‘It’s always been on my vision board to retire when I’m at my peak’: Gregory Maqoma

Mist blankets the Johannesburg skyline on the evening after Gregory Maqoma’s opening performance at the Market Theatre.

The ominous weather is reminiscent of the tales the award-winning dancer-choreographer heard as a young boy growing up in Soweto, and in particular the 150-year-old tale of Chief Jongumsobomvu Maqoma, the subject of his solo dance composition Exit/Exist.

We meet Maqoma before opening night. He’s rehearsing at a dance studio in Newtown, opposite the Market Theatre.

He takes a deep breath, wipes the sweat dripping from his forehead and says: “I was around 10 years old when I first heard the story. My grandmother from my father’s side used to tell me the story all the time.

I realised at that point that their dance was not that of the euphoria, of the feel-good. It was the dance of their own trauma and communicating their own trauma

“I thought it was a myth because it was too good to be true. The things he said and how his bones were fetched from Robben Island, and how she was there and there was a big storm, and they had to go by boat. I thought it was a fairy tale, but I liked it.”   

He later did some research and learnt his grandmother’s bedtime tales were true. For years the story haunted him.

The tale of Jongumsobomvu Maqoma dates back to the 19th century, when as chief and commander of the Xhosa forces he faced colonial oppression. Maqoma witnessed the gathering clouds of British imperialism looming over his ancestral lands. As the storm intensified, with colonial forces advancing further into Xhosa territory, Maqoma's people endured a relentless onslaught of dispossession, violence and cultural erosion. 

Chief Maqoma became a steadfast leader, navigating treacherous waters to protect his people. In the devastating so-called Xhosa Wars, he stood resolute, leading his warriors against the encroaching British forces.

The turbulent skies mirrored his inner turmoil as he witnessed the land he loved torn to pieces. Captured in 1858, he was twice imprisoned on Robben Island. During his second stint in 1873, at the age of 73, he died of old age and neglect.

Maqoma's Exit/Exist tribute to him is more than just a story; it’s a message to political leaders, a tribute to his ancestors and a celebration of his legacy.

“It's through my ancestral existence that I am able to exist. But it's through my ancestor Chief Jongumsobomvu Maqoma’s exit that I was able to find his story. So his exit gave birth to this human being — I was born 100 years after his death.

“This year marks 150 years since his passing; it's my 50th anniversary. There are so many things to celebrate around his legacy, but also around my legacy. So I'm taking both for them to coexist in this piece,” Maqoma says.

Topping celebrations is Maqoma's retirement from the stage. Exit/Exist is on at the Market Theatre until Sunday, after which Maqoma heads to the National Arts Festival in Makhanda, Eastern Cape, for a final performance.

First performed in 2011, the production is a mesmerising collaboration with fashion designer David Tlale, singer-composer Simphiwe Dana, a male a cappella quartet and James Ngcobo. Through choreography and ritualistic performance, Maqoma delves deep into his heritage. 

His retirement will mark a transition in a 33-year love affair. Amid the uncertainty of the 1980s, when an oppressive regime loomed large, dance became Maqoma's refuge.

At weekends he was drawn to the performances of migrant workers at a hostel near his home. He marvelled at their sweat-soaked, chiselled bodies and the sheer power of their movements.

In those moments, a flame ignited within him, one that was fanned in 1990 when he began formal dance training at Moving Into Dance.

While studying the anthropology and history of dance at the institution, Maqoma remembered the migrant workers from his childhood. It was then that he started developing his unique style of dance.

“I realised at that point that their dance was not that of the euphoria, of the feel-good. It was the dance of their own trauma and communicating their own trauma, and the dance of them being displaced and wanting to survive the harsh realities that they were facing living in those compounds, going underground, digging for diamonds that they would never own,” Maqoma says. 

Then, in 1999, while on a scholarship at the Performing Arts Research and Training School (Parts) in Belgium, Maqoma realised he had to be part of the changing artistic landscape in South Africa.

He questioned how he could use dance to channel his trauma and as a weapon to reclaim his story. As he developed as a dancer, he also grappled with questions around identity, social justice and culture. This gave birth to Vuyani Dance Theatre (VDT).

I realised at that point that their dance was not that of the euphoria, of the feel-good. It was the dance of their own trauma and communicating their own trauma, and the dance of them being displaced and wanting to survive the harsh realities that they were facing living in those compounds, going underground, digging for diamonds that they would never own

This bold endeavour would become a powerful vehicle for showcasing African talent globally. Maqoma's commitment to VDT is the reason he’s retiring from performing.

“It's always been on my vision board to retire when I’m at my peak, when I feel like I have absolutely nothing else to fight for. But most importantly, to give myself time to focus on the development programmes I have aligned myself with.

The work I’m doing with Vuyani Dance Theatre is incredible and I want to focus on that and give more young dancers an opportunity to really craft their careers.” 

Watching Maqoma dance during the rehearsal is an indescribable, spiritual experience. His melodic foot-tapping, powerful leaps and graceful arabesques are testament that he is at his peak.

As the male quartet delivers bone-chilling harmonies, Maqoma’s chiselled body effortlessly responds.   

Moving across the dance floor, he appears to be in a trance, later admitting that the production requires him to connect deeply with his ancestors.

So much so that this extends to his home, where he burns candles and has committed to eating only home-cooked meals for the duration of the production.

This work has toured extensively, captivating audiences in the US, France, the UK, the Netherlands, Greece, Australia and Belgium, but the advantage of being at home is that he has more control over what he eats.

Maqoma laughs, saying the trickiest place to tour in terms of healthy food is the US.

But after three decades of travelling the world, he eventually discovered a healthy food hack.

“In America it is difficult to find good food because it's full of fast foods. There's pizza on every corner. So one thing that I've learnt to do over the years is to look for a vegetarian or vegan place. Then I’m guaranteed a decent meal of some sort,” he says.   

There’s a particular US tour that is forever etched in Maqoma’s heart. Not because of the standing ovations or rave reviews.

While there in 2008 he received news that his father had died. Maqoma immediately cancelled the tour and returned home to bury him. He pauses, his smile fading for the first time during the interview.

“Not having enough time to say goodbye to my father is my biggest regret. He passed away when I was away and we were just rebuilding our relationship. It’s something that I always think about. I wish I had that time. I had questions and I’m sure he had questions too, but we never had time to confront each other,” he says.    

As the eldest of three sons, his father had Maqoma’s future planned. His son was to be a doctor who played soccer as a hobby. Instead, from as early as his preteen years, the boy took a liking to dance, even putting on shows in which he mimicked Tina Turner and Michael Jackson.

In the 1990s, as a young adult, Maqoma tried to appease his father and got a job at an insurance company after completing a full-time course at Moving Into Dance. His corporate stint was short-lived and soon he returned to dance.

“Being in that corporate environment for two years, I was miserable. It was the worst time of my life and it's when I realised that dance gave me life. It’s dance that made me wake up in the morning and want to do it over and over again.”

With that realisation, he resigned and delved deeper into the world of dance. Despite his father not fully supporting his career, there was a single occasion at a family gathering when he proudly introduced Maqoma as “my son, the dancer”.

The two shared a special relationship and it was his father who instilled in him an appreciation for jazz. As a boy, only his father could get him to laugh.

To the world he is Gregory, but at home he is “boy boy”, a nickname coined by his father. Maqoma’s laugh echoes through the empty dance studio as he shares the story behind the nickname.

“My mom says I was a moody child, so I didn't smile a lot. My father would always try to make me smile and calling me ‘boy boy’ was his way of doing that, so the name stayed with me.”

Tales of a moody Maqoma sound fictitious — his laugh is infectious, his smile bright. Even during the rehearsal, he jokes with the quartet, quipping: “If we crash, we crash, but let’s fail with confidence.”

Being in that corporate environment for two years, I was miserable. It was the worst time of my life and it's when I realised that it is dance that gave me life. It’s dance that made me wake up in the morning and want to do it over and over again

Jokes aside, Maqoma is a self-proclaimed slave-driver and perfectionist, but as much as he demands discipline from himself and his dancers, he understands his role is to develop, nurture and celebrate young talent.   

This is what his retirement is about and it’s a decision he says he’s never been more sure of.

It was recently affirmed when VDT performed Cion: Requiem of Ravel's Boléro, another of Maqoma’s works.

Sitting in the audience, Maqoma was overwhelmed by the response.   

“I listened to the audience response to the first note, which is a cry, a lament. And when an audience goes uhm hm hmm or ooef, and every moment [of the piece brought] an immediate response, I said to myself: 'This is what it's about.' That moment was like, this is it, this is what I want, I want to make work [that's] responded to,” he says.

Over the years, with every tour, every production, Maqoma has fallen more deeply in love with dance, making his legs his most prized possessions.

His journey from Soweto to dance icon is testament to his unwavering spirit, resilience and unyielding pursuit of artistic excellence. With every movement he defies expectations, breaks barriers and captivates audiences. 

“I've gone deeper and deeper into loving dance. I feel that dance is beyond passion. It's what has created my survival and changed my family setting. And it's through this dance that I'm able to empower others to go away and say they are able to own something.”

While his accomplishments have taken him to illustrious stages worldwide, Gregory Maqoma remains deeply rooted in his mission to nurture and inspire emerging dancers in South Africa.

As a mentor, director and scriptwriter, he continues to shape the next generation of creative visionaries. is his swansong, but Maqoma hopes to leave a lasting legacy in the dance community, one inspired by the swan.

“Live like a swan ... the S is for serve, serve your chosen career and serve it fully with no regrets. Do it willingly. It has to be aligned to my beliefs, my ancestral beliefs, it has to be aligned to my belief of how society should function. The last thing is to be nice while I do it.”