diannetippingwoods

Written for and published in Indwe Magazine, March 2007

They were performing together in the back row of the chorus of a production of the Vagabond King at Wits University. “Dawn was a barefoot flower child, in painting smocks with hair down to her waist”, Des remembers, “and Des looked like a Viking and sang folks songs, and had a captivating smile”, adds Dawn. Thus began one of South Africa’s most enduring personal and professional partnerships. Des and Dawn Lindberg are entering their fifth decade together, in an industry known for its personal and professional break-ups.

As I sit chatting with them on a warm summer’s evening at their Park Town North home, I can’t help but think of their lives together as an on going fairy tale of sorts, with Des and Dawn in the starring roles, and I wonder what has made it work?

They officially began their life together when they married in 1965, and it was a life filled from the start with song, passion and political awareness. Their shared perspective on the world, and complimentary professional skills naturally compelled them to seek out the stage as a platform to express political and artistic ideals, “and we were idealistic”, says Dawn, “we traveled the sub continent in a caravan for three years, with our two cats, singing our folks songs, entertaining at the Troubadour in Noordt Street (a coffee bar/shop which Des managed for 4 years) and searching for a way to make a difference to South Africa’s political landscape”.

For Des and Dawn, Apartheid was the villain in the early chapters of their story. After seeing a production of Godspell in Rhodesia (now Zimbabwe), the couple knew they had found the perfect vehicle from which to make a strong stand against the country’s racial laws. They obtained the Rights and staged Godspell as a multi racial production that would directly challenge the group areas act. “That was part of our shared vision”, says Dawn, “not just to sing, but to make a difference”.

After taking on the Publications Control Board with a successful Supreme Court case to challenge the banning of Godspell they produced Pippin, also with a multiracial cast, and then opened The Black Mikado at Diepkloof Hall in Soweto, always fighting determinedly for the rights of theatre managements and actors countrywide, contesting bannings, and often clashing with security police. And doing it together.

As well as remaining married when so many other showbiz couples don’t, Des and Dawn have remained politically involved over the years. Des turned down invitations to stand for parliament on nine occasions, “simply because I didn’t see myself on the back benches”, he says, but “our contributions through our music and art provided, and continue to provide, a more appropriate platform for social and political issues”.

Juxtaposed with the strong political ethos of these years is the innocent magic of Unicorn’s Spiders and Dragons Tales, a wonderful mix of fantasy and humor, which is just a popular today as it was in 1968.

In the 70’s, Des and Dawn began their family, “having children is just incomparable to anything”, says Des. Images of love and laughter fill the house. “Family has always been so important”, says Dawn. She comes from a large family of seven children, while Des was an only child. “He loved all the excitement and madness of my family” says Dawn, laughing. “And Dawn wasn’t used to anyone paying as much attention to her as I did” chips in Des, “so it worked both ways”. Their two sons are both married now “and my plans to write more original children’s stuff has quite a lot to do with the prospect of Grandchildren”, Des smiles.

The eighties was a decade of turbulence and enchanted evenings. While South Africa’s political future churned restlessly along towards democracy, Des and Dawn hosted what were well known as their Sunday “soirees” in the Houghton home they lived in for 35 years. They filled this house with extraordinary people and extraordinary talent. Johnny Clegg, Sipho Mchunu, John Kani and Winston Ntshona first performed publicly on their ‘stage’, along with many others, in a celebration of South African artists, music and creativity. And still the marriage stayed strong.

As we talk our way into the nineties, where highlights include performing for Madiba and FW de Klerk at the Newsmaker of the year Awards, Dawn pauses, “I’m constantly surprised that we’ve been able to sustain ourselves in a very difficulty industry with no subsidy from anybody really, no sponsorship, no management”, she laughs, “I’m surprised and grateful and humble for our life together”.

Through all of Dawn’s sophistication and experience, this moment of reflection conveys a genuine sense of wonder. And Des is warm, supportive and proud. “I can never believe she’s stayed with me all these years”, he teases.

They are relaxed and unstudied, and I tell them how comfortable I feel talking to them. “I think that’s part of why the brand works” says Dawn, “People have been able to relate to use, we like talking to people, and this has always served us well”.

Their golden world is ruled by a stubborn practicality. They’re down to earth and organized and ambitious. Their success comes as much from hard work, intelligent decisions and determination as it does from talent. “To survive, we’ve just had to re-invent ourselves; we’ve worked at it”, says Dawn.

This constant re-invention manifests itself in their marriage too. “It’s constantly been like that” say Des, “Dawn surprises me, she produces the most beautiful graphic works and then- the tap dancing!” he exclaims. “Last year I came home one day and Dawn was in front of the stove, cooking dinner and going tap tap tap. She said ‘I’ve been cast in Peter Toerien’s Show, Stepping Out, and I’ve got to learn to tap dance’. So she did”.
“Des can’t dance, sadly”, laughs Dawn, “that’s been the biggest disappointment of my marriage”. The banter continues and they comfortably interrupt each other, stop to laugh, correct, contradict and encourage each other. They have always had the same values, and seem to share an endless energy, an honesty, and a sense of hope that the future is always a bright one, so long as you can sing and dance and paint, love, have fun and work with passion and integrity.

There’s a roast chicken cooking in the oven, and props from Dawn’s latest project, “The Good Body” by Eve Ensler (of Vagina Monologues fame) scattered around. Ensler specifically requested that Dawn direct her new play, which runs from the 1 to 31 March at the Liberty Life Theatre on the Square. “It’s going to be great fun” Dawn laughs, “and I’ve a wonderful, cheeky and talented cast of Lizz Meiring, Anne Power and Esmeralda Bihl”.

As Executive Director Dawn is also busy with the Naledi Theatre Awards, held on the 19 of February and Des is talking about writing a book, possibly two.

Then there’s Dawn’s painting, “which she has to pursue”, says Des, “and Des’s writing”, he’s got an extraordinary talent” says Dawn, “oh, and of course, a couple of grand children…please Josh and Zee, and Adam and Andi!”

Their love story seems suspended in the “happily ever after stage” as they continue to support each, respect each other and love each other, while they casually dispense art, light, music, dance and drama, as though scattering fairy dust through the decades, and into people’s hearts.

“Perhaps extraordinary begins with ordinary” I think, as I imagine them sitting down with their roast chicken and a glass of wine, this dancing flower child and her Viking, who still sings folks songs, and plays the guitar.

Once upon a time, at the heady dawn of a decade of flower power, political activism, hippies and bell bottoms, a beautiful young artist and dancer met a handsome blonde law student who played the guitar.