Category: Art

Arte Povera & South African Art: A Walkabout with Thembinkosi Goniwe

The Wits Art Museum (WAM) recently hosted a walkabout on their latest exhibition Arte Povera and South African Art: In Conversation led by Consul General of Italy in Johannesburg, Dr. Emanuela Curnis, and South African curator, Dr. Thembinkosi Goniwe. The exhibition includes two sections, and while I was excited to see the works of Italian artists like Pino Pascali irl, my curiosity focused on Goniwe’s take on the impact of Arte Povera on South African art. As a long-time Arte Povera Stan, I believed it was this perspective that made this show seminal.

From left to right: Ilaria Bernardi, Dr. Emanuela Curnis, Thembinkosi Goniwe

Coined in 1967 by Germano Celant, Arte Povera, is an Italian avant-garde movement. Directly translated as “Poor Art,” Arte Povera challenged historical art’s exaltation of luxurious materials and pristine gallery spaces. The movement opted for non-traditional materials often found in homes or nature, emphasising a love for ordinary objects, lived experience and the human body. Its unfettered use of accessible materials reflected an interest in physicality and explored environmentalism in art, long before it became popular.

Arte Povera 1967 – 1971, is the first exhibition of its kind in Africa. Curated by Ilaria Bernardi, this segment highlights 13 renowned Arte Povera artists, Giovanni Anselmo, Alighiero Boetti, Pier Paolo Calzolari, Luciano Fabro, Jannis Kounellis, Mario Merz, Marisa Merz, Giulio Paolini, Pino Pascali, Giuseppe Penone, Michelangelo Pistoletto, Emilio Prini, and Gilberto Zorio.

“Orchestra di stracci” (1968) by Pistoletto Michelangelo

“Senza titolo (No title)” (1968) by Jannis Kounellis

On the other hand, Thembinkosi Goniwe curated South African Innovations, 1980s – 2020s is something of a response on behalf of the 13 South African artists Jane Alexander, Willem Boshoff, Bongiwe Dhlomo, Kay Hassan, David Thubu Koloane, Moshekwa Langa, Billy Mandindi, Senzeni Marasela, Kagiso Pat Mautloa, Thokozani Mthiyane, Lucas Seage, Usha Seejarim, and Kemang Wa Lehulere.

Walking around the exhibition, one got a strong sense that the two exhibitions were quite disjointed, which is not necessarily a bad thing. After briefly engaging downstairs with the Italian part, Goniwe guided viewers through the upstairs South African exhibition, drawing attention to the significance of the artworks’ construction and thematic elements. As he walked about, he emphasised the artists’ deliberate choices in materials, exploring how these choices both echo local narratives and resonate with global issues.

For instance, Goniwe explained Usha Seejarim’s The Modest Home Builder (2004), which involves collecting bricks and wrapping them in a fabric known as Shweshwe—a process reminiscent of ancient practices, transformed into contemporary art. According to Goniwe, the use of African fabrics and local patterns, such as those associated with Xhosa women and domestic workers, becomes symbolic and intertwined with the broader narrative.

“The Modest Home Builder” (2004)
by Usha Seejarim

As I listened, I noticed an absence of the work of artists like Bronwyn Katz and Lungiswa Gqunta, which I would more readily associate with Arte Povera. I asked Goniwe: “As we can see in this exhibit, there’s a lot more manipulation of materials, transforming them into new intricate forms. This differs slightly from the traditional Arte Povera approach, which is often more reverent towards the material. Can you explain this curatorial choice?”

He responded, “Mimicry implies a lack of originality as if we have no inventive capacity of our own. Instead, I aim to create a parallel discourse, one that reflects the unique evolution of material manipulation in South African history. … This question of historical materiality is so strong in Black theories. … Downstairs, even if you’re talking about how in the 60s there were protests … there’s a kind of a different conversation and an artwork and a process that happens … you see the politics that’s happening and the way in which they imagined it throughout. So that’s why I find it very hard to grapple with inheriting ways of thinking from white people.”

True as his response may be, in this context, it is still quite thrilling for the viewer to discover unquestionable visual parallels between Arte Povera and South African art. For me, Lucas Seage’s Found Object (1981) seemed to most epitomise Arte Povera.

Goniwe lingered here, saying, “… there’s a profound concept in being born and dying in a bed. … Seage, not bound by formal education, challenges conventional artistic materials. This echoes a broader tradition found in societies where people constantly create and curate, whether through changing living spaces or cultivating gardens. The professionalisation of curating seems to overlook the innate creativity present in everyday practices …”

“Found Object” (1981)
by Lucas Seage

“Saxophone on a Wheel” (1983)
by David Koloane

Touching on his muse, Koloane’s Saxophone on a Wheel (1983), Goniwe continued, “What Thupelo does, it allows artists to emerge in the materiality of things. If anything, we’ll come closer to Arte Povera as a movement … However, defining movements is challenging, as artists are often ahead, and historians, curators, and critics lag behind. …

It seems as if we fear to name ourselves. We fear to title ourselves. … But the beautiful thing now is a new generation of scholars, especially African-Black scholars, who are beginning to name what they do. ‘Innovation’ is an open-ended title intentionally chosen to encompass the various trajectories present in the exhibition.”

When I asked Goniwe to speak on the economic challenges faced by artists in Italy during the post-war period, leading to the emergence of Arte Povera, and how this could highlight more potential connections between this historical context and contemporary South African art, he responded: “Let me clarify: I’m not saying that these artists are working under poor conditions. To start with Italy in (the) 1960s is not a poor country. … What I’m emphasising is the conscious choices made.”

“Fire Games” (1985) by Billy Mandindi

Not entirely satisfied with this response, I rephrased my question, linking it this time to so-called “Township Art”. While it lacks aesthetic similarities, Township Art does illustrate my interest in the connection between socio-economic conditions and the production of art.

Goniwe answered, “When we talk about privilege, it’s about those who can afford to experiment … It’s not a performance; it’s an undeniable reality. We need to be mindful of this … To answer your question about why we didn’t explore Township Art, it’s because our interests were tied to museums.

It wasn’t just about money; it was also about time and value. Fiona can elaborate on the constraints and limitations we faced. We don’t make excuses for what we could or couldn’t have done; we focus on what we did. Any other critiques are welcome, and so are extensions of the project. I want to make it clear; I’m not defending against criticism. We are actively revisiting concepts, including Township Art, as part of our ongoing projects …

The failure lies not so much with the artists but with us—art historians, critics, and theorists. Because we don’t read carefully. As I said, if you ask me, Township Art is a movement … There are also other movements like the Funda movement, which focuses on aesthetics and art foundations. Artists working there share certain characteristics that we haven’t explored due to our tendencies to compartmentalise or depend on existing narratives.

So part of revisionist history, it must be critical, salvage and mine and give it a different meaning. With this exhibition, my intention is to open up a dialogue. It’s an opportunity to reflect on South African art over the past 50 years … in a way that has not happened yet.”

Goniwe is spot on. While artists have always worked with whatever materials were available due to financial constraints, this legacy has not been adequately addressed in the local context. This exhibition, which remains on show until the 9th of December, not only highlights the need for further scrutiny of the socio-economic impacts on materiality in South African art but also underscores the necessity of cultural exchange for rich artistic development. That is why, while it has plenty of room to grow, Arte Povera and South African Art: In Conversation is undeniably paramount.

“Untitled (Skin)” (1995) Artist- Moshekwa Langa

“Shredded Evidence” (1997) by Willem Boshoff

“Teacher Don’t Teach Me Nonsense” (2023) by Kemang Wa Lehuleru

15 November 2023
Black Desire & Femme Rage: Goliath and Mohale’s Encounter at Goodman

This past Saturday, the Poetry Readings and Conversation brought together Gabrielle Goliath and Maneo Mohale in an event organised by the Goodman Gallery in Johannesburg. Founded in 1966 during a time of unthinkable violence and segregation, seldom has the institution presented us with such profoundly embodied explorations of Black desire, sensuality, and queerness in art. The happening was thanks in part to a collaboration with the Centre for the Study of Race, Gender & Class at the University of Johannesburg and its Global Blackness Summer School, whose theme this year is: For Wholeness. Black Being Well.

Selecting Maneo Mohale as the function’s facilitator was fitting. Not only did the poet and feminist writer have unstoppable chemistry with the guest of honour, but they were also incredibly qualified to take on such delicate subject matter. Mohale has contributed to various publications and served as a contributing editor at i-D Magazine. Their debut poetry collection, Everything is a Deathly Flower (2019), was shortlisted for the Ingrid Jonker Poetry Prize and long-listed twice for the Sol Plaatje European Union Poetry Anthology Award.

The recipient of the 2019 Standard Bank Young Artist Award, Gabrielle Goliath’s work is featured in numerous public and private collections globally including Constellas Zurich, Tate Modern, and Iziko South African National Gallery. Her new body of work Beloved at Goodman Gallery, features drawings and prints. The exhibition, running from October 28 to November 24, 2023, features representations of radical Femme figures like Gabeba Baderoon, Caster Semenya, Sylvia Wynter, Yoko Ono, Sade, and Winnie Madikizela-Mandela. While primarily recognised for her sound and performance art, the day was all about Goliath’s autographic practice.

Gabrielle Goliath and Maneo Mohale in conversation. Image captured by Thembeka Heidi Sincuba

Mohale began by inviting the audience to take three grounding breaths. They followed by sharing a poem, The Autobiography of Spring by queer Palestinian poet George Abraham, proceeding thereafter to introduce Goliath’s Beloved. Peering out the coffee table in front of the speakers, one could see Toni Morrison’s own Beloved (1970). This setting and sequence of events set a very specific tone for the day. From the get-go, it was clear that Goliath and Mohale were engaging at the intersection of Blackness, well-being, and creativity, with a soft emphasis on themes of sensuality, and queerness.

The way they spoke to each other was gentle and generous. When asked about her practice, Goliath replied, “I want to first speak about this notion of mark-making as a means of being close…” Echoing the mood in the room, Mohale praised this tactile, material, and more physically engaged process. Goliath continued, “… that really refuses the sort of sanctioned genius of the male artist, who works from a removed distance. And I refuse that. The physicality of the way in which I work and work on the floor. I work really close to these drawings. I relinquish the control of the hand. It’s not about the precious fidelity of the mark … it’s about relinquishing to the miraculous, what comes of that moment.”

Of course, it would be difficult to speak of love and intimacy without mentioning their antitheses. Goliath characterised her past work Elegy (2015), as a lament-driven work that addresses fatal acts of violence against women while avoiding the perpetuation of trauma. She said, “I did not want to return to the scene of subjection, I did not want to repeat the violence.”

At the nexus of art and violence, Mohale skillfully identified space for Femme rage, saying “ … in the wake of so much violence enacted upon my own body, it was really important for me to think it and hook it up to Empire … Not just these giant spectacular eruptions of violence, but legacies of violence.” Drawing inspiration from Glen Coulthard’s concept of “righteous rage,” Mohale invited us to view rage as a tool for Black Femme resistance.

Mohale prompted Goliath to reflect on the implications of portraying Winnie Madikizela-Mandela in this show. For a while, the pair lingered there and we saw something of a rupture in the way the two saw rage, with Mohale remarking, “I enjoy how my understanding of rage differs from you.” Goliath went on, “ … for me, what is really interesting with Madikizela-Mandela’s portrait specifically, is I find it very vulnerable. … it’s magisterial, but there’s a resignation … when I look at her.”

One of the seemingly many roots of the strong intellectual chemistry between Goliath and Mohale was the impact of Christina Sharpe on both of their work. Goliath’s encounter with Sharpe’s Monstrous Intimacies (2010) brought her towards an understanding of violence as both spectacular and insidious. Goliath insists: “We may need to bear our rage, and allow it to be transformed into the possibility of something else.”

In an audience-pleasing turn, Mohale asked Goliath about her portrayal of artist Desire Marea. As Mohale notes, “Desire being an initiated Sangoma is also not a footnote. … so much of their spiritual power is ancestral, is linked to bloodlines. … I think the sense of the sublime is also something that I chase in my own work, but … I’m seeing the clear instances and connections that are happening now between … contemporary queer artists.”

The intimate intellectual interaction between Goliath and Mohale prompts a collective reconsideration of the role of rage in desire and queerness in African artistic practices. It also did the long and thankless work of taking up space in an almost impervious institution. As we looked around the room and saw reflections of ourselves, both in the flesh and on the walls, we allowed ourselves to yearn for, perhaps even celebrate the dynamic and precarious possibilities within Black queer existence. Even amid this briefly beautiful moment of perceived reprieve, we were reminded of the violence that surrounds us as Mohale closed the discussion with a steady citation of Gabeba Baderoon’s War Triptych (2004).

13 November 2023
Temporal Layers: A Conversation with Swiss-Austrian Artist Stefanie Koemeda

On opening night, I had the pleasure of engaging in a conversation with Stefanie Koemeda, one of Nirox Foundation’s latest artists in residence who was being showcased in the group show Layers: Rock Art Across Space and Time at the Wits Origins Centre. We had our talk just outside the Centre, right before the curator Sven Christian‘s opening address.

Thembeka Heidi Sincuba: Could you tell me about your experience at Nirox and what drew you there in the first place?

Stefanie Koemeda: Yes, sure. I am Swiss and Austrian, and Switzerland has a funding agency with global connections and one of the connecting offices is in Johannesburg. I’ve been checking residencies around this area for a long time because I travelled to Southern Africa seven years ago and fell in love immediately with the region. … When I discovered Nirox, I thought that was … an extremely interesting place for me because of the cradle of humankind, and my interest in archaeology, deep time, and geology. I saw the pictures, and it was a no-brainer. … It’s heaven.

THS: What specifically made it heaven for you?

SK: Apart from the nice park they have, you can also just walk around … For me, as a European living in a city where everything is dead, it was heavenly. From a practical side, you get the freedom to do whatever you want. You don’t have to make an exhibition in the end or stick precisely to what you wrote in your application. That was one of the best things for me, being able to react to the place instead of just bringing my practice and executing it.

I also met people who took care of me, especially Sven Christian. He connected me to interesting people who shared artistic interests. I felt well taken care of. I was sharing the residency with Io Makandal, and I think we’re a good match.

THS: You said you had an idea when you had a proposal, but you were free to do whatever you wanted when you got there. How did your concept change and what made it change?

SK: The proposal was to create imprints of forms I found, not structures, using clay. I would make negative imprints of what I found and then assemble them into sculptures. … I did follow this plan for my final show, but I didn’t focus as much on the imprints. I worked with more free-form shapes, creating reliefs that were heavily influenced by what I observed and discussed with people. We went on many excursions, we visited five different mines in the West Rand because of my interest in soil and geology. This trip to the mine also informed my final sculpture.

THS: The terms ‘sustainability’ and ‘equality’ are used to describe the aims of your work. Did the mines you visited play a role in your exploration of these themes?

SK: Yeah, so, maybe first, the sustainability aspect for me is that our infrastructures, including mines, interfere with the planet’s top layer. We find ancient artefacts while creating modern ones. … Toxicity in Johannesburg’s dust is already measurable and will persist for millions of years, altering soil composition in the geological record. … I examine what we find and what we unconsciously leave behind, such as mines.

The equality aspect interests me in who shapes the future record. It’s typically wealthy states and corporations, possibly transitioning from nation to corporate power. It’s a small group dictating our legacy. Like, poor people, women, they don’t leave that much behind, you know, they don’t get the chance to have an imprint.

THS: What do you think people could misunderstand about your work?

SK: I think maybe, especially with the show that is up at Nirox now … I’m not romanticising Stone Age artefacts at all. For example, there is this cave in Spain where they have hand imprints. And it’s the most famous one, but you get them everywhere. You get them here as well. And they found out now that 80 or 90 per cent of all those hand imprints are from women, women’s hands. And I think there is a tendency to think …it must have been a nice ritual of celebrating women or whatever. But it could be something super cruel. It could be something scary.

THS: I read a quote on time by Timothy Morton in your portfolio and it occurred to me that time is so political. For example, African Time is more cyclical rather than linear … I’m curious about whether you engaged with these ideas while you were exploring local artefacts.

SK: The problem is that the winners are the ones who create the history. …we are now living in a world where scientists and science, I mean, natural sciences as they were born 500 years ago, dominate everything. There is no perception of reality that is outside of that. … I did study biology before I was an artist and that transition for me was difficult. The realisation that that is not the only alternative that exists was the most liberating thing for me. I think maybe that speaks to your time perspective … how cultures that are somewhere else think of time.

… honestly, that was a very challenging thing for me because I am not as educated about … the frictions that are here as I would want to be. I mean, I think I have learned a lot over the last … three months and I’m extremely grateful for that. But … (there are) so many different conversations here that … it feels a bit like being illiterate, but I’m also happy … that I challenge myself and realise that I have massive blind spots and that I am not informed about many things.

THS: Land is also incredibly political in South Africa and as equality is listed as one of the objectives of your work, how did the context affect your practice?

SK: … the political aspect … is not a big part of my work and the most interesting thing for me was that when I’m practising at home, that doesn’t matter, but here it is a much bigger decision not to care about, or not … I do care, but (not) to include it into your work. … I had very interesting discussions about that with Io because she’s also working with the soil and the earth as a white person here. … when I had those conversations with her, I realised that that is an aspect that is completely new for me here. That Earth is very political and rightly so.

Stefanie Koemeda‘s show, In My Brutish Breast, opened at 2 p.m. on the 30th of September in NIROX’s Cool Room and remained on display until the end of October. The exhibition presented a collection of creations crafted during the artist’s residency, spanning from ceramic-based relief compositions to ink drawings and watercolour pieces. Now travelling with the Layers exhibition under the careful stewardship of Sven Christian, her objects can currently be seen at the Wits Origin Centre.

This story is produced in the context of an editorial residency supported by Pro Helvetia Johannesburg, the Swiss Arts Council.

7 November 2023
Lady Skollie X Morena Leraba: A Triumph at the Standard Bank Gallery

Last night was lit! The Standard Bank Gallery was filled with great vibes and beautiful people. The wine was flowing and we even got a little goodie bag! The size of the crowd was just right, not too overwhelming or chaotic. Present were some well-known faces, including the esteemed Gallery Manager Dr Same Mdluli. Alongside such art world heavy hitters, we saw the likes of SAMA award winner Msaki and the 2022 Standard Bank Young Artist for Theatre recipient Billy Langa.

We all came together to celebrate Groot Gat, Lady Skollie‘s latest exhibition at the Standard Bank Gallery. Having already been shown at the National Arts Festival, the travelling exhibition aims to confront the erasure of indigenous African culture and highlight historically disregarded or marginalised artistic traditions. The award-winning Cape Town-born Lady Skollie, who has always had a commanding presence, welcomed her audience, husband in tow, with the extra glow of new motherhood. In addition to the work on show, Skollie was flexing her curatorial muscle.

The First Thursdays event featured a 7 p.m. performance by Lesotho-born performer Morena Leraba, which was set to echo the exhibition’s ethos. I had the privilege of chatting with Morena Liraba before his performance, and he emphasised the connections between his and Lady Skollie’s work. He expressed a strong interest in continued collaboration and an in-depth conversation with Skollie about the overlaps between their work. The interaction between Lady Skollie and Morena Leraba was charming. The two seemed genuinely delighted to be working together.

The highlight of the evening was undoubtedly the performance. Renowned for blending traditional Sesotho lyrics with electronic, afro house, and hip-hop genres, Morena Leraba’s music pays homage to Lesotho’s musical traditions. I have been a long-time fan of Morena Leraba’s and I rate his performance style, so I was not surprised to see him immediately elevate the energy in the room. But I had never seen him quite like this before as Leraba departed from his usual electronic and percussive setup.

The diversity within the band was impressive, with a femme horn section and bassist. The keyboard player’s lively performance was a joy to watch, and the drummer showcased thrilling versatility. While they were a group of skilled musicians, one got the feeling that they were still finding their sea legs.

Initially, it seemed the violinist was set at a volume that was quite overwhelming, tending to drown out other elements. This issue was exacerbated when he spent a large portion of the set tending to technical issues. Because of the spiritual tone of the performance, one could make a strong case that the band could have functioned effectively without this rather unfortunate diversion.

The performance itself presented an intriguing rhythmic dynamic. In contrast with Morena’s distinctly African essence, the ensemble relied heavily on Western musical traditions, resulting in moments of rigidity. There were very few solos and when they happened they were incredibly tame and short-lived. It was evident that Morena’s musical prowess shone most when he departed from the standard four-beat structure, venturing into more unconventional territory like legendary African musicians such as Fela Kuti.

While both traditions include cross-cultural fusion, Western and African music generally have distinct rhythmic structures. Western music often relies on regular time signatures and emphasises downbeats, which results in rhythmic predictability. Conversely, African music employs complex, irregular time signatures, intricate polyrhythms, and diversified percussion. In Western music, melody and rhythm are often separate, with melody taking the lead, while in African music, they integrate, producing more rhythmic complexity.

There were certainly moments of complexity during the set, but one found oneself anticipating a further exploration of the dichotomy between what the lead singer was doing and what the band was doing. Nonetheless, observing Morena Leraba’s boldly fluid experimentation suggests that, even if he’s experiencing some growing pains at the moment, we’re witnessing the emergence of a true African rock star. His performance style remains exceptional, and we should be so lucky to continue seeing how he refines and evolves it.

One thing is for sure — this night was historic. The collaboration between Lady Skollie and Morena Leraba was a harmonious marriage of sound and vision, the likes of which we seldom see. The atmosphere was electric! Leraba’s music, with its lyrical depth and genre fusion, was a perfect complement to Lady Skollie’s visually stunning pieces. It was a high-vibrational moment and truly a blessing to witness. Kudos to Lady Skollie, the Standard Bank Gallery, and Morena Leraba for allowing us to be part of such a significant moment in Joburg history.

3 November 2023