Shit, those were the days.l Those were the days when Athol Fugard was working with a group of black amateur actors, the Serpent Players, under con stant surveillance by the Special Branch of the South African police who, as he says in his Notebooks, “could have taken me away and locked me up for 90 days without any trouble.”2 It was the year when Fugard’s offense-whatever it might have been- against the Group Areas Act was made all the more heinous by Proclamation R26 which extended the Act to cover more efficiently the segregation of races in the theatres of South Africa. The place was packed, man! All the big people. Sophocles In South Africa: Athol Fugard’s T he Islan d Errol Durbach Two Bantu prisoners in their cell on Robben Island recall with nostalgia a memorable performance of Sophocles’ Antigone in a black township near Port Elizabeth, one of South Africa’s industrial seaports on the Indian Ocean: JOHN. In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:
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