Francesco Nassimbeni is a theatre-maker, educator, actor, illustrator, and creative writer living and working in Cape Town. His unique style dips into post-modernist, Bauhaus, poetic, and sculptural practices, resulting in an amalgamation of creative practices held together by the theatrical space.

In preparation for his upcoming production of “The Sun is a Star and We Know What It’s Made Of”, which debuts at TheatreArts from the 15th-19th of January, I interviewed Nassimbeni, discussing his approach to theatre, his creative direction, and his insight into the local theatre scene.

Klara: “I want to start by providing our readers with some context into your professional history and education. What did you study at university?” 

Francesco: I was initially drafted to go to med school (which is so hilarious), but I didn’t even make it through the first week because I was so grossed out by the idea.  I studied Theatre and Performance at the University of Cape Town from 1997-2001. I started by doing two years in the Bachelor of Arts Program, majoring in English literature. Then I realized that I wanted to Theatre and Performance more intensively, and so I transferred over to that, and was streamed into the Theatre Making Program. In its infancy, this was an elective within the Theatre and Performance stream.

K: “How did you transition into the professional space, and how did you make your way to becoming a theatre-maker?”

F: “My first job post-university was as a creative researcher for Ian Gabriel of Giant Films. I was a creative researcher for three years, supporting directors who were making films. 

It was quite a while before I got involved in theatre again. After that I decided I wanted to be an illustrator (not sure where that came from!), and so I worked pretty successfully in the field of illustration. I was always doing a multitude of things with different focuses, but I eventually came back to theatre by way of performing again. My friend Juliet Jenkin had written a play and told me about it. That’s when I recovered acting as something I wanted to do. Once I came back to theatre and performance as a practice, I started to realize/remember that I wanted to direct. It took me a while to get back to the intention of why I wanted to do that. I’m not sure why I didn’t want to do that immediately.

So, I started to direct more earnestly around 2008/2009. I’m not sure what put me off path and what put me on again. It’s a difficult thing to say “I want to direct theatre” in a culture where there are very few opportunities. I think it was situational, me saying, “Nah I’m not going to try that” kind of thing. But then I got quite involved in acting again through Juliette Jenkins production of “The Boy Who Fell Off the Roof”, then started to act in theatre (which was a little bit more robust back then), and then eventually became brave enough to announce to the people I was working with that this is what I wanted to do.

I made my professional debut around 2007 at the Artscape, with Juliette’s second play, “Library”. From there, I knew that this is how I would like to integrate all my concurrent practices of illustration and creative writing, and my interests could cohabit in a way that made sense to me in the vehicle of theatre, instead of trying to separate these things out.”

K: “What are a few projects that you have worked on, and what have been the highlights of those projects. What excites you most about taking on a new project?”

F: “I am drawn to processes where we can approach the question: “What is meaningful to you about this artwork?”. Something along the lines of: “How can I express more directly that which is in me, to the best of my abilities, in order to make sense to myself or resolve something within myself?”. And then hopefully bring about some kind of introspection and meaningful interaction with the self and understanding of the world in this view.

The audience is definitely present in my mind when I make work, but I am also present. So, I think when I feel that I can communicate what is happening internally and bring it to some kind of cogent/coherent substance/form externally, is what draws me to a work. Or some kind of way in which I can engage others in a meaningful act of communication/participation/understanding/community building. I guess I’m trying to allow people to reflect and transform a little bit within themselves or look at themselves more clearly or others more clearly or empathetically. I’m drawn to the ways in which we can become more aware of each other.“

K: “What is your process when taking on/forming a new project? What elements do you focus on and how do you approach the creation of a new work. What practices do you implement to shape this into fruition?”

F: “Of highest interest to me is the quality of the collaborators. I find that when I engage in solo practice, I don’t get anything done. The nature of the collaborations, the effective harmony of people who can and want to support each other, who have common goals, who are interested in each other’s artistic aspirations, who want to collaborate and can collaborate. Not everyone is a natural collaborator anymore. I’ve always worked best within a collective. The quality of the collaborative interactions is key. Because that level of emotional and artistic support is crucial.”

K: “You have just written a new play called “The Sun is a Star and We Know What It’s Made Of”, which is performing at Theatre Arts in January.  How did you move this play from a series of scribbles into an established project that you are in the process of directing and producing?”

F: “It was realizing that since it is never an empirically good time to make theatre, you might as well just do it now. To me, making theatre in the conditions that we do is an act of pure stubbornness. It is with stubborn gladness that we address this monumental task. Theatre-makers are practicing this artform in a cultural situation that doesn’t allow. That there is so much theatre available to us in Cape Town is a testament to the generosity of the theatre-makers, who make work under conditions that anyone else would consider impossible, ludicrous.

I’ve been wanting to make work for a long time, and I haven’t made work in a long time. I was giving a lot of credence to concerns around what it would achieve, or just wondering; “why bother?”. Coming up with a million reasons as to why one oughtn’t to. Which are real concerns. I had a meeting with my friend Caroline Calburn, the director of TheatreArts, where I was expressing frustrations about trying to keep everything together. Just discussing the various disappointments that much of art making is beset by. But you can’t stop because of them (although it’s easy to stop and say:“Whatever, I’m not going to try this anymore”). 

But Caroline asked me where I wanted to be, and I said that I wanted to be in a rehearsal. I’ve been missing a process that is embodied and prolonged. In this world where everything is achieved without process, I am trying to counteract this and carve out space where people can spend time together creating something that is reflective of themselves. Carving out space for co-creation with the specific intention of allowing that to happen.I wanted to return to what attracted me to theatrical production: uninterrupted time spent with people. An antidote to the culture of distraction and detachment. I wanted to be present, and I think theatre is a great way to facilitate being present.“

K: “What do you find most difficult when handling a project?”

F: The multiple roles that the independent theatre director will likely be managing when in production. Even when things are professionally done, the director is often handling multiple roles. Everyone is doing the job of many people. When making work, you end up having to think like the producer, stage manager, and do your own marketing. I think this all takes away from what is important to me. Doing the work which conflicts with the director being fully present. But part of it is also not fighting it or worrying about it too much. But one does. This worry impacts on being present.