I have sat at the next desk to Frances at ArtForms for years. Then we all get invites to her presentation and choir talking about and singing about her earlier childhood in South Africa where her parents were ANC activists, spent time in prison, her father in the 90 day solitary, and finally having to escape the country by walking over the border at night.
Frances interspersed her talk with songs of freedom from her lovely choir with their lovely soloists, and they sounded great. She read extracts from her parents' books, and showed a pic of herself from the SA papers. I have two pics of the choir. And a memory also from when Walter and I crossed the border from Botswana to Zimbabwe, not in fear of police it must be said, but terrified of what dangerous animal might be lurking behind the next bush.
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