By Michael Kolawole 

A Yoruba proverb says that the Sẹkẹrẹ (a beaded gourd) never goes to a place of sorrow. The saxophonist, musician, and actor Olaniyan Olamide is the proverbial sẹkẹrẹ; he always thrills the audience wherever he performs.

His exciting performances during the production of Atupa (The Spotlight), a musical and stage drama at CAST Waterdale, Doncaster, UK, reveal that he is a joyful person who lightened up events.

Olamide begins his performance with a saxophonic rendition of Beautiful Nubia’s classic song, Ikoko Akufọ (Lamentation For A Broken Pot). He deftly plays the saxophone just as it’s played in the original song, enchanting the audience who excitedly watch him. But picks up the Sẹkẹrẹ halfway through, dancing, smiling, and singing as he plays it before picking up the Saxophone to wrap up his set.

Olamide is backed by skilled instrumentalists who make his set engaging. Three Djembe drummers on the right side of the
stage excellently beat the drums; an Agogo (gong) player spices the music up with his instrument; a drum set player stays in tune with the music tempo; a bassist gently plucks the strings in sync with the melody; and a keyboardist keeps it soft and simple. Together, they all make Olamide’s set a joyful sight to cherish.

The audience, who are mostly White with a mix of Black and Asian are enthralled by his presentation. Some are nodding their heads as he performs. Some are fixated, taking in every bit of his performance.

When Olamide plays the last note on his saxophone, the audience cheers, clapping their hands in appreciation for his exceptional musical display. He takes a bow, acknowledging their applause, before departing the stage. It seems he is done with the production, and that will be the last time we see him on stage.

But, surprisingly, he still has more to offer.

As though proving that he is not a one-trick pony, Olamide appears on the stage in a different costume and persona for the Oodaye (The Cradle) play. Playing Adigun, a cheerful character with a good sense of humour, he helps drive the play’s plots from the beginning to the end.

As an integral part of the cast, Olamide’s Adigun serves as a narrator who tells us about the beauty and importance of the Yoruba (open) market while also serving as a dancer and a jester. Having participated in virtually every scene, as the play edges toward crisis, he is killed by assailants in the market, along with some members of his community. But he and his community people are miraculously brought back to life through the mysterious power of the talking drum. Using the talking drum to resurrect the dead is a clever depiction of the power of music.

Though Olamide’s musical and theatrical performances are entertaining, offering warmth, humour, and mystery, they are not without their drawbacks.

His saxophone rendition of Beautiful Nubia’s “Ikoko Akufọ (Lamentation For A Broken Pot),” raises a question about his interpretive ambition. To show his competence and versatility, Olamide plays the saxophone, the Sẹkẹrẹ, and sings. The transition from saxophone to Sẹkẹrẹ mid-set, though energetic, comes on as a structural weakness. Rather than building a cohesive musical arc, the set appears to embrace variety in place of subtlety. His decision to over-garnish the performance transforms the original song from its soulfulness to a mere mimicry. It reduces the song’s emotional tenacity, leaving the audience adrift and unsatisfied.

For his theatrical role as Adigun, the character is broadly functional, rather than psychologically complex. A security personnel, a jester, and a narrator rolled into one risk, spreading the performance thin. The character’s death and resurrection (potentially the most dramatically charged of the play), is handled with a mix of staidness and levity, limiting the play’s purported integrity.

Olamide’s delivery in the production shows his range but it’s not indelible.