A Man of Good Hope

based on the book by Jonny Steinberg

seen at the Linbury Theatre, Covent Garden on 1 May 2019

I'm placing this in the opera blog because it is presented in the studio theatre of Covent Garden, but it could equally be in the theatre blog, as it was first seen in London at the Young Vic. Isango Ensemble under their artistic director Mark Dornford May prepared the work with musical direction by Mandisi Dyantyis and Paulina Malefane.

A cast of actors, singers and musicians takes us through the twenty-year journey of Assad from war-torn Somalia in 1991 to South Africa in 2011 when he meets Jonny Steinberg who constructs the book from a long interview process. The story is horrifying, poignant, and often deeply disturbing: we start with the seven-year-old Assad witnessing the murder of his mother during the civil unrest in Somalia, and follow his refugee existence in various African countries as he builds fragile family relationships, all too often to see them collapse again as conflicting loyalties prove too strong, bureaucratic strictures damage them, or sheer prejudice leads to too much danger. 

The story is presented with vibrant musical accompaniment, its varying styles representing the different cultures encountered by Assad, from the proud Somali clannishness (a constant refrain of immense dignity even under the most appalling stress; but also a source of unending tension and strife), to the refugee camps in Kenya, and the townships in South Africa. One perhaps has some idea of the privations of refugee camps, and some familiarity in dramatic terms with the faceless and apparently arbitrary cruelty of aid bureaucracy (summed up hear by the constant refusal of emigration papers, or the unpredictable nod through or denial by passport control officers). But I found it quite shocking to realise how much prejudice Somalis face no matter where they are; they are very much resented in the black townships of South Africa even as the 'rainbow nation' is trying to create itself.

The production is brilliant at conveying the picaresque nature of the story, and managing the swings of fortune and mood from optimism to despair. The young boy Assad is at times utterly downcast and at others full of irrepressible energy and confidence (learning to speak 'American' is particularly amusing); later the young man tries to be responsible but is still all too often at the mercy of circumstance - no amount of 'growing up' can prepare one to deal with violent aggression.

The music is great, the narrative style, switching between dialogue, exposition, and song, the song often not in English but its content generally clear from the context, is extremely successful at revealing the chaotic and violent world in which a man may still find grounds for good hope.