When you’re sipping champagne outside the National Theatre of Namibia in celebration of theatre doyenne Sandy Rudd’s forty years of being fabulous, the lights and the fizz tend to go to your head. Suddenly, despite the oft blank calendars, mostly empty stages and mounting evidence to the contrary, you think local theatre may yet make a sustained return. Artists may actually make a living wage and we may all finally gain access to that most wondrous and coveted of things … medical aid. It’s a delusion brought on by the bubbles, but they also inspire the beginning of a plan, one that sees me sizing up everyone who’s come out that evening and mentally measuring them as lifelong patrons of the arts. In William Shakespeare’s day, such patrons were the lifeblood of the creative industry. Culture connoisseurs like Shakespeare’s Henry Wriothesley, the third Earl of Southampton, would do the Lord’s work of recognising budding talent before digging deep into their coffers to financially support artists’ genius. Hundreds of years later, I think such patrons need to make a mainstream comeback, particularly in Namibia. To be clear, rich folks – a number of whom may want to spread their perhaps ill-gotten wealth around – should consider supporting the life and work of a local artist, theatremaker or production so that our stages may be adorned with more than cobwebs. Just imagine! Your name on the marquee. Everyone sipping the champagne you paid for, feting you as a saviour of local arts and culture and glancing admiringly your way like you’re some kind of Gatsby. Just imagine! Yours is the wallet that made a night of cultural discourse possible and the production you paid for inspires some kid in the audience who goes on to become the next David Ndjavera, Cynthia Schimming, Frederick B Philander or Sandy Rudd. Just imagine! You fund a talent who can thus keep the lights on. They go to bed with a full belly and wake up with energy enough to create masterpieces of theatre, visual art or film. Just imagine! Imagine what the creative industry could be if the private sector elevated the support, purchasing and funding of the arts and artists to the level of vital and non-negotiable – and anyone who didn’t see their name in the ‘thank you’ section of a production was seen as flagrantly out of touch. Just imagine we archived our history, heroes and culture in theatre productions, books of Namibian theatre scripts and recordings for schools so that our own reflection and reflections could inspire a brighter tomorrow. Just imagine buzzing and beautiful theatres, both traditional and avant-garde, where there are productions each month, so their stars are household names and their rooms are constantly alive with rehearsal. Just imagine what we have already caught a glimpse of: Windhoek in its theatrical heyday, when the national theatre was full to the rafters every two months, the audience hummed with anticipation and the curtains pulled back to reveal nothing short of ourselves, striving and glorious. Just imagine! I know I do, sipping champagne as I wait to watch Sandy’s highly anticipated show, not knowing when I’ll get to be at the theatre again but feeling fizzy … and fabulous. – martha@namibian.com.na; Martha Mukaiwa on Twitter and Instagram; marthamukaiwa.com The post Just Imagine! appeared first on The Namibian.