Arabi: A portrait of an impresario and selfless artist

Neither time nor self-effacing humility is going to diminish Arabi Mocheke’s profound influence on the struggle to use culture as an instrument of transformation and economic self-reliance among artists. Mocheke, who died after a long battle with prostrate cancer, was a cultural visionary and leader known for his passionate love and unrelenting commitment to the arts. He was 51 years old.

At the time of his death, he was a highly esteemed figure in social and cultural circles. He had banged on far too many corporate doors to ask for sponsorship money to help artists make things happen for themselves through their talent. His life offered promise, hope and optimism to brilliant musicians, poets, writers and other creative types who were not appreciated for their immeasurable contribution to nation-building and consciousness.

In fact, his death has deprived the cultural sector of an infectious soul and determined individual who was taking arts to the centre of national life. Those who had time and care to listen to Mocheke were quickly awakened to his clarity of thought and vision in his dreams and plans.

He believed arts are life.

This was reflected in his extraordinary feat of reviving the life and career of one Philip Tabane and Malombo who had been buried alive through sheer neglect and abandonment. It was Mocheke’s timely and relevant intervention that saw the music of Malombo rise like a phoenix to become a force to be reckoned with on the global stage.

More than anything, Mocheke ignited Tabane with the confidence to declare to the world that his music not only had a profound message to the world but he was one of the best guitarists to come out of the African continent. Indeed, Tabane’s soul and that of his ancestors are now living in peace. Thanks to Mocheke for raising them from the dead and giving them a second coming.

Perhaps it is when one catches the cellphone tribute circulated by cultural critic Bongani Madondo that Mocheke’s impact crystallises into meaning.

“He lived his life beyond the fullest. He was a king and a sinner, brother and a father, a street walker, philosopher, man about town, revolutionary, wit, weed man, stylist, multi-linguist. Above all, he was a deeply caring unofficial executive mayor of Johannesburg,” said Madondo.

To many, who have been devastated by the news of Mocheke’s passing on, this soul-stirring lament will not be enough. It heaps too much praise on a man when he is dead. Yet Mocheke was a rising spirit of self-determination who, increasingly, asserted the urgent need for artists to be taken seriously in this society.

For more than a decade, he organised and funded the Soweto Arts Festival from his own pocket until, of course, the intervention of the Department of Arts & Culture, which offered some help. Thus many artists who had become traumatised and embittered felt revived and their hope was ignited, especially in the townships. Some criticised Mocheke as an outsider and opportunist who was using Soweto to make a name and money for himself.

But the former salesman and unionist was unfazed. Soon after this festival became a cultural landmark, Mocheke started a similar initiative in Limpopo, which had been growing for the last two years. He had plans to take it to Mdantsane for the first time this year. Dry and arid regions could witness and experience the best talent in writing, dance, theatre and music. Mocheke was dissatisfied with the fact that there was no thriving culture and arts in the many communities.

“There arts are life. People cannot claim to be alive without them,” said Mocheke. In a way, Mocheke’s unwavering commitment to promoting the performing arts reaffirms their centrality in life, especially among marginalised communities. Through his single-minded focus, he redefined a new calibre of “music promoter” who epitomised an invigorating spirit. In fact, Mocheke was not a money-maker who obsessed with bringing washed-out Americans to revive flagging careers at the expense of indigenous arts.

Instead, Mocheke confronted this self-destructive tendency by asserting the right and dignity of indigenous arts to take a paramount space in the consciousness of their people. As veteran musician and composer Sipho Mabuse says, “Arabi developed young and marginalised talent”. His programming content would feature Umfaz’ Omnyama, Nothembi Mkhwebane and E’skia Mphahlele for instance, playing and reading among people who have yet to appreciate their significance and impact on global pan-Africanism or indigenous philosophy.

Mysteriously, he managed to do so with no help from major corporates or municipalities. Those who understood Mocheke were surprised that he remained sane and upbeat in a nation that has yet to appreciate its prophetic visionaries. Understandably, for him taking the arts to marginalised communities was more important than the attitude of top-dog cultural philistines who deprived him sponsorship.

Fortunately, what defined Mocheke was critical urgency and intervention to revive genuine appreciation of the arts in grassroots communities. It can be said with the greatest assurance that he was a unique promoter who was head and shoulders above his peers.

The national arts are poorer without him.