Author: Binwe Adebayo

  • Artist Elia Alba creates a world of Afro-futuristic icons

    “Afrofuturism is a cultural aesthetic that combines science-fiction, history and fantasy to explore the African-American experience and aims to connect those from the black diaspora with their forgotten African ancestry,”

    This is the definition given by the Tate Gallery’s glossary, but it only begins to scratch the surface. For celebrated artist Elia Alba, the work of futurism is not just about connecting black people to black art and black history, in a way that is isolated from mainstream content. Instead, as is explored in her recent set of works, it is the effort to place black creativity at the heart of archetypes in fashion, design, art and literature. Simply put, the Afrofuturist takes their seat at the table in her series, entitled The Supper Club.

    In an interview with Artsy, Alba explains her journey between making art, and the experience of sitting down with her subjects to unpack the issues. Over a series of supper club evenings, she did just that, teasing out the complexities of race, intersectionality and the experience of living in America. Her experiences served to shift her perspective.

    The Pulsar, (Abigail DeVille), 2014.

    “As artists, we do need to be more sensitive, because we’re putting stuff out into the world. I feel like I was very naïve for a while. Now, to use the contemporary language, I’m woke,” says Alba.

    The works, which bring together photography, make up artistry, visual storytelling – depict various leaders in black creativity as new icons. Instead of the generic white man on horse = gentleman trop, Alba uses different successful people of colour to fully embody archetypes like “The Professor,” “The Dreamweaver” and true to her Afro-Latino heritage, “The Orisha.”

    For over half a decade, Alba has engaged in various dinners, discussions and digital works which have tried to uncover the place of black (broadly speaking) creativity in a world which is still hugely unconcerned with black voices. And while the scene of work on representation is extremely littered (and rightly so), Alba’s bold, brash approach is out of this world.

    Bursting with colour, rich black symbolism and all the marks of an experienced artist, her work is equal parts intelligent and elegant, poignant and easily accessible. Included are the works are graphic artist Chitra Ganesh (depicted as an alienesque  David Bowie, complete with a huge bindi), Jacolby Satterwhite, Simone Leigh and Abigail De Ville, to name just a few. And while the famous faces bring their own magic to the work, the intentions are clear.

    “It’s about reimagining icons and perceptions of what is beautiful—and who is beautiful.”

    The Orisha (Juana Valdes), 2015.
  • Oakland Museum explores a post-capitalist world

    “Much of the evidence of capitalism is either eroding over time or simply not known or easily accessible to the public.”

    This is the parallel universe in which we are placed. In Oakland, California, the Museum of Capitalism looks at capitalism as if it were from a distant, antiquated past. It’s a world where capitalism is dead.

    As a recently converted vegan, who spent much of my years as a politics student cursing the evils of the free market, the notion of this world seems awesome. No iPhone hegemony, no conspicuous consumption, no reality TV worship. But as I explore the execution of this post bitcoin world, it seems as idealistic as the liberal left socialism so many of us try to practice.

    First and foremost, the Museum, opened in June this year, to oohs and aahs from the international community, was curated by two artists, Andrea Steven and Timothy Furstnau. The pair have been collaborating for nearly 10 years on various projects which question the nature of material wealth, waste and what the future would look like if the world was a little different.

    Jennifer Dalton, Ask Not for Whom the Art is Intended, 2015.

    And while that makes them experts in terms of putting this together, being two white art practitioners who were able to secure an award worth $150 000 to open the exhibition so obviously smacks of a very present world where capitalism is real, and serves some above others.

    But, let’s suspend the politics of art funding, and pretend that the curation process doesn’t matter all that much (wink wink). There is of course the big question of the works which are the pillars of this future world.

    One of the most standout features of the work is that almost none of it involves people. We are asked to imagine a speculative space, with the relics of capitalism, with no real engagement about what economics mean for people. South African artist, Callan Grecia, whose most recent works ‘These Aesthetics Are Not New’ touches on the effect of technology on connections and relationship, weighs in.

    “I like it but I think it’s kind of hypocritical in some senses just due to the capitalistic nature inherent in the idea of an exhibition which by its essence is a capitalistic device? I still love it but I think we should be aware of that while looking,” he says.

    Jordan Bennett, Artifact Bags (The Bay, Walmart and Target), 2013–15.

    That said, there are some seriously creative moments held tightly in the space. With the inclusion of a steel container reminiscent of the Vietnam War, and Christy Chow’s treadmill screen which gives viewers a look inside a Chinese factory, there has been some attempt at engagement with the political alongside the historical.

    Elsewhere Rimini Protokoll offers a very hands-on engagement with what is (quite highbrow, we are 1%) capitalism. Theatre goers buy tickets in the form of Daimler stock and invited to engage in a meeting, performing the very wheeling and dealing.

    Placed alongside Chow’s work, it speaks straight to the heart of accumulation by dispossession – the life blood of the capitalist world. Whether the curators intended this contrast can of course, only be guessed at, and it would be interesting to see whether a real life future audience from 3035 would read it with the same nuance that an audience living IN capitalism would do.

    Superflex, Bankrupt Banks Flags.
  • Ivorian artist Laetitia Ky goes beyond the braid in a series of fantastical hair sculptures

    A set of hands playing the guitar. A flower vase. A hand holding a phone for a selfie. These are just some of the magical subjects that Ivory Coast’s Laetitia Ky uses to create her once in a lifetime hair sculptures. Far beyond the boundaries of Africa’s highly creative repertoire of natural hairstyles, Ky brings everyday objects and black hair together with flair, skill and some fun.

    And the work could not have come at a better time. Within the framework of countless conversations around ‘good hair,’ ‘bad hair,’ ‘weaves vs natural’ and every discussion in between, Ky’s approach is playful and wry – in some ways educating her audience about the wonders and possibilities of black hair, and in other ways, injecting a playful tone to what can tend to be a wholly serious conversation. Speaking to OkayAfrica, Ky explains her inspiration,

    “I came across an Instagram album of hairstyles women used to wear in some African tribes prior to colonization. These hairstyles were really impressive and made me want to use hairstyling as a means of expression,” she explains.

    The response to the work has been powerful, to say the least. From spots in international magazines like Allure, to coverage in Buzzfeed and even viral content hub Bored Panda and attempts by other artists to replicate a similar approach to hair, what started off as hair, wool and hair extensions has ignited a new branch of black hair pride for Africans in Africa, as well as the far-reaching diaspora.

    Not without its haters, Ky has had to endure some ignorant comments on her Instagram account, but the response has been overwhelmingly warm and powerful – particularly because of the authenticity, warmth and love which so obviously drives each image.

  • Impossible is nothing for Landa Willie’s TWENTY Mag

    “Not so long ago, I got an amazing team together to start an online mag (only but a few of the crazy things I have done),” declares the opening line of Landa Willie’s editor’s note in TWENTY Mag’s first issue. And while most of us may agree that self-publishing is a crazy, risky business, the finished product only speaks to bravery, raw creativity and the drive to do something different.

    Despite ever-decreasing circulation numbers in print, the scourge of fake news, and the financial hurdles of trying to get a publication off the ground, there is no doubt that young South African readers are still asking for content made for them by them. TWENTY provides just that. In an intelligent balance between strong written content, interviews that let the characters speak for themselves, and the most luxurious Highsnobiety rivalling look and feel, Landa (and her amazing team) have produced something that shouts down every naysayer who says self-pubishing is a juice not worth the squeeze.

    The magic of TWENTY lies in its ability to be both pragmatic and hugely optimistic. While some of the content deals with the marginalization of black women and the difficulties around creative work, the tone is still incredibly uplifting. Drawing from Kendrick Lamar’s black pride anthem, the first issue was entitled We Gon’ Be Alright – setting the tone for an odyssey of content which says to the black creative that anything is possible.

    “I actually took a few months out to rethink and work on our brand identity. I mean in all honesty when we started Twenty, we did it out of passion and didn’t realy think about the project as a business. When we launched the first issue I realised how we can turn it into a business with the response it received,” explains Willie.

    Although the magazine has only produced three issues (with number four on the way), available on ISSU for free, there are the ingredients for a powerhouse product. Between minimalist art direction, careful advertising placement and content that reflects the mood of its young, black, creative reader, there is space for the publication to grow and evolve. And Landa has already got some serious heavy-hitters gracing the pages.

    From an interview with Creative Nestlings’ famed founder Dillion Phiri, to moody lifestyle and editorials featuring the likes of Manthe Ribane, there is no doubt that this team sits at the bleeding edge of cool culture. But instead of taking itself too seriously, it delivers an authentic browse through, with something for everyone engaged in the creative process. Landa shares her plans for the next issue, and has set her sights on going beyond the pages of the magazine.

    “One of the most exciting things I am currently working on is a BLVCK QUEER DINNER series with my partner. We will be hosting dinners to raise money for Queer people who has fallen victim to hate crimes, etc. We are hoping to help victims (especially in townships) and families with hospital bills, rehabilitation, funeral costs and more”

    You can find all editions of TWENTY on issu.com

    Credits:

    SisiphoSojola – Features writer

    InganathiMnyasane – Features Writer

    Meegan Mitchell – Contributor

    SibongileMditshwa – Creative Director (Issue #2)

    WongieMafilika – PR coordinator.

    Karl Ndebele – Creative director (Issue #2)

    KB Mawala – Creative Director

  • RUKA: Blending URL and IRL with Zimbabwean artist Nontsikelelo Mutiti

    The braiding of black women’s hair is no simple weekend outing. And as has been shown in more open, public discussions about black hair amongst black women, the process of going to the salon, choosing a style and applying the braids is also being recognized as a series of processes which are cultural, community-driven and the product of intergenerational knowledge and techniques.

    Celebrated Zimbabwean interdisciplinary artist and educator Nontsikelelo Mutiti touches on these and a sea of other points in her umbrella project titled Ruka (to braid, to knit, to weave) – which blends the salon experience of braiding black hair with the digital and a tactile body of ethnographic work.

    She collected salon business cards, spent time in salons both in South Africa and abroad, and unpicked the broader story about black hair, black women, and the intimate interactions between the two. A desperately needed conversation in the face of a lot of documentation which relegates braids to a technique, or a style to be appropriated as part of ‘world culture’.

    I spoke with Nontsikelelo to uncover the process and lessons involved in this body of work.

    Screenshot from braidingbraiding.com

     

    How do the different elements of Ruka (the algorithm conversation, dialogue in the salon, floor tiles, collection of business cards) all connect? What is the central research question?

    Repetition; rule based image making, graphic aesthetic with mathematics at the foundation. How can my work expose the inherent scientific value to important cultural forms from African and other Black cultures such as Hair braiding?

    Why the decision to have so many iterations?

    As a visual maker I am working with a range of tools across spectrum of digital and analogue. Different technologies and aesthetics allow the work to move in different directions towards a range or audiences, registering at different pitch with each approach.

    All the work is intended to interact and create a multifaceted conversation allowing for audience members to engage with the different aspects of the investigation which is a project that addresses, culture, tradition, innovation, migration, language as ideas around aesthetics, process and technology are being grappled with.

    RUKA is a design project, it is social practice, it is anthropology, it is a diary, it is place making and experimentation. The work grows naturally as my interests and learning around the core subject of braiding increase. I don’t have an end point in mind. Braiding is a practice of infinite possibilities and meanings.

    Image from We Buy Gold THREE, On Visibility and Camouflage taken by Darryl Richardson

    Who else was involved in creating this body of work?

    A lot of my work is highly collaborative. I worked with a good friend and colleague Julia Novitch to produce Morning 0, or braidingbraiding.com.

    Haja Jalloh, a former student who graduated with a Bachelor’s Degree in Computer Science has helped me with running braiding workshops, as has Njoki Gitahi, another colleague and friend who is a phenomenal graphic designer. My work always refers back to my life and community.

    What was the value of the project for you as a person?

    I started this project to close a gap in my knowledge around a cultural practice that I wanted to learn for myself. I wanted to know how to braid. I wanted to work as a hair braider to earn money. I think a lot about Black African women as bread winners. We create economies that have complex layers. The project really started there and grew naturally into a visual a social experiment because of my natural inclination towards images and people. It is important to always reinforce the aspect of labour, time and care in the work, just like coding braiding has to be learnt, practiced, perfected. Braiders are skilled and valuable workers.

    Elements of the work and further explanations are available to view on Mutiti’s website.

     

  • Maylee: Fresh CT threads for the cool and confident woman

    There’s something undeniably cosmopolitan about the Maylee showroom. Tucked away above its menswear cousins at Cape Town’s Cornerstore, its sparse rails, immaculate set up, and unassuming air, you can’t help but want to spend the morning trying on absolutely everything.

    And that’s just where the charm of the brand lives – in its delicate balance between celebrating the different female forms, and an immense practicality that make every item completely timeless. Its founder and designer, Molly Kieser, not only makes the brand but embodies it – always elegant and functional all at once.

    “When we first started we had one thing in mind and that was to produce a collection that revolved around comfort and cool. We are staying true to that now, but we definitely have a better understanding of what our customer wants since the first collection dropped,” she explains.

    Described as ‘cool luxury,’ the label samples a range of fit options, from a scrumptious lazy hoodie to structured denim pants, designed to adorn and flatter the body in different ways – depending on what each item is paired with. There’s nothing chop shop or gimmicky Insta glam about Maylee – it’s just good, honest tailoring and the kind of items which make the busy, stylish woman release a sigh of relief. And Molly, like her Sol-Sol founder husband, Matt, is conscious about the role local sourcing and production has to play.

    “The majority of our product is made in Cape Town and some of our other products like our heavily washed denims are produced overseas. In terms of fabrications, some is sourced in South Africa and some of it is sourced overseas. Currently we have a beautiful silk blend t-shirt and French terry hoodie, both made from fabrics we sourced internationally but get sewn up at our factory in SA,” says Molly.

    And the attention to detail in all aspects shows. Almost every item is able to be paired with another, and whether the wearer has a defined aesthetic or prefers to let clothes speak for themselves, the label balances simplicity and opulence in a way that is quite unique. Its success has been immense in such a short space of time, and the brand is growing as it gains more exposure on online platforms, and by being the choice fit for Cape Town and Joburg’s coolest. Molly shares Maylee’s next move with us.

    “We plan on expanding from our current showroom space into a store space. We have started the process already and hoping it all works out. In terms of new collections, we have another one dropping soon and we are really excited about it,”

    To check out the brand, visit their website or Instagram.

    *Shipping is free for the month of August

    Credits:

    Photography: Carl David Jones

    MUA: Kaley Meyer

    Model: Kimberleigh Van der Ventel