IN CONVERSATION WITH MXOLISI "THE GREAT" MASILELA
SATURDAY EDITION | ARTS, CULTURE & COMMUNITY SPOTLIGHT
Why Spotlight on Tembisa Theatre Week? Why a Conversation with Mxolisi “The Great” Masilela?
Because sometimes the most powerful cultural revolutions do not begin in boardrooms or capital cities — they are born in communities, shaped by visionaries, and sustained by relentless belief in the power of the arts.
Under the capable and visionary leadership of Mxolisi “The Great” Masilela, CEO & Artistic Director of TX Theatre, the Moses Molelekwa Arts Centre in Tembisa has been transformed into far more than a local venue. It has evolved into a recognised and respected theatre space with international presence, proving that world-class theatre does not require world-class privilege — only world-class vision and execution.
Tembisa Theatre Week has since grown into a vibrant hub of theatrical excellence, a meeting point for practitioners, audiences, and communities to experience the kind of bold, honest and innovative theatre that defines the future of the theatre circuit in South Africa.
Mxolisi “The Great” Masilela is not only a dreamer — he is a builder of dreams. Together with a committed and dynamic team, he has ignited a movement that has inspired other communities to imagine — and establish — their own theatre weeks.
What started as an idea has become a revolution rooted in community ownership, artistic excellence and cultural pride.
This spotlight is not just about a festival.
It is about leadership, legacy and what becomes possible when culture is taken seriously at community level.
Image: Mxolisi Masilela (Source: Mxolisi Masilela )
Looking back over the past decade, how has Tembisa Theatre Week contributed to reshaping the narrative of township theatre in South Africa?
Tembisa Theatre Week has functioned as a living laboratory: a space for testing, experimenting, and discovering authentic stories rooted in lived township realities.
It has allowed artists to take risks without the pressure to conform to institutional or commercial expectations, resulting in work that is honest, daring, and deeply grounded.
Through this process, the platform has nurtured voices that might otherwise have remained unseen or unheard. The festival has given rise to seminal works such as Stevovo the Puppeteer, These Are Not My Shoes, Behind Van Veuren’s Farm, and Prayers, among others.
These productions have fundamentally shifted perceptions of township theatre from being seen as informal or under-resourced to being recognised as intellectually rigorous, aesthetically bold, and nationally significant.
They have unveiled uncomfortable truths, complex identities, and sophisticated storytelling practices that challenge dominant narratives within South African theatre.
In doing so, Tembisa Theatre Week has not only amplified township voices but has also expanded the national theatre canon. It has proven that some of the country’s most powerful and transformative theatre emerges from the township, reshaping the cultural landscape and asserting its rightful place at the centre of South African theatre practice.
What does it mean for a festival rooted in Tembisa to survive, grow, and reach its 10th year within the current cultural and funding climate?
Is a powerful testament to collective resilience and shared ownership. It is evidence of a community that has built something brick by brick often without guarantees, but with deep commitment, trust, and belief in one another.
This longevity reflects not an individual achievement, but a collective dream carried and protected by artists in and around Tembisa.
Reaching ten years means that the festival has become a home: a stable space where artists can gather, experiment, fail, learn, and try again together until a shared goal is reached.
In a sector marked by precarity, shrinking resources, and uneven access to funding, this kind of continuity is rare and deeply significant. It affirms the importance of place, consistency, and community-led leadership in sustaining artistic practice.
More importantly, it signals that a small but meaningful ecosystem has been built one where creation, presentation, dialogue, and audience development coexist.
It proves that sustainability is possible when a community comes together with purpose, imagination, and care. In this sense, the survival and growth of the festival is not only a celebration of ten years, but a model of what is possible when culture is rooted in community and nurtured collectively.
In what ways has the festival created platforms for emerging voices, particularly young artists, women, and practitioners from marginalized communities?
The festival has created platforms for emerging voices by intentionally centering access, trust, and opportunity, especially for young artists, women, and practitioners from marginalized communities.
From its inception, it has operated with an open-door ethos, prioritising artists who work outside formal institutions and who are often excluded from mainstream funding, training, and presentation platforms.
This has made the festival a first point of entry into professional theatre practice for many. Practically, the festival has offered space before status providing venues, rehearsal rooms, audiences, and time to experiment without demanding polished outcomes.
Young artists are encouraged to test ideas, take creative risks, and learn through doing.
Women artists, in particular, have been supported as directors, writers, choreographers, and producers, not as exceptions but as central contributors shaping the artistic vision of the festival.
Their leadership and narratives have been foregrounded rather than sidelined. The festival has also functioned as a bridge between the margins and the centre.
By inviting programmers, curators, critics, and established practitioners into Tembisa, it has created visibility and pathways for artists whose work might otherwise remain unseen.
Through mentorship by proximity, peer exchange, and repeat participation, artists grow alongside the festival.
In this way, the platform is not only about showcasing work, but about building confidence, agency, and long-term artistic careers rooted in community, dignity, and self-determined storytelling.
This year the festival honours Mpho Molepo — how would you describe his influence and legacy within theatre practice, arts administration, and institutional development?
Mpho Molepo is a giant in the cultural sector, yet his influence has not been celebrated or honoured to the extent that it deserves.
His contribution to theatre practice, arts administration, and institutional development has been foundational in shaping the ecosystem many of us work within today.
He is one of those rare practitioners whose impact is felt not only through the work he made, but through the structures he built and the doors he opened for others.
Personally, Mpho has been more than a colleague; he has been a brother.
My introduction to alternative theatre spaces came directly through one of his most robust and visionary initiatives, his work around alternative spaces.
That project fundamentally shifted how many of us imagined where theatre could live and who it could serve.
It challenged the dominance of traditional institutions and validated township-based, independent, and community-rooted spaces as legitimate sites of artistic excellence.
The existence and rise of The TX Theatre, alongside many other alternative spaces in townships, can be traced back to the groundwork Mpho laid.
He modelled a way of thinking that combined artistic rigor with administrative intelligence and institutional courage.
His legacy lives in the sustainability of these spaces, in the confidence of artists who now build their own platforms, and in a sector that is slowly learning to decentralise power.
Honouring Mpho Molepo is not symbolic, it is long overdue recognition of a visionary who helped shape the theatre landscape we now inhabit.
What key lessons can emerging arts managers and practitioners learn from Mpho Molepo’s leadership, discipline, and long-term vision?
Emerging arts managers and practitioners can learn profound and practical lessons from Mpho Molepo’s leadership, discipline, and long-term vision.
First and foremost, his work teaches the importance of thinking structurally, not just creatively. Mpho understood that strong artistic practice must be supported by solid administration, clear systems, and sustainable institutions.
He showed that visionary ideas only endure when they are matched with discipline, planning, and accountability. Another key lesson is patience and long-term commitment.
Mpho did not chase quick recognition or short-term wins. He invested in slow, often invisible work—building relationships, developing spaces, and nurturing people over time.
His leadership reminds emerging practitioners that real impact is measured in decades, not seasons. Mpho’s approach also teaches the value of decentralising power.
He believed in creating access beyond traditional centres, affirming alternative and township-based spaces as vital cultural sites. Rather than waiting for permission, he built platforms and encouraged others to do the same, fostering self-determination within the sector.
I mean, his leadership was grounded in generosity and mentorship. He led by example, sharing knowledge, opening doors, and trusting others with responsibility.
For emerging arts managers, Mpho Molepo’s legacy is a reminder that leadership is not about visibility or control, but about building pathways that outlive you and ecosystems that allow others to rise.
How does Tembisa Theatre Week function as a living archive — preserving stories, practices, and community memory across generations?
Tembisa Theatre Week functions as a living archive by holding, activating, and passing on stories, practices, and community memory through embodied performance rather than static records.
In a context where township histories are often undocumented or erased, the festival becomes a site where memory is performed, witnessed, and renewed year after year.
Each production, workshop, and conversation adds another layer to an evolving archive shaped by lived experience. The festival preserves stories by creating space for artists to tell narratives rooted in personal, familial, and communal histories.
These stories are not treated as nostalgia, but as urgent knowledge, about land, labour, migration, spirituality, gender, and survival.
As works return in new forms or inspire future creations, memory is carried forward, transformed, and reinterpreted by new generations of artists and audiences. Practices are archived through repetition and transmission.
Young artists observe, participate, and later lead, learning not only performance techniques but also ways of organising, producing, and sustaining work in resource-constrained environments.
The festival models alternative methods of theatre-making, collaborative, adaptive, and community-driven, that are absorbed through doing rather than instruction.
Most importantly, Tembisa Theatre Week archives community memory by gathering people in the same place over time. Elders, emerging practitioners, audiences, and children share space, language, and ritual.
The continuity of the festival allows relationships to deepen and histories to remain present. In this way, the archive lives in bodies, voices, and shared moments.
Rather than storing memory in boxes or databases, Tembisa Theatre Week keeps memory alive through encounter. It is an archive that breathes, moves, and speaks, ensuring that township knowledge is not only preserved, but continually made relevant, visible, and powerful across generations
What role does theatre continue to play in fostering social cohesion, healing, and dialogue within township communities today?
Theatre continues to play a vital role in fostering social cohesion, healing, and dialogue within township communities by creating shared spaces where people can gather, reflect, and speak honestly about their lived realities.
In contexts shaped by historical trauma, economic inequality, and ongoing social pressures, theatre offers a collective language through which communities can process pain, memory, and hope together.
Within township settings, the theatre functions as a mirror and a meeting point. It reflects everyday experiences of family conflict, loss, identity, faith, gender, and survival while bringing diverse generations and perspectives into the same room.
This shared witnessing builds empathy and understanding, reminding communities that individual struggles are often collective ones. Through storytelling, people see themselves and one another more clearly.
Theatre also acts as a tool for healing by allowing difficult conversations to happen safely. On stage, unspeakable truths can be explored without accusation, opening pathways for dialogue rather than division.
Performances often become catalysts for post-show discussions, where audiences engage, disagree, and listen, strengthening a culture of communication and critical thought.
Importantly, theatre in township communities is not only about content but about presence.
The simple act of gathering, sitting together, breathing together, responding together rebuilds trust and a sense of belonging. It affirms that community is still possible
Today, theatre remains a space of resistance and care. It challenges silence, honours lived experience, and insists on dignity. In doing so, it continues to weave social bonds, nurture healing, and sustain meaningful dialogue within township communities.
How has the relationship between the festival, theatre practitioners, and local audiences evolved over the 10 years of Tembisa Theatre Week?
Over the past ten years, the relationship between Tembisa Theatre Week, theatre practitioners, and local audiences has grown from one of introduction to one of deep mutual ownership.
In the early years, the festival was about building trust—introducing theatre as a shared community experience and inviting audiences to engage with work that reflected their realities. Attendance was driven by curiosity and proximity.
As the festival matured, practitioners began returning consistently, developing work in dialogue with the same community year after year.
This continuity allowed artists to take greater creative risks, knowing that audiences were not just spectators but active participants in the meaning-making process.
Local audiences, in turn, became more discerning, engaged, and invested, offering feedback, challenging narratives, and shaping the evolution of the work. Today, the relationship is reciprocal and interdependent.
Audiences see the festival as their own, while practitioners view Tembisa as a vital site of research, reflection, and accountability.
The festival has become a shared cultural ritual one that belongs equally to artists and the community—strengthening trust, relevance, and a sense of collective pride over a decade of sustained exchange.
As the festival looks toward its next decade, what new artistic forms, collaborations, or innovations are essential for its sustainability and relevance?
As Tembisa Theatre Week looks toward its next decade, sustainability and relevance will depend on its ability to evolve while remaining deeply rooted in the community.
Expanding artistic forms is essential embracing interdisciplinary work that brings theatre into conversation with music, dance, ritual, digital storytelling, and visual art.
These hybrid forms reflect how stories are currently lived and shared, especially by younger generations who have grown with the festival.
New collaborations will be equally critical. The festival itself has grown alongside its practitioners and audiences, and today those audiences come not only from Tembisa but from across the region and beyond.
Building partnerships with schools, community organisations, independent spaces, and international networks can strengthen skills exchange while protecting local ownership.
Collaboration must be based on equity, not extraction. Innovation in production and access is also key. Low-cost touring models, site-specific work, documentation as creative practice, and alternative audience engagements can widen reach without increasing financial strain.
Ultimately, the festival’s future lies in remaining a living laboratory—one that listens, adapts, and experiments—while holding firmly to its core values of authenticity, community, and artistic courage.
The theme “Woz’bloma nathi – We celebrate our own” carries deep meaning. What does this statement mean in practice, and how can South Africa better honour its cultural workers while they are still alive?
“Woz’bloma nathi – We celebrate our own” is a call to shift from symbolic recognition to active, living practice.
In practice, it means acknowledging the value of cultural workers while they are still present, working, and contributing not only when they are no longer here to witness the impact of their labour.
It is about respect in real time: fair pay, visibility, care, and sustained support. The statement challenges South Africa’s tendency to honour artists too late. To celebrate our own means investing in people’s work, institutions, and ideas while they are still growing.
It means commissioning work, creating long-term partnerships, and trusting cultural workers with leadership and resources. It also means documenting their contributions, inviting them into mentorship roles, and learning from their lived knowledge before it is lost.
At a community level, the phrase speaks to ownership and pride. It urges us to recognise excellence in our own spaces, townships, rural areas, and alternative venues without waiting for external validation.
Celebration becomes an everyday act, embedded in programming, storytelling, and how we show up for one another.
For South Africa to better honour its cultural workers, we must build systems of care, recognition, and sustainability. “Woz’bloma nathi” is a call for unity and presence, an invitation to stand together and be one.
It reminds us that flowers must be given while people can still smell them: through real action, sustained commitment, and genuine appreciation. It urges us to value and honour one another now, not only with applause after the fact.
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