Documentary film on my mom, May Abrahamse

On Saturday 30 April, I went along to Artscape Theatre Complex, to watch a documentary film on the music career of my mother, May Abrahamse, one of the leading sopranos of the Eoan Group. It was shown at the Suidoosterfees, an annual arts festival held in Cape Town's city centre. To my delight, the screenings (Saturday and Sunday) were free to the public.

Commissioned by KykNet (Afrikaans television channel) in +- 2012, it was directed by documentary filmmaker, Lisba Vosloo. She was also the director of the 2013 Afrikaans doccie, entitled "Eoan 80 - Ode Aan Die Opera-era", telling the story of the Eoan Group, in its 80th year. Also commissioned by KykNet, it told the Eoan story tastefully, the skill and thoroughness of the filmmaker ensuring that all the important elements were addressed, including the contentious political space occupied by this cultural organisation, which was established specifically for "Coloured" people.

On Saturday, my heart was almost bursting with pride, as the rather small venue filled to capacity, and then needed extra chairs to be brought in. But what made my heart soar was the fact that sitting next to me was my sister, Wendy, and next to her was my mom, aged 85. I have to admit, in the years that the film was being made, I prayed my mom would be alive to see it. What a privilege to be sitting there with her, watching the film which told her life story the way it did. And to be sitting next to Wendy, my only sibling and the other person who knew and loved my mom the way I did.

Her story could have been presented as a list of dates and events, but it wasn't. Lisba is indeed an exceptional biographer. Her attention to detail is phenomenal. The end product - of about four years of research, of filming (by cameraman Mark Degenaar), of interviewing, of going back to the drawing board and adding more aspects, of scouting and filming at new locations relevant to my mom's life - was such a beautiful and moving tribute, that almost everyone present had to wipe away tears, when the lights went on. 

(Added, later: the four years included Lisba's work on the first Eoan doccie.)

The fact that the soundtrack of the film was made up of different recordings of my mom, over the years, from her 20s well into her 50s, made a huge impact on everyone. She was truly a world-class opera singer, whose career was severely restricted by the racist apartheid system in South Africa. 

Lisba managed to fit in so much detail, so many special moments, so many photos, all with so much sensitivity and respect, that it was hard for me to decide what was more profound - having watched a film on my mother's life, or having watched a piece of art by someone so gifted in her field. Needless to say, the combination of the two is what makes me, even today, three days later, feel my heart skip a beat at the memory of the experience.

I plan to write a lot more about this, but right now I'm using my lunch break to get these thoughts out. Before I go, I have to say a few more things. Firstly, in the room with us, besides my mom's grandchildren, were quite a few of my cousins, from both my parents' sides, and it was wonderful to have shared that first viewing with them. Secondly, the narrator was my friend of 40 years, actress Sandi Schultz, who's known my mom for as long as she's known me. How magical to listen to her velvety voice  tell the story of my mother's life!

And, finally, what made the whole experience so poignant was the fact that my mom, who turns 86 on 6 May, has Alzheimer's Disease. After the show, when we all went for drinks, feeling warm and fuzzy after our shared experience, she kept asking why we were there. Every time we told her, she was surprised. She was diagnosed with Amnestic Syndrome in 2012, and with Alzheimer's, a year later.  Even though she had been quiet and attentive throughout the film, even catching some of the humour (I love the way Lisba managed to keep it real by including bits of humour, such a big part of who my mom's always been), she had no recollection of having watched the film, as soon as it was over. We're used to it now. 

And FINALLY finally - my strongest personal response to the movie was realising just how much my mom had changed, as a result of the Alzheimer's. In the film, there was archival footage of interviews with her, and there was my mom, strong and outspoken, speaking with conviction and passion, her body upright, like a dancer. It took my breath away. I realised that that person was no longer with us. I realised that we'd said goodbye, without having said goodbye. Speaking to my children afterwards, I realised that they didn't even know that person.

I realised how much I missed that person - my mom.

I went back, the next day, to watch the film again, and to see that person again - my mom, May Abrahamse.  

   My mom & I at Radio Kaap se Punt, in 2014, where I had the honour of interviewing her live on air.