently, Joan and Louis, who had at one time employed 256 artists and staff, had no further use for the items and could no longer afford the staggering storage costs.

The first quarter of the year was rich in opera and ballet, although Johannesburg opera and ballet lovers, whose Civic Theatre was closed indefinitely and whose free bus rides to the State Theatre were no more, were disgruntled at either having to go to Pretoria or miss out. In a mild effort to pacify this audience, a special concert performance of Andrea Chénier, with Maurizio Frusoni and Carla Pohl, was given at the City Hall on 31 March. Meanwhile, those of us happy to make the journey to Pretoria in February, had seen Benjamin Britten's The Turn of the Screw, directed by François Swart and conducted by Neville Dove. This chamber opera broke with precedent in being staged, appropriately, in the more intimate drama theatre at the State, where Eugenie Chopin-Couzyn sang the governess, Sally Presant the housekeeper, Elsabé Boonzaier-Blum Miss Jessel and Manuel Escorcio the evil Peter Quint, with Francois Schreuder and Jolette Odendaal as the children. In April, Swart directed Richard Strauss' Elektra, conducted by visiting Hungarian Gabor Ötvӧs. For this difficult, demanding and dramatic work, American soprano Janice Yoes came to sing the title role, Yugoslavian dramatic soprano Danica Mastilovic sang Clytemnestra, Carla Pohl Chrysothemis, Rouel Beukes Orestes and George Kok Aegisthos. May brought a production of Otello, one of the most exacting works in the Verdi repertoire. Rumanian tenor Corneliu Murgu tackled the title role opposite Rikie Venter's Desdemona, but the clear victor was Wikus Slabbert, whose performance in Neels Hansen's production, brought comments from opera buffs that the opera should be renamed 'Iago'. There was more opera in August when Hansen directed Donizetti's Don Pasquale with Michael Rippon, Barry Coleman, Sharon Rostorf and Piero Guarnera, and sets by Anthony Farmer.

In August, the Johannesburg Publicity Association and Highveld Stereo radio combined to present The Johannesburg Pops at the City Hall. This marriage between a symphony orchestra (conducted on this occasion by Gerry Bosman) and pop music was the brainchild of Peter Human, who had the satisfaction of seeing it become an institution, and one of the year's most eagerly awaited events. In time, the event grew into a four-day season of six concerts, given in open-air venues with attendances in the region of 5 000 people per performance.

PACT ballet marked the organisation's twenty-fifth year with a special programme of highlights from the great ballets which they had presented over the years, danced by the entire company from top principals to the lowliest members of the corps. This was followed for a week in February by the full-length ballet The Three Musketeers.

In March, the PACT Contemporary Dance Company launched their first season at the Alexander, staging Seamoves, Dance For Me and Octopus Garden, indigenous works by Sonje Mayo, Isak Coetzee and Esther Nasser respectively. This company returned in September/October for seasons at the Alexander and State theatres with new works by Robyn Orlin, Malcolm Botha and Esther Nasser. Orlin's Here for the Duration, Too attracted particular attention, but in October, the season had competition from the Mercedes Molina Spanish Dance Theatre, who unveiled a new work, Lady Macbeth, at the Wits Theatre, and from Marlene Blom's Exhibition in 3 Pieces at the Market. Exciting as this might have seemed, the three seasons served only to split the audience so that nobody did the business they should, a point which I made to the managements, urging them to co-operate in their future planning.

In April, the Cape Town-based choreographer Veronica Paeper (who, in later years, would succeed David Poole as the head of CAP AB Ballet), came to the Transvaal to mount Spartacus. This epic work, danced in spectacular sets by Peter Cazalet, was highly successful. The title role was danced alternately by Martin Raistrick, Jeremy Coles and Daniel Gwatkin, while Phrygia, was interpreted by Catherine Burnett, Clare Shepherd-Wilson and Ashley Durrant.

Treats for balletomanes continued in June when we saw two glorious ballets by Balanchine, Rubies, danced to a Stravinsky score, and Who Cares? with music by George Gershwin. June also brought another revival of Anna Karenina with Liane Lurie, Catherine Burnett and Marion Lindsay alternating in the title role. Rosalinda returned in July, and in September the company paid homage to Nijinsky with a programme comprising Les Sylphides, Le Spectre de la Rose, L'Après-midi d 'un Faune and Petrushka.

PACT Music was not forgotten in the year's special events, which included a series of concerts in August given by mezzo soprano Shirley Love from the Metropolitan Opera.

David Kramer and Taliep Petersen's District Six- The Musical was set in the Sixties, spanning several years including the period when that area of Cape Town was designated a 'white' area under the Group Areas Act. The story of this iniquitous decimation of a non-racial, but largely coloured and Muslim, community was told in music and song that ranged from ballads to kwela, from mbaqanga to jazz, with a dash of a capella harmonising thrown in. At once vibrant and moving, it had touched a deep chord in Cape audiences, and was about to have the same effect in Johannesburg where all 40 000 seats for the forthcoming Market season were sold out by 30 January. I phoned David Kramer to tell him the good news, and learnt that, since no extension was available at the Market, he was negotiating for a two-week season at the State's drama theatre in Pretoria. When we opened booking for this run, scheduled from 6 April, the demand was massive.

District Six opened at the Market theatre on 11 February 1988, coinciding with the twenty-second anniversary of the Government decree that had declared District Six a white area. The opening night audiences, as did all subsequent audiences, gave the show an ecstatic reception. Meanwhile, on that very morning I had been informed that the Pretoria season, for which Computicket had already sold some 11 000 seats, had been cancelled.

The following day, the Baxter Theatre and Blik productions issued a press statement in which they said, 'We have endeavoured at all times to ensure respect for the wishes and sensitivities of the former residents of District Six and those affected by the Group Areas Act.' Reading between the lines, it was clear that voices, which may well have included some of the show's cast, had been raised in protest at playing the show in what was perceived to be a bastion of the apartheid society. The Market management came up trumps, cancelling their proposed April show to allow District Six an extra three-week run from 4 April. We hoped that the extra week would allow the existing Pretoria ticketholders to be accommodated but the logistics of converting their tickets from the 700-seat drama theatre to the much smaller Market was a worse nightmare than the dreaded refund situation, particularly as some customers had to be persuaded to attend on a different date from that which they had originally booked. Needless to say, it was the Computicket operators who got all the flak.

Writing in the Sunday Star, John Michell talked of the show's magically inspiring and uplifting qualities and summed it up as 'a monument to the broken heart of Cape Town'. In August, the Baxter advertised another Cape Town season for the show, commencing on 29 November, inviting Johannesburg holidaymakers who had missed it at the Market to book for the Baxter. We were amazed at the response.

While the Baxter followed in Dawn Lindberg's footsteps by staging Every Good Boy Deserves Favour with Ralph Lawson, Roger Dwyer and the Cape Town Symphony Orchestra, the Lindberg's were planning a new musical, King Afrika, for which they had high hopes as the next King Kong. Needing a large venue, they consulted me as to the feasibility of taking the Standard Bank Arena. Having looked into the figures, I gave them the negative news that they would have to have an unqualified mega-hit just to break even and advised them against the venture. Their enthusiasm was not, however, to be dented and they organised a co-production with PACT, casting Henry Cele (who had been a sensation as Shaka in the TV mini-series Shaka Zulu) in the title role. Mara Louw co-starred, with Elsabé Zietsman and frontline singers Abigail Kubeka and Supafrika also featured, in a company of sixty singers and dancers.

In the event, the fate of the show, which opened in April, was summed up in one of the review headlines which called it 'almost a hit'. King Afrika was jam-packed with talent, sound and action, but the music and lyrics (by John Rothman) were mundane, Cele's singing voice failed to match his presence, and the venue was far too cavernous. The production lost a six-figure fortune.

Shirley Firth returned briefly to the management scene in May, taking the Windybrow for her production of Australian playwright Barry Creyton's 'ultra-adult' comedy, Double Act. Joan Brickhill directed Clive Scott and Erica Rogers, but the venture was no more than moderately successful. And in June, while the managements continued looking for the 'big idea', my old friend Max Collie surfaced again. I had a letter from Graham Wright telling me that, after a big success at the Baxter and elsewhere, the now seventy-six-year-old hypnotist was looking for a Johannesburg venue. I advised that the Alexander would be available, and Max opened there in mid-June to audiences who, as of old, were more than willing to sleep at his command and make complete fools of themselves in the course of a hilarious evening. The indomitable Max returned again in 1989 for seasons in Johannesburg and at the State Theatre.

Graham and I went to New York in July, and while there took the opportunity to see two films that we felt were unlikely to be shown in South Africa, Richard Attenborough's Cry Freedom and ex-South African Chris Menges, A World Apart. The cast of Sarafina, who were playing at Broadway's Cort Theatre at the time, were present at the latter showing. We subsequently attended a performance of Sarafina, which had earned five Tony Award nominations, only to be met on the way out - as were the rest of the audience - with leaflets protesting against the Sarafina company's refusal to pay a phone bill which the cast had run up at their New York hotel in long distance calls home. The sum was $40 000 ...

In the event, we saw both films in Johannesburg on our return. The controversial Cry Freedom, dealing with the relationship between newspaper editor Donald Woods and black activist Steve Biko, had been allowed a release which the Minister for Home Affairs, Mr Stoffel Botha, asked the Publications Appeal Board to 'reconsider'. A preview, which was besieged by the international media, was held at the Kine Centre on 28 July when the Appeal Board saw the film again. The result of their deliberations was the film's release with a 2-19 age restriction.

The first public screenings took place the next day and Darryl Accone of The Star reported, 'There were gasps of horror as scenes from the Soweto riots of 1976 were depicted, and viewers erupted into applause when . . . there flashed on the screen the familiar image of Hector Petersen being carried away. The audience joined in the singing of 'Nkosi Sikelel' iAfrika' which accompanies the film's last frame, an African landscape frozen to provide the backdrop to a list of those who had died in detention. To the film's last spoken word, 'Amandla', there was a thunderous 'Awethu' from the audience.'

Government reaction was swift. After only two showings in our major cities, Cry Freedom was banned by Justice Minister Kobie Coetsee and all copies of the film were seized by the police under Section 9 (2) of the State of Emergency media regulations. Once again, outrage made South Africa headline news overseas.

A month later, Graham and I saw A World Apart again at the Warehouse at the Market, where special permission had been obtained to show it as part of a film festival. Written by Shawn Slovo, daughter of banned Communist Party leader Joe Slovo and his wife Ruth First, the first of South Africa's 90-day detainees, the powerful and moving film was a barely disguised autobiographical account of the relationship between Ruth and her adolescent daughter, against the background of violent events. At the Warehouse, Ruth's mother, ninety-one-year-old Tilly First (played by Yvonne Bryceland in the film) was sitting in front of us. I could only guess at her feelings.

In 1996, without fanfare, both these films were shown on South African television, provoking barely a comment from the media.

The Market's customarily full programme included Amabali - It's Storytime, a magically inventive entertainment written and directed by Janice Honeyman and focusing on African folklore. John Kani directed Winston Ntshona and Mbongeni Ngema, paired for the first time, in a new play called Kagoos. Written by Kessie Govender, the play revolved around the lives of two cleaners in a Durban office block but, although interesting and acted with electrifying conviction, the writing didn't do justice to the ideas. The play was followed by another unique pairing, musical this time, of the groups Sakhile and Bayete in Sounds of Africa. Expatriate Rhodesian playwright David Lan's Flight, focusing on a Jewish family from Lithuania living in Zimbabwe, was directed by Barney Simon for Moyra Fine.

At the Warehouse, the talented Andrew Buckland took the town by storm with The Investigations of an Ugly Noo Noo. Directed by Andrew's wife Janet, this inventive, off-the-wall comedic piece, focused on the ubiquitous 'Parktown Prawn' which was tormenting Johannesburg during the rainy season, began as a short late-night show, then was extended and transferred to the Upstairs in August as, simply, The Ugly Noo Noo. The show later won an Edinburgh Festival 'First' Award. From December, the Warehouse welcomed the return of Sarafina, which played well into 1989 and, at the Upstairs at the Market, Sandra Duncan surpassed herself in - and as - Lillian. In William Luce 's one-woman play, based on the memoirs of writer Lillian Hellman, Sandra gave a breathtakingly skilful performance, fully deserving of its rave reviews and many awards.

In September, poetic justice prevailed when the formidable black writer and director Gibson Kente who had, for so many years, soldiered on with black drama in townships all over the country, was at last given his due recognition. His musical, Sekunjalo, the Naked Hour, a futuristic work set in a post-apartheid South Africa -which, as time was to reveal, was not far away- had provoked much controversy at the Grahamstown Festival. It was then banned in the Ciskei, while, in Potchefstroom, the cast found themselves detained. After all that, it opened on 30 September at, of all places, the Pretoria State Theatre, then transferred for a Johannesburg season at the Alexander.

Pieter Toerien, following his usual Agatha Christie (Peril at End House) and a revue at the Leonard Rayne called It's Getting Harder, with Mark Banks, enjoyed an unqualified triumph with a serious dramatic work which opened in April at the Andre Huguenet. Vladimir Gubartev's Sarcophagus dealt with the horrors of nuclear radiation. The play focused on Bessmerty the Immortal, a man who is taking longer than most to die from fallout, and the sole patient in an isolation clinic until a new intake of Chernobyl victims begins to arrive.

Terrence Shank directed Sarcophagus, in which Jeremy Crutchley's Vita Award-winning performance was miraculous in conveying the suffering and cynical resignation of Bessmerty. Others in the cast of the play, one of the most important of the decade, were Gillian Garlick, Margaret Heale and Ian Steadman.

In the second half of the year, Pieter presented Robert Whitehead and Vanessa Cooke in Dear Love, a play about the courtship of Elizabeth Barrett and Robert Browning, written by Dear Liars Jerome Kilty. Actor John Whiteley turned director for this one. At the Leonard Rayne, Rex Garner directed Tim Plewman, Janet du Plessis, Diane Appleby and Malcolm Terrey in a 'battle of the sexes' comedy called Cahoots, while at the Andre Huguenet, also directed by Rex, Shelagh Holliday and Wilna Snyman co-starred in Legends, a new comedy by my old friend James Kirkwood. The two actresses played ageing stars, deadly enemies, who decide to bury the hatchet in the interests of reviving their careers by co-starring in a play. The bitchy jokes and deliciously camp performances delighted the opening night audience, but the play failed to catch on with the general public.

When Dear Love ended its run, Pieter Toerien entrusted Tobie Cronje, directing for the first time, with the off-Broadway musical hit Nunsense. The opening night of this hilarious tale about a group of nuns who put on a concert to raise money for their burial fund was a rip-roaring success. It was well-directed with an all-star cast- Kate Normington, Natalie Gamsu, Gaby Lomberg, Suanne Braun and Maralin Vanrenen and, full of enthusiasm, I hot-footed it to Pieter's office the next morning to tell him that, in my opinion, this one could run and run and he should exploit it to the full. He took my advice and, beginning with packed houses at the Alhambra, this excellent show played for almost two years, visiting several cities.

A revival of Anthony Shaffer's Sleuth, directed by Pierre van Pletzen with Michael Atkinson and Michael Richard, took over from Legends. Other highlights of the Toerien year included the pairing of Bill Flynn and Jana Cilliers (who would subsequently marry), both nude in the opening scene of Terence McNally's poignant romantic comedy Frankie and Johnny at the Claire de Lune, Tobie Cronje starring as Charley's Aunt in another revival of a perennial favourite and, best of all, Peter Shaffer's new play, Lettice and Lavage, for which Moira Lister returned to star in the role created by Maggie Smith. Paddy Canavan was her co-star.

Over at Sun City, Modern Talking, who had promised to return after their wildly successful 1987 season, did so at Easter to the delight of their thousands of fans, mainly teenage girls. It was the last appearance ever of this group because Thomas Anders and his wife Nora had decided to break away and perform as a duo, but it was a first for M-Net, which had never before transmitted a live performance of an international pop group 'straight from the stage into your lounge'.

At Sun City's Galaxy, Carlo Spetto's show Pussycats was noteworthy in featuring nine beautiful girls who appeared totally nude, only to have spectacularly clever and artistic laser lighting effects, using every trick in the book, conceal those parts of the girls' anatomy the customers had flocked to see! The Superbowl's major success of the year was vocalist Laura Branigan, whose hit song 'Gloria' was one of the longest running singles of the decade. She defied the boycott to appear and, in 1993 returned to tour South Africa, playing the Standard Bank Arena in Johannesburg. The Superbowl also continued with the Wheel of Fortune and boxing tournaments, while its versatility was further demonstrated by the introduction of indoor soccer and speedway racing.

On 1 December the eighth Million Dollar Golf Tournament commenced. The winner-take-all-format of the previous year had caused displeasure among the players so, though retaining the million-dollar first prize, Sol lavishly added prize money for all eight players, with the man placed second taking home $200 000 and the eighth and last $50 000. The surprise winner was Fulton Allem, who beat Don Pooley by one stroke; the other six in the field were Bernard Langer, Mark McNulty, David Frost, Chip Beck, Ian Woosnam and Ken Green.

The four performing arts councils once again collaborated to present the annual musical for the Christmas season. This time they chose Singin' in the Rain, based on the classic MGM movie musical and directed and choreographed by Geoffrey Sutherland with Tim Plewman starring in the Gene Kelly role. PACT once again commissioned Janice Honeyman to write and direct a pantomime. The result was Aladdin, and another smash-hit.

It had been an eventful year, during which Computicket had opened in Port Elizabeth, and I was happy to leave for the Cape, with Graham, in mid-December - in time to attend the opening of Toerien's new theatre. Situated in Camps Bay and named, appropriately, the Theatre on the Bay, its facade sculpted in the shape of draped stage curtains, it had been built on a terrace overlooking the sea - to go there in the setting sun offered a vista seldom found at a theatre anywhere in the world. We took our seats for the opening and, to our surprise and delight, the normally reclusive Pieter came on stage. His appearance brought a standing ovation, as did his pithy speech of welcome. Rex Garner, Tobie Cronje and Sandra Prinsloo then paid tribute in verse to this remarkable impresario, after which the curtain rose on the company of irreverent nuns in their own brand of Nunsense, and the Theatre on the Bay was well and truly launched.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Born in the small mining town of Benoni, South Africa in 1928, Percy Tucker has devoted his life to nurturing and furthering the live arts and entertainment in his native South Africa and, in so doing, has forged mutually productive relationships with creative artists and managements across Europe, Britain and the USA.

The breadth of Percy's interests, ranging from his first love – the theatre – through classical music in all its forms to ballet, modern dance, popular music, variety and spectacle, saw him become an integral figure in the show business industry in his country as advisor, councillor, mentor, organizer, impresario and innovator.

Internationally, he is known, above all, for the founding of Computicket, the world's first fully operative computerized, centralized ticket-booking system, which he introduced in South Africa in 1971. For this concept and its realization, Percy Tucker has been extensively honoured as it changed forever the way tickets for entertainment was marketed worldwide.

Percy's unique combination of passionate commitment to the arts with his commercial vision, business acumen and marketing skills has brought him recognition, love and respect that he never sought, and a richly fulfilling life which he treasures.

Since his official retirement in 1994, Percy has published his autobiography-cum-history of the South African theatre, Just the Ticket! and remains actively involved in the entertainment industry as advisor, lecturer, board member and researcher, and continues to travel the world, ever alert to new horizons.
Percy has received the following awards and accolades during his distinguished career

1976 Marketing Man of the Year by the Institute of Marketing Management, South Africa

1993 The Moyra Fine Vita Award for lifetime contribution to theatre in SA

1994 On his retirement from Computicket he was made Life Patron of Civic Theatre

First 'life friend' of Market Theatre

Further honours by The Star newspaper and Nu Metro Cinema Organisation

1997 Honoured by Computer Week, as perhaps the first business visionary in SA to recognise an opportunity arising from Networking Technology.

1998 Honoured by Box Office Management International (USA)

1999 Rotarian Vocational Service Award for outstanding service to the community in his chosen vocation.

2000 Computicket was included among the Top 100 Best creative ideas of the 20th Century, by The Star newspaper.

2002 Lifetime Achievement Award by Theatre Managements of SA.

2004 Computicket was chosen as one of the top 10 Great South African Inventions Exhibition held at MTN Science centre, Canal Walk, Cape Town. This exhibition also toured South Africa.

2005 Honoured by Rotary International with the 'Paul Harris Fellowship Award', their highest honour for his services nationally and internationally in changing forever the face of the marketing of entertainment.

2007 Fleur de Cap special merit award for Lifetime Contribution to South African Theatre.

