Constance Gaanakgomo - Review in News24 online newspaper, South Africa 

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RESILIENCE AND REFLECTION SHINE IN BO PETERSEN'S PIECES OF ME AT THE MARKET THEATRE
 

Pieces of Me explores identity, race, and the unspoken truths of apartheid South Africa. This 65-minute theatre production is an act of remembrance, sparking reflection and critical conversations about South Africa's history. 

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Bo Petersen's Pieces of Me is an extraordinary piece of biographical theatre - the kind that lingers long after the curtains fall, leaving one with questions but more so reflections on a time in South Africa. 

The opening night at The Market Theatre was intimate. Walking in, we were curious about a set that included three chairs, a keyboard, a table, a suitcase filled with mementos, and a coat hanging on the stage. 

Written and performed by Petersen herself, the production is a personal memoir and a reflection on South Africa's complex history of race, identity, and belonging.

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The play, 65 minutes long, unpacks the devastating legacy of apartheid and the unspoken secrets that tear families apart, all while threading the narrative together with immense empathy and undeniable humanity. 

At the heart of Pieces of Me is Petersen's discovery at the age of 19 that her father, a coloured man, had "passed for white" under the oppressive laws of apartheid. 

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The play traverses their shared journey of concealment, connection, and the painful consequences of living in the shadow of a lie. 

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Petersen's performance is raw and deeply vulnerable. She carries the weight of complex emotions - frustration, love, confusion, and anger - while navigating the delicate space between her father's fear and her longing for the truth. 

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With precise emotional control, she brings her audience into her world, embodying the heartbreak of a daughter denied the full story of her heritage while poignantly reflecting on her father's agonising choices. 

Petersen plays the characters of her father, herself, her aunt, and all the characters interwoven in her life story. 

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She refuses to judge her father harshly, bringing tenderness and understanding to his decision. Through her expert storytelling, she allows audiences to sit with the deeply human nature of his actions - his desire for survival in a system designed to crush opportunity for people like him. 

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Her frustration about her father withholding details of his life and even his heritage becomes a microcosm of the concealed histories that apartheid forced so many South Africans to carry. 

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In one scene, her aunt seemingly calms her mind about the kind of life her father led, comforting her by sharing his father’s qualities, something a daughter would like to hear in a moment of doubt and beckoning for her while she is trying to piece together the past to make sense of the future. 

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The play skillfully balances anger with empathy, creating a layered exploration of what it means to live with secrets hidden beneath the surface. 

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Petersen portrays how "passing as white" gave her father access to privileges but also created emotional isolation, guilt, and fragmented family identity. The piece delves into transgenerational trauma, with its echoes continuing to shape Petersen's own life, relationships, and artistry. 

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Laminated cards shuffle across the stage to represent memories and historical markers - almost like laying stones on a memorial. The act is symbolic and haunting, underscoring the fragmented nature of Petersen's family history. 

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The play starred the actor, and the inclusion of music by Petersen's cousin, Christopher Petersen, was also significant. I will keep this one mysterious for those who watch it to discover; there will be no spoilers. 

This emotional and symbolic collaboration marks a moment of reconciliation. 

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While Petersen's story is deeply personal, it mirrors South Africa's wider history. Audience members, whether willing or not or ready, have the unique opportunity to leave the theatre reflecting on how race, identity, and survival have shaped their lives and those around them. 

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I went to opening night with my 14-year-old because I felt he needed to see how the freedom he enjoys today did not come by easily. 

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The play did its part; on the ride home, we had some critical conversations about the legacy of Apartheid and the lingering wounds of its divisive policies; we didn't sleep immediately. 

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I had to have a chat with the teenager about apartheid through the lens of my late grandmother; while I had to memorise these laws at university, my grandmother lived these moments. 

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Years ago, when I was old enough to comprehend the magnitude of the past, she told me about life in the small town of Wolmaransstad. ​From the banks, post office, municipality offices, courts and hospitals, she would show me the doors and chairs they used, which were clearly labelled for blacks and entries written Slegs Blankes (only whites). Everywhere we went held a memory of pain for her, but she took it with grace, making sure she allowed me to have my own experiences that were not marred by hatred. 

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Pieces of Me is more than a play - it is an act of remembrance, a tribute to resilience, and a rallying cry for the reconciliation of South Africa's collective history. 

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Petersen's ability to tell her story with such vulnerability and integrity makes this production a rare theatrical gem. 

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It is essential theatre: reflective, moving, and unforgettable. It's also fitting that the play is showing in April, just days away from Freedom Day. It gives the audience a moment to pause and reflect on how far we've come. 

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Whether you're drawn to powerful storytelling, captivated by personal narratives, or eager to engage in the complexities of South African history, this play is not to be missed.