Charlene and Francois at the launch of the Simon van der Stel book at Cape Town Castle

Mia, the Norwegian Forest Cat   Author's Cats    Photo In Riana's garden
Articles: A nation divided – or just slightly mixed up in the Bolander
In creative company- Riana Scheepers's writing course at De Compagnie.
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Francois P Verster Painter and author of books and e-books Francois P. Verster was born 24 January 1962 at Bellville and grew up in Parow. He studied at Stellenbosch University (from 1980), taught school to Bushmen in the Caprivi Strip (Namibia) during military service, worked as a teacher at different schools until 1990, joined National Archives Services in 1991, where he was Principal Archivist in charge of outreach projects at Cape Town Archives Repository. Since 2006, Francois is working at NASPERS. Verster is relatively new on the scene as a writer, but in the couple of years since completing his D Phil in Cultural History (Stell.) in 2003, he published 2 books, as well as 2 e-books on CD ROM. He has contributed numerous articles to periodicals and newspapers, mainly on academic subjects. Francois is a lifelong fan of comics and cartoons and has lectured widely on these subjects, including at the University of Dijon in 2004. He is currently working on Strokies en grafiese novellas in Suid-Afrika 1980-2005 and is the author and illustrator of a book on the Simon van der Stel's trek to the copper mountains (1685 -1985) published in October 2005. Verster started painting seriously after contracting a rare type of arthritis in 1992, which compelled him to give up sports. Prior to this, he only drew caricatures on demand, such as for university and school papers and painted non-figurative works for friends. Always a natural draughtsman, he started taking painting classes, eventually befriending well-known artists such as Gregoire Boonzaier and Ann Walton, and art connoisseurs such as Hans Fransen, who encouraged him to keep working at his own style, which has evolved from abstract to photo-realism and eventually to what could be described as realistic expressionism. Although Verster admires the subtleties of watercolours, he admits to be too impulsive and impatient for that genre. He prefers the pliability of oils and rich colours of pastels. Not surprisingly, Claude Monet, and our own Jean Welz and Francois Krige are some of his favourite artists. The morning after (In: Deur die Duineveld na Skipskop, 2004) Seilbote en suidoos [Sailing boats and southeaster] Oil on canvas, 2003 Drinkbroers [Brothers drinking] Oil on board, 1995 A jack-of-all trades by nature, Verster tries his hand at a wide variety of themes, but he favours landscape and animal studies. Verster sees his versatility both as strength and weakness, because he rarely spends much time at any given theme, style or genre. He enjoys the cross-pollination such diversity generates. In 2004 Verster was commissioned to illustrate humorous tales in the book, Deur die Duinevled na Skipskop by the cultural historian Brönhilde Ekermans. He enjoyed doing these pen and ink drawings, his first sojourn into this genre and is now doing illustrations for a book about the 300 year commemoration of Simon van der Stel's expedition to find precious minerals in 1685, of which he is also the writer. Francois Verster writes freelance for BOLANDER (a regular history column, essays, interviews with artists, social commentary, book reviews. etc.), as well as CAPE LIBRARIAN, and occasionally for newspapers and magazines. He recently self-published an electronic book (CD ROM) on writing, with the purpose of motivating writers to create and publish. The writing school of Riana Scheepers he and writers contributing to this CD had attended in 2006, serves as an example of the worth of such workshops, as well as work produces at the workshop, etc. The CD was not originally intended to be commercialized, but interested persons are welcome to contact him at to procure copies at a minimal price. Francois is married to Charlene. Hobbies: Interests are many, including travels, various sports, mountain hiking, orchid growing, and music. He is also active in cultural-history circles, paints, illustrates books and is a voracious reader. Books: TO Honiball: Culture with a smile, AFRICAN SUN MeDIA, 2004 Van Kaspaas tot Kaas: die lewe en werk van TO Honiball (2005), AFRICAN SUN MeDIA CD ROM: Honiball 100 (in English & Afrikaans), 2004, with updated edition in 2005, AFRICAN SUN MeDIA Op die spore van Simon van der Stel, Simon van der Stel's trek to the copper mountains (1685 -1985), (Editor: Wille Visagie), published by Willie Visagie, October 2005 CD-ROM: Verras Jouself - skryfskool 2006 - Inspirasie, Konsentrasie en Perspirasie, 2008 This CD can be obtained at low cost from the author.

  Illustration: Title: All cats are grey in the dark …no matter which hat they wear

A nation divided – or just slightly mixed up

In the preceding article I promised to write about the legacy of the French Huguenots. But first I need to clarify something: the intention of this column is not to glorify the European settlers. It was to narrate the origins of the towns of Bolander's distribution area, starting with Stellenbosch, moving to the Helderberg area, then Franschhoek, Paarl and Wellington - and then start the circuit anew, but to also move to recent times, when towns like Pniël and suburbs like Idas Valley developed.
Now for the reason for my brief sojourn from the planned route: criticism from well-meaning readers was that one should acknowledge the fact that the history of this country did not start with the arrival of white settlers. Perhaps one could argue that the history of South Africa as it is known today did start with the addition of European ingredients to the base mix of our (later) nation – the First Peoples; the San and Khoi groups.
The history of our nation began long before the 1600's (Dutch arrival) or even the 1400's, when the Portuguese skirted our coasts. In any event, the time any group populates the planet is relatively short, according to archaeology. I am no archaeologist, which is why I prefer to stick to written history (admittedly imperfect, since it was written by people, not God). However, I have now resolved to at least research chronicles housed in the Western Cape Archives to include whatever I can find about the so-called indigenous peoples - as soon as we have completed our route, we will indeed begin a new circuit; in fact step back further in time from where we "visiting" now, the early colonial period, if you will.
We also should remember that most of us are blood relations – no matter what we consider ourselves to be; black, white or whatever. It is ironic that the people most connected to the "first people" of the Cape are also the bridge between those of us representing the outer poles of the nation's racial make-up. Many people are uncertain of their identities in Post-apartheid South Africa – even many of those who were proud and certain of their cultures a mere decade ago now share an undecided self-image and tentative self-esteem. Fact is; we share a common history, even if it is only a part of a much bigger whole, even though we differ in our concepts of just how big that whole may be.
It is the mission of the historian and colleagues from other disciplines (like archaeology) to present an account of the past that is as true and objective as is humanly possible. To this end the social scientist and the journalist share common goals; an objective and meticulously-researched report of why we are where we are today. In this knowledge I am comfortable in my own (white?) skin, even though I sometimes wear two hats.

In creative company – Riana Scheepers's writing course at De Compagnie.

When I drove down the long lane to the main house of the farm De Compagnie, the beauty and tranquillity of the exceedingly neat surroundings convinced me that I have indeed arrived at Wellington's Shangri La for writers and poets – or rather those who dream of becoming creators of publishable prose.
The others nine learners arrived in drips and drabs, clearly bursting to acquire knowledge, but just as clearly quite uncertain of what this knowledge would be. And what the verdict will be concerning their writing abilities. We gathered around in the imposing voorkamer of the old Cape Dutch house, peeking at the study – or is it the dream factory – of the accomplished Dr Riana Scheepers. Many books on shelves that stretch up to the high ceiling, a brace of desks and a couple of paintings pretty much completes the picture. I recognise a Jan Visser – an abstract nude and later learn that the model for this painting is indeed one of my fellow learners, none other than the fascinating Maria with her wayward red locks and disarming way of being offhand and exuberant at the same time. Maria, a painter herself, shares a sensual outlook on literature and creativity with Scheepers, which come to no surprise to me, having met and being thoroughly impressed by the good doctor before.
Riana Scheepers is indeed one of those ladies who seem to light up a room with her mere presence and then bowl you over completely with her sharp intellect and a capacity to express herself in a perfectly rational, but colourful way. Who better then to have as a mentor for a whole week in this luscious milieu of antiques (hers) and antics (ours) – who indeed?
For the next two days we found ourselves sipping Port or Cognac from a striking array of glasses, each uniquely different in colour, shape and size. We learn about the art of writing short stories and are required to try creating such stories ourselves – as “homework”; up to a dozen assignments each day and reading our best efforts to the class at the end of each two hour session.
The first day sped past while I was still looking around for parking space, so to speak. By the second day I felt rather flat, weighed down by the sense of suffering from a kind of none to exotic impotency. My best efforts made no discernable impression, but I decided to stick to my initial strategy of writing spontaneously with the minimum editing. In other words, not trying to make an impression, but rather to be assessed on honest, original work.
By day three, Dr Scheepers informed me that I could make it as a writer of short stories and essays. Apart from one satirical poem, she was not too impressed with my attempts at that particular genre. I also was no serious contender for one of the daily prizes for best work (did not think so myself, but must confess, I rather fancied the beautiful rose that René Greyling, the pick of our bunch, no pun intended, won for her deep, intense poems, heavily laden with raw and cryptic emotion).
However, the constant exercise of one's normally lazy right (side of the) brain made for mostly a euphoric mood while at the farm. Sampling the products of De Compagnie in those stunning glasses undoubtedly contributed, but still… Two of the many high points of this unforgettable week were the sessions in the wine cellar and, with exactly the opposite atmosphere, but equally thrilling, the session under a couple of gnarled oaks in a place so romantic and poetic I visualized a scene from Alice in Wonderland (see illustration).
When the last day (Friday 6 October) arrived like a very unwelcome guest, we were still on a collective high, only occasionally troubled by twinges of sadness. I suppose we all knew that after the farewell banquet, we would be summarily kicked out of this cosy nest of creative interactivity. The question looming large in our still reeling minds were: will we be able to take the next step on our own? And do the Johnnie Walker thing – keep on walking? Walking, writing, and struggling: that seems to be the lonely lot of the artist. We decided to at lest counteract this apparently inevitable seclusion from society by forming a support system and even resolved to publish our weeks work as a collection of mostly poems, sketches and short stories.
With the scrumptious flavour of Riana and Katryn's waterblommetjies lingering on my utterly bewildered palate, I also linger a while longer with fellow disciples former opera singer Rianné Potgieter and the enigmatic Maria at the beautifully restored Jonkershuis just a hundred yards from the main house. We vow to do our best to fan the flame that Riana Scheepers kindled in our bosoms – each will pursue the unspoken Quest: write a novel.
When I finally walk to my car, Riana appears on her stoep. We wave and she turns away, her part of the mission completed. Whether it was successful will be determined by each of us.
In the interim I salute you nine brave souls, Rianné, René, Maria, Johan, Carien, Wilna, Anita, Helena and Eileen.

www.StellenboschWriters.com © Rosemarie Breuer