Author: Christa Dee

  • Theatrum Botanicum // the botanical world as a stage for politics

    Theatrum Botanicum // the botanical world as a stage for politics

    In a moment where debates about land are at their peak in South Africa, Uriel Orlow‘s Theatrum Botanicum on show at Pool Space in Johannesburg fertilizes ideas around the botanical world as a stage for politics through film, photography, installation and sound. This ongoing project follows the trajectory of most of his work; research-based contemplations with collaborative methodologies, focusing on specific locations and histories, combining various visual evocations with layered narratives.

    The beginning of the project was inspired by an accidental visit to Kirstenbosch Botanical Gardens. Struck by the fact that most of the plant labels were in English and Latin, Orlow began to question what this means in South Africa where there are 11 official languages. This connects to a colonial history of exploration and conquest. Through this process botanists from Europe “discovered” new plants, and proceeded to name and classify them according to European systems of organisation. Through forcefully exporting this methodology for categorization and understanding, it displaced indigenous knowledge systems and views on the world. Orlow seeks to question this forced application of taxonomic methods, and in so doing unearths issues around assumed universality, colonialism and its legacies, plant migration, and how examining the botanical offers insight into labour, race relations, pleasures and sustenance within South Africa’s history.

    The significance of the work is twofold. Firstly, framing plants as databases, organic stores of information. Juicy, fleshy memory banks that can testify to South Africa’s political past and present, and offer alternative entry points from which we can assess and think about history and politics. Secondly, Orlow’s work ascribes plants a form of agency, presenting them as active participants in the link between nature and humans.

    Photography by Austin Malema

    The project offers encounters and observations that are gateways to meditations on the above. Grey, Green, Gold forms part of Theatrum Botanicum, and is up in Gallery 1989 at Market Photo WorkshopThe Fairest Heritage, a single channel video piece within the exhibition, perfectly exemplifies the larger aims of the project. Here Orlow, through his extensive research in the library of the botanical garden, found films that were commissioned in 1963 to commemorate the anniversary of founding Kirstenbosch by documenting its history.

    The film’s main characters – scientists and visitors – are all white, with the only people of colour featured being those who worked on the gardens. Orlow collaborated with artist and performer Lindiwe Matshikiza, who inserts herself in front of these film, viscerally speaking back to their contents. A performative contestation to this archive, placing herself into the frame as a protagonist existing outside of the frameworks of passivity and labour for people of colour created within the archival footage. This work also highlights that plants are not neutral and passive, with flowers attached to ideas around nationhood, segregation and liberation.

    To accompany the work, Orlow teamed up with editor Shela Sheikh on a book that catalogues the different works, but also connects with the research that is the seed from which project continues to grow. Writers were invited to contribute essays that do not necessarily respond to the works directly, but contemplate the thematics that come to the fore through their presence. Other artists with work relating to art, nature and history were also invited to share their work in the book.

    Both exhibition spaces are pollinated with works that share the entanglements between plants and us across time and space. Go inhale the fragrance of latent histories until 21 October at Gallery 1989, and 3 November at Pool Space.

  • Mimi Cherono Ng’ok // a longing for home

    Mimi Cherono Ng’ok // a longing for home

    Kenyan artist Mimi Cherono Ng’ok creates images containing grainy nostalgia. Presented to the viewer like fragments of a dream or memory, they draw you back to your own past, poking at your own glimpses of people and places that remind you of home.

    Describing her practice as a kind of “emotional cartography”, her work carefully balances feelings and experiences of liminal existence. As someone who travels often, this connects to her own experience – being in between places and states of being. Her work documents this feeling of never quite having her feet firmly planted on the ground, a feeling of always being afloat. This sense of anxiety or uprooted feeling that comes from being in flux is present in her images, with her lens taking on the role of a vehicle for memory and simultaneously acting as a device through which to enact the part of an onlooker of her depicted scenes.

    Cherono Ng’ok was born in Nairobi, but moved to Cape Town to study photography at UCT. It was here where she put together her first major bodies of work, and where she first began to unpack some of the themes that remain constant in her work. These include ideas of home, identity, and loss.

    Her images of nature with tropical scenery, displaying palm leaves on the ground and characters on the beach, speak to these themes. Her beautiful inclusion of warmer colours through red and orange hues in conjunction with the colder colours of the beach, imitates a desire for feeling grounded, while fallen leaves and water connect to fluidity and movement; never quite being settled. She becomes present in these images when the viewer is aware of her position as an observer with her lens, heightening a sense of isolation or distance. There it is, the longing for home.

  • offsetculture.art launches poster series pictorial nerve

    offsetculture.art launches poster series pictorial nerve

    pictorial nerve is an ongoing poster series conceived and published by offsetculture.art. The series connects contemporary art, design, illustration and other visual manifestations of culture. I had a chat with offsetculture.art co-founder Lara Koseff to find out more about the recently launched first iteration of this series.

    Please share more about offsetculture.art?

    offsetculture.art is a website that I established with a friend of mine, Ricardo da Silva, offering multiples and printed matter, with a focus on collaboration and featuring artists who work independently. We noted how print and digital worlds have experienced a really effective coalescence in recent years. Multiples are often accessible, easy to disseminate, and still maintain an element of value, which segues nicely with how people tend to buy within a certain price range online. However, locally there appeared to be limited established online opportunities for artists who are starting out, or work independently, outside of the gallery arena – and it’s these artists who I felt could really benefit from such a platform. When we came together to establish the website, Ricardo, who has a finance and computer science background, was coming from the angle of a young collector frustrated by what he could find online. I had been working in the commercial gallery world for almost a decade, and observed how both artists and young collectors felt equally alienated from the traditional art circuit. I felt that South Africa was an even more exaggerated version of the art world at large, with a massive disparity, lack of opportunity, yet enormous talent. I also saw how, interestingly, young artists were starting to try and build their own systems and networks, rather than struggling to find a place within exclusionary existing ones, and found this really compelling. A lot of these alternative initiatives manifest in printed form, editions, zines, artist books, posters, and the dissemination of them is starting to happen online, primarily through social media. We were particularly excited to engage with collectives such as Danger Gevaar Ingozi and Title in Transgression, who are functioning independently in vital ways and shifting the cultural landscape.

    How does this ongoing poster series fit into the aims and ambitions of offsetculture.art?

    It was a meeting of minds between myself and Ricardo, who wanted to focus on creatives coming from a range of perspectives – illustrators, designers, street artists – and I wanted to find a way to bring together image, text and ideas in a hybrid format of a portfolio, a zine, an artist book and an artwork. It’s offering a small curated exploration of diverse talent, and the anatomy of it is simple and pretty open to future expansion or alteration. In a broader sense, it taps into our drive for democratisation, and I’m especially excited about the fact that all of these artists are working outside of traditional spheres, making engaging work, and we’re simply providing another platform for people to know about and access it. Coming from a curatorial background, one of the challenges of working in digital space is how you bring works together in conversation with one another – it’s quite a bit more fragmented and prone to distraction than a physical space – and I was longing to delve into that and explore various solutions to an interesting dilemma. I’m also really interested in exploring how this material can exist within and outside traditional art spaces, both physical and digital.

    Why were posters chosen for the series?

    I think the key idea behind posters was creating accessibly, but also elements of what they represent symbolically and ideologically. Posters date back centuries, are associated with a variety of fields and contexts, from advertising to propaganda, but also became a really important tool of both creative and ideological expression in the Global South, especially in the 20th century. Poster portfolios in particular are really fascinating to me in that they bring together so much in one small slip case, they can expand and contract, and can in a sense be curated and re-curated in different ways. It’s like holding the components of an exhibition in your hand.

    Share with our readers how you came to the name ‘pictorial nerve’ for the series?

    In a way I felt that posters are very much associated with the pictorial, but I love how this term has become so very broad and tricky. To illustrate something does not merely mean representing it, and there exists a playfulness in terms of the constructed nature of images. So it was a play on “optic nerve”, and what we see and perceive, and how we depict that. I also loved the double meaning of “nerve”, and that apart from the transmitter of physical feeling, it also points to boldness or audacity. This is important part of art making for me – I think that the best artists have some form of chutzpah.

    Please unpack the importance of archiving within a moment in time (particularly visual archiving) as pictorial nerve does?

    Again, I feel that there is an important and beautiful nexus between image and text, and that, especially in contemporary art, this is the key component of archiving. I hope that in future series we can work with writers and artists collaboratively, and generate new writing by diverse voices, which I think contributes invaluably to archiving a moment. I do think that the portfolio element offers archival possibility, especially in an exploration of a zeitgeist or a like-minded or comparable ethos. In the build up to this I had come across various historical portfolios, for example Matthew Krouse, a friend, consigned to us a collection of colour posters celebrating both Mozambique’s independence, and the 1st of May Workers day, and Steven Sack revealed to me a portfolio by Taller de Gráfica Popular, an artist’s print collective founded in Mexico in the 1930s, who used art to aid social revolution. These to me are incredible anthologies of collective thoughts and ideas, and I became compelled to try explore this in a contemporary sense with divergent creatives, but not focused on a particular political movement or ideology. On the flip side, having done my MA in heritage studies, I believe that a core component of archiving is having a physical space (as well as a digital one), a “home” or a “safe” space for these materials to live. So obviously we’re not tracking or providing that space, but providing the structure and possibility to continue generating new material.

    How did you select the artists, designers and illustrators who are part of the first iteration of the series?

    Many of the artists were approached based on a conversation that I had with Ciara Moore, who is a brilliant graphic designer who I had worked with. She was interested in making new prints with us, and I put forward this idea to her of a portfolio that doesn’t necessarily distinguish between artists, designers and creatives, and embraces the confluence of various disciplines and worlds. She came back with some suggestions of artists who she was excited about who she follows on Instagram primarily, and I also explored a bit online and came across artists who I felt were traversing various contexts. I had also been speaking to certain artists about the format of posters, especially Malebona Maphutse, who explores the language of street flyers and popular wisdom in her work. She in turn put me in touch with designers and illustrators who she respected including Musonda Kabwe and Kgabo Mametja.

    Growing up in the 1980s and ‘90s, I became obsessed with was loosely known as The Pictures Generation; appropriation and montage all pointing to the way in which images are constructed and reconstructed. Barbara Kruger, Cindy Sherman, Richard Prince, Lorna Simpson – these names were all mainly foreign to the artists we landed up approaching, which I thought made the parallels even more interesting. I think that the mechanism of appropriation and reconstruction perhaps becomes easier in the digital age, but at the same time more challenging to make something truly powerful. What interested me in these artists was the unexpected diversity of their references, and the lateral way in which they used the digital medium to reformat techniques and ideas. Luca Boni is a digital painter influenced by Italian masters; Lunga Ntila uses collage to digitally reclaim control of identities forced into fragmentation, influenced by the male-dominated movements of cubism and post-expressionism but also radical feminism; Octavia Roodt employs comic strips to tell Namibian Voortrekker myths; r1. combines the language of the street with Mondrain colours and values.

    What does offsetculture.art envision for the series?

    I hope that we can do at least one portfolio a year, and also play with different mediums, and go in unexpected directions. I’m especially excited to potentially work more extensively in screen-printing and the simplicity, challenges but also surprises it can offer. As mentioned, I also hope to work with a variety of writers, and bring in essays and interview-based text.

    Who do you see as the audience for this work?

    I think that one of our key initiatives is to emphasise that anyone can be a collector, or an appreciator of art, and with this in mind we’re not targeting a particular audience, but hope to appeal to the culturally conversant public, and people from completely other spheres of interest equally. But something that is important to both myself and Ricardo is that we certainly nurture, but not only focus on a local audience. Participating in the Tijuana Print Fair in Sao Paulo is hopefully the beginning of a quest to embrace the international nature of contemporary art, specifically focussing on the Global South. I feel that this can not only engender a more dynamic conversation, but also opens up significant opportunities for young and independent artists.

    Share more about you spending time in Brazil for the Bienal?

    I was invited some time ago by a Brazilian friend of mine, Paula Borghi, to curate a video programme, and we’re collaborating with Thelma Vilas Boas who runs an interesting cultural space called Lanchonete<>Lanchonete in Rio de Janeiro on the 1st of September. We’re actually featuring videos by Malebona Maphutse and Lunga Ntila, who are included in the portfolio, as well as several other artists including Thenjiwe Niki Nkosi, Nastio Mosquito, Reza Farkhondeh & Ghada Amer, amongst others. We had always planned it to happen around the time of the Sao Paulo Bienal, so I’ll certainly be going through to that as well.

    How can people get access to pictorial nerve?

    We’ll be launching it online in September – the portfolio and individual posters will all be available from our website – and we’ll also be doing a series of physical events in various parts of Johannesburg, specifically as part of the Keyes Art Mile Art and Design Saturday in October, which will be focused on editions and alternative platforms and collectives.

    Anything else you would like to mention about offsetculture.art or pictorial nerve?

    We’re excited about the potential for metamorphosis in the contemporary art sphere, especially what’s possible through collaboration, and being resourceful. I’m hoping to explore more of that in the coming years, and that we can help motivate for a more connected art community.

     

  • Real Madrid – searching for empathy and unpacking emotionality

    Real Madrid – searching for empathy and unpacking emotionality

    When visiting the Real Madrid website, one is introduced to their work through a background video of adolescents hanging out on a beach, and a still image of a white flower layered onto the video. Black text in the top left corner of the page provides another gateway to experiencing their work. Welcome to their world of ambiguity.

    Founded in 2015 by Bianca Benenti Oriol and Marco Pezzotta, and currently based in Switzerland, Real Madrid’s focus is on collective conditions, sexual development, and their emotionalities. The name plays on that of the Spanish football team, and this choice speaks directly to ideas around branding, authorship and the insurrection of subjugated knowledges or ways of existing. Perhaps one day someone will be searching online for images of a soccer team and among the results will be queer art.

    Photography by BAK

    In an interview, the duo explained to me that their choice to work together came out of casual collaboration. After taking part in an exhibition together in Italy, and feeling how they were able to sync organically, they took on the collective name.

    “With our identity, we question authorship by claiming our status as an imitation of an overpriced brand, basing our practice where politics crash with intimacy. The spectacle of sport is often connected with nationalism by media systems, extending a symbolic competition between nations. The interest in miscommunication led to a name that makes it problematic to spread and track images of the work on any search engine,” they state in a text introducing their work.

    Photography by James Bantone

    Glass, wood, silver wool, ink, bicycles, and fruit. Their chosen mediums vary, with the selection inserting an additional layer of the work to peel open. There is a sense of ambiguity in some of their work, and this empowers viewers to be active in their engagement with Real Madrid’s art.

    Earlier this year the duo spent a month in Johannesburg, interacting with the Gay and Lesbian Archive (GALA). The process of sifting through the research becomes a form of art in itself, searching for the personal, the emotional and entry points of empathy, tying into the fact that their work is mostly narrative-based. Reflecting on their interaction with the archive, they mention that, “You try to create empathy with the document, which is a very important tool for research.”

    Photography by James Bantone

    They spent most of their time inside the Cooper-Sparks Queer Community Library and Resource Centre, which was started over 25 years ago in a community member’s closet. Back then only those who knew about it were able to access it. In their word, the history behind the library brings to the fore questions around what the political aspects are of shifting between a public and a private context, making GALA an archive that transcends these classifications.

    They also expressed that there is a kind of familiarity when traveling to big cities, even though the languages, experiences and, references are different. It could be a kind of familiarity that comes from a sense of being people who live within an urban space and could act as a contributor to their desire to visit the gallery at GALA. Therein recognizing that certain sensibilities or outlooks may be influenced by where a person is from, but there is some sort of overlap in stories. Familiarity in thinking through and possibly struggling to untangle signifiers for femininity and masculinity, and the forced division between these. There is also finding ways of thinking about the emotionality of sexual development, and what it means to be a sexual being.

    To keep up with Real Madrid’s work follow them on Instagram or check out their website.

    Photography by James Bantone
  • Kadara Enyeasi – playing with moods, emotions and perspective

    Kadara Enyeasi – playing with moods, emotions and perspective

    With a background in architecture, and a general interest in art and design since his younger years, Kadara Enyeasi moved towards a photography practice that includes portraiture, art and fashion. This self-taught photographer plays with structure and perspective, often making the urban environment a key component in how he positions those who appear in his photographs.

    From discovering photography in junior high when his father gave him a camera, he began by photographing friends and family. He then moved on to experiment with self-portraiture, specifically between 2010 and 2014. This work involves a personal examination of the human form and mind, as well as demonstrates his technical skill and creative execution.

    Reflecting on this Kadara explains in an interview with Nataal that, “At first I was interested in using it to see myself, and how I interacted with the world. I’d adopt various poses that I might subconsciously exhibit in public, whether to appear flamboyant or a recluse. It was about trying to understand myself and why I am how I am. Most of the work from this period, 2010-2014, I called ‘Human Encounters’, and then I broke that down into smaller studies.” Although there may not be a central idea in all of his work, there is a central subject which he explores in different contexts and from different angles – the Black male body. His images channel thoughts and personal interrogations around body politics and representation, while using moods and emotions to soften the poses of the people he photographs.

    Recently Kadara has been doing more social documentary work and looks at how people interact with urban living and country life in various parts of Nigeria, particularly Lagos and Kaduna. He has also started experimenting with collage work, enjoying the process of contrasting images, and combing them to create a completely new one.

    Check out his Instagram to keep up with his work.

  • Bubblegum Club Mix Vol 17 by DJ Bigger

    Bubblegum Club Mix Vol 17 by DJ Bigger

    Can you tell us a bit about DJ Bigger?

    I, Makabongwe Nzuza, popularly known as “Dj Bigger” was born on the 6th of April in the Southern township of Durban – KwaMashu, M Section. I attended Sondelani Primary School in eNtuzuma, where I was a leader of an ‘’Isicathamiya” group, part of a gospel group as well as part of the school’s choir group. I then completed my junior studies at Eastberry Seconday School in Phoenix.

    My teenage years were filled with music in a very unbelievable way, so much that even the taxis I commuted in would blast music to school and back! Some of the joys of being born in the rhythmic land of KwaZulu Natal.

    Share more about your musical background – who or what sparked your interest in gqom?

    Growing up in the groovy, talent-filled, iconic township influenced my love for music as every second house in my neighbourhood played LOUD music, simultaneously and religiously each and every Friday; marking the beginning of the weekend and an end to a gruesome week for the working class.

    Not only that; but growing up, music was almost the only thing that brought “free” joy to people, its effectiveness in provoking happy feelings, thus creating memorable moments was fascinating.

    I started DJing in 2006 at private functions and then moved to club spaces where I realized that this is something I’m passionate about and was good at. In the year 2010 I then started to focus on building myself as a brand.

    How do you like to describe your sound?

    I would describe my sound as the township version of Electro Music. Gqom music is a very distinct sound that originates from the Township (Ekasi).

    Who are your musical influences?

    My late friend, DJ Deep, who was also my mentor, played a very big role in influencing and shaping my musical journey. I used to tag along whenever he went to deejay at events/private functions. Basically he is the one that taught me how to deejay. Currently, there are a lot of people that I look up to in the music industry, namely DJ Sox, DJ Tira, DJ Bongs, etc.

    What do you want to express with your music? What emotions should it evoke within the listener?

    I believe that music is universal. Though this is an African sound, I wish for people all over the world to be able to feel and express their feelings through the music that I share with them. I want people to dance and feel liberated.

    You are part of Miaso Studios. Please share more about it and your involvement?

    I grew my brand locally overtime and quickly became one of the most respected disc jocks amongst my peers. The group was started by DJ Deep. Along the way I started working with Dj Kaybee, Ayo and Tropika. Together we formed a music production conglomerate and called it “MIASCO FAM”.

    Why do you think gqom has become such a huge sound in SA, and subsequently, abroad?

    Gqom Music is a unique sound and I think its uniqueness is recognized by everyone across the globe.

    When did your partnership with FAKA begin and how is it going?

    I started working with the group FAKA last year (2017) in August. They got my details from Jamal. They contacted me and the rest was history. Currently it is going very well. We have great chemistry and share a similar love and passion for music. They are my chosen family.

    What are you working on at the moment?

    I have been touring with FAKA and currently working on new music that I’ll be releasing soon.

  • Prince Gyasi – instilling hope through imagery

    Prince Gyasi – instilling hope through imagery

    Ghanaian photographer Prince Gyasi likes to describe himself as an artistic vessel who uses imagery to express how he feels, and to share what he cares about. Primarily producing portraits and documentary photography, his work creates a collage of his city and the people who live in it. Playing with colour, shadow and composition, he has developed a style that beautifully captures planned and candid moments. With Instagram operating as an online gallery and portfolio for his work, he is able to curate the collective visual narrative for his photography, pushing against the fetishized and problematic representations of African cities by outside photographers.

    Reflecting on his portraiture, Prince expressed in an interview with Sukeban Magazine that, “Portraits are part of human history…Portraits go way back; it helped people keep track of growth, express creativity and record memories. I believe portraits are important in our generation; it helps you communicate your emotions to others just by the way you look. As a photographer when you’re taking portraits you’ve got to be the mirror! People have to look at their portraits and say I feel dull today, I’m happy today, or I feel I’m really pretty or fine. It helps people grow and tackle their day to day issues with hope.”

    His most recent project continues with the idea of instilling hope in people. Prince co-founded Boxed Kids with his partner Kuukua. This nonprofit project aims to help creative children in Jamestown with getting access to education. The name “Boxed Kids” refers to the fact that many of the children Prince came across in the small fishing district were in places and situations that are difficult to come out of without any assistance. Inspired by an event that his mother organised to help underprivileged children, his aim was to go further by helping them to develop their creative talents through education.

    The initial plan was to launch a campaign that offered direct access to school, but with this own limited means this was not an option. Working within his own creative practice, Prince took photographs of the city, some of the children and the conditions in which some people live, and shared this on Instagram. Titled ‘Boxed Kids: Accra, Ghana’, this work received an increasing number of likes and shares, and this response encouraged him to set up a gofundme page for some of the children he has gotten to know, with the hope that this will assist with the initial goal.

  • Sabelo Mlangeni’s ‘Umlindelo wamaKholwa’ // exploring faith and friendship

    Sabelo Mlangeni’s ‘Umlindelo wamaKholwa’ // exploring faith and friendship

    The exhibition Umlindelo wamaKholwa features the work of multiple prize-winning and internationally exhibited Johannesburg-based photographer Sabelo Mlangeni. The exhibition is a collaboration between Mlangeni and Dr Joel Cabrita, a historian based at the University of Cambridge, and is accompanied by a 128 page catalogue. Having shown at Cambridge, the exhibition is at WAM, curated by Kabelo Malatsie. I interviewed Mlangeni to find out more about his collaboration with Cabrita and the images selected for the show.

    Could you please share more about the cover for the catalogue and the symbol that appears on it?

    For a long time I’ve been interested in the other world that we access through the visions of healers, prophetesses and prophets. Some years ago a vision came to me through them about a great ancestral spirit that had something like a ‘gift’ for me. But whenever the spirit was ready to give it to me, it found me not in the right ‘place’. So the symbol on the cover of the catalogue is that gift. We also find this symbol in the entrance to the exhibition space at WAM, presented as part of iLadi (a Zionist altar cloth). This iLadi was erected as my own personal response to this vision.

    The title of the exhibition and your own spiritual awakening are tied together. The people and the spaces you photograph are also well known to you. Please unpack the importance of the insider perspective you present, particularly for subject matter that has often been explored and represented by people from the outside?

    Many of my bodies of work are produced through long periods of spending time with people. For example, in my work Country Girls as well as Men Only I built up really close relationships of trust, for example, living in the all-mens’ hostel of George Goch for stretches of time. And when makingCountry Girls I spent a lot of time in the town of Ermelo where many of the pictures were taken. When I would visit Ermelo for the weekend I would stay with the same people I was taking photographs of.  And with UmlindelowamaKholwa, it was a very similar process. This body of work presents the intimacy that comes through a long process of building up trust with people. And an example of this kind of intimate moment is seen in photographs like Nhlapho, Mama Thebu, Mama Ndlovu, SweetmamaKwamabundu, Fernie (2009).

    Some of the photographs appear to be candid shots, while others capture posed moments. Please unpack your decisions around these choices while photographing, and how you combined these in the image selection for the show?

    There are many images where you get a direct and close access to the face of the person I’m photographing. And these are important in giving people a strong sense of identity, and they are the moment when the people I’m photographing engage with me directly. But there are other moment when people forget that the photographer is there, and that you’re part of them, moving among them. These are the moments when the photographer becomes invisible, you’re no longer this guy with the camera. They know that you’re there, but they’re not worried about the camera.

    Viewers become aware of the camera through effects that blot out faces, etc. Why do you think it was important for you to include such images? And how do they connect to the overall vision for the show?

    Many of these images weren’t deliberate, they happened by accident. I was processing in the darkroom and sometimes at the end of the process, you find you have that kind of image where the heads or faces aren’t visible like In Time. A Morning After Umlindelo and UmlindelowamaKholwa. Initially I overlooked these images, and didn’t include them in the body of work. But over time as I thought and questioned the meaning of this body of work, I felt that these photographs fitted into my whole way of thinking about the work. So the importance of them is that I didn’t choose them in an instant. And then at a later time I brought them in because I felt they spoke to these personal questions that I have, thinking around identity and loss of identity in the church.

    How did you and Joel Cabrita come to find out about each other’s work? And how did the idea for this collaboration come to be?

    In fact, Joel found out about me first, she’d known my work for a while (particularly my series Country Girls) and asked if we could meet. Her work focuses on the history of Zionism in South Africa and she was interested in collaborating with a photographer working on the same topic, but from their own different perspective. We had a coffee in Joburg and chatted, and she found out that I was also myself a Zionist, which she found very interesting, and also that I was from Driefontein, which was a very important place in the early history of Zionism in South Africa. She then sent me an article of some of her research on Zionism, which I found very important and interesting, and made me think about how a collaboration could emerge. When we grow up in Christian families, as I did, often we don’t question things. Going into the history of our church is something we hardly do. So the history that I knew of the Zion church didn’t go that deep, and I really found it important to hear more about this from Joel.

    How has Kabelo Malatsie’s curatorial input added to the original presentation of the show which was seen in Cambridge?

    I feel that there wasn’t really an ‘original’ presentation of the show in Cambridge and a ‘second’ one in Joburg, but rather that there have been two very different expressions of this body of work in two different places. Any show exhibited in a new space will be a very different exhibition. In Cambridge, the space where we showed the work was much smaller and it was in the context of a museum filled with ethnographic objects from around the world, including South Africa. So I felt there was this strong need for my images to really take up space and assert themselves. I didn’t want the images to die in that space. I wanted them to have a strong presence. And even at that stage, Kabelo was someone I spoke to a lot about the work. She was one of the first people to see this work when I started engaging with this topic, and really she has been involved in the process from the beginning. In fact, our long-term working relationship goes beyond this project, and beyond this body of work. Our discussions over a long period of time have impacted my ideas.

    Why did you feel the need to rename the exhibition when bringing it to WAM?

    The title of this exhibition is something that I’ve thought about and questioned over a long period of time. Initially it was going to be called ‘Born Again’, and then ‘Amakholwa’, and then ‘Kholwa’ (which it was in Cambridge), and finally ‘UmlindelowamaKholwa’, as it is in WAM. Bringing this work home to South Africa I felt I needed to emphasize the importance of landscape in the South African countryside (something which many of the images portray). And when I think about land, then I also think about the process of waiting for land, and the way in which many South Africans are still waiting for the land to return to them. So ukulinda, or umlindelo, are very important ideas here. And umlindelo, or the night vigil, is one of the most important moments for Zionist communities. During this process of waiting together throughout the night and praying together we find that new relationships and new families are created. It’s a time when community is forged through the experience of waiting together.

    Why do you think that WAM offers the best space for this project to be presented?

    It really fits because the work has moved from a university museum in Cambridge (The Museum of Archaeology and Anthropology) to a university museum in Johannesburg, at WAM. I find universities to be spaces of critical thinking and questioning, so it felt right to have this kind of work exhibited here. And Joel is an academic and works at a university, so it was quite natural for us to build contacts and get to know people here.

    The exhibition will be at WAM until 28 October 2018.

  • Buhle Ngaba – the impact of storytelling

    Buhle Ngaba – the impact of storytelling

    Cogito, ergo sum. A Latin philosophical proposition put forward by Decartes in the 1600s, roughly translating to mean “I think therefore I am”. The work of Buhle Ngaba unintentionally speaks to this proposition, and combines it with her passion for literature and storytelling. This transforms into a statement – I write therefore I am. I speak therefore I am. As an author and actress, words as text or as animated sound are her chosen medium to share her story and impact the narrative of past and current herstory.

    Encouraging people, particularly young women and girls of colour to tell their own stories is one of the motivations for her work. In light of this Buhle wrote the children’s book The Girl Without A Sound. Bringing diversity to the children’s book landscape, this book was born as a response to reflecting on the fairytales young girls are told. Stories with protagonists being blue-eyed princesses with long golden locks, and narratives emphasizing physical beauty. Writing and publishing her book was a way of undoing this framework for fairytales, and putting together words and images that heal, empower and entertain. The story is of a voiceless girl of colour in search of a sound that she can claim as her own. This channels the energy that permeates her practice as a whole – giving power to devices to draw strength from for women of colour in a world that rejects, shames and pushes them down.

    Parallel to her work as a writer and a performer, Buhle is the director of KaMatla, an NPO created to assist and offer guidance in the development of arts in underprivileged communities, and to foster habits of personal and communal storytelling among young people.

    Over the years she has received well deserved recognition for her creative endeavours, including being awarded the Gauteng Youth Premiers award for excellence. She also received two Kanna Theatre Awards for her first play ‘The Swan Song’ which was created during her time at The Royal Shakespeare Company.

    To find some encouragement this women’s month and to keep up with Buhle’s work, follow her on Instagram.

  • Emon Toufanian // fashion editorials and collages of glitchy wonderlands

    Emon Toufanian // fashion editorials and collages of glitchy wonderlands

    The rabbit-hole went straight on like a tunnel for some way, and then dipped suddenly down, so suddenly that Alice had not a moment to think about stopping herself before she found herself falling down a very deep well. – Quote from Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland by Lewis Carrol.

    Emon Toufanian is an artist whose primary mediums are photography and collage. Working in the music industry before, discovering his talents as an artist was a happy accident, and now sees him producing fashion editorials and beautifully trippy collages. His images look as if he has taken inspiration from the imagination of Lewis Carrol and glitch aesthetics, creating his own morphed wonderlands.

    The images he uses for his collages look as if they are melting into one another, while others are torn and overlaid on to others. “I prefer art that’s visceral and lets you decide your own meaning. I try just to create an atmosphere that allows viewers to better understand their desires, pain, dreams, whatever,” Toufanian mentions in an interview with Metal Magazine. This is combined with his ability to make the subjects in both his collages and photography carry a feeling of vulnerability and fierce engagement with viewers. The intention of this is to allow the viewer to construct their own interpretations of his work, and assist them in unpacking their own feelings.

    “Collage is ritualistic to me; I need to be alone and with music. I look for a moment of transcendence when a character or story reveals itself, driven by whatever record is on. Editorial is collaborative so the challenge is finding a compromise between my vision and the reality of what’s possible on set.”

    Working between New York and Paris, he places fragments of these cities in his work. He has been recognised by publications such as Dazed, PUSS PUSS, Vogue Italia and Document Journal among others, with his work being used for covers.

    Fall down a very deep well and go on a visual adventure by visiting Toufanian’s website to view more of his work.

  • Kristina Nichol’s extraterrestrial visual palate

    Kristina Nichol’s extraterrestrial visual palate

    Symbolism channelling various forms of energy and making cosmological references. An extraterrestrial visual palate. This is what defines the work of makeup artist Kristina Nichol.

    Describing herself as an alien, Kristina uses her own face and body, as well as those of models, as blank canvases for her out of this world looks. In our interview, she unpacks how her work is primarily inspired by emotion. “I use this to fuel my creativity,” Kristina explains, “I see and feel in colour. To me this is necessary as a makeup artist because I’m constantly coming into contact with humans and needing to transform/translate their energy as I paint their face.”

    Fascinated with makeup and reworking the parameters of beauty, her practice actively unhinges the structures that dictate the purpose of makeup and the conventions for its application. This is directly communicated with her hashtags and professional Instagram account displaying the words ‘UNCONVENTIONAL BEAUTY’. Wild brush strokes, bleeding foreheads, and brightly coloured blush that is massaged into clouds on the skin. Gold shimmering eyebrows, and pink eyelashes. Models are injected with an alien glow.

    For Kristina, presenting alternative and varied forms of beauty is a necessity. “I think it’s important because it makes people think. It’s not the norm, and as a makeup artist it’s important to use it as a tool to provoke and challenge the superficial mainstream ideals of beauty that we’re constantly held up against.” Having collaborated with recent Future 76 artist Boipelo Khunou, on a project titled ‘Subtle Care’, we see how this approach applies in an artistic manner. With shapes and colours being at the centre of the looks. Recently Kristina also took on the role of makeup artist for the latest Bubblegum Club cover, ‘Turn Up The Volume and Queer the dancefloor‘. This demonstrates Kristina’s versatility, while still keeping her signature touch recognizable.

    “I feel like we’re constantly transforming, and changing. Life is a difficult experience, but I learn more with time how to find peace in myself, and this peace has allowed me to accept myself and accept how I see and do things.” With this in mind, Kristina is working on a series that deals with the human experience and will be collaborating with a writer (who will also be the model) as well as a young photographer. “I’m so excited for this series. it’s the biggest personal project I’ve worked on so far, big big things.”

    To keep up with Kristina’s work follow her on Instagram.

    “Beauty already exists within us. Don’t chase it, embrace it.”

  • MTAGGA – techno music and reclaiming tribal identity

    MTAGGA – techno music and reclaiming tribal identity

    We spoke to co-founder of Cerebral, Joseph Ntahilaja about his sonic style, his debut published mix and the new mix he created specifically to share with Bubblegum Club readers.

    Please introduce yourself, and Mtagga to our readers. Who else did you work with on this, or is it a solo project? And how long have you been making music for? 

    Hi I’m Joseph Mtagga Phillemon Ntahilaja, 20 years of age. I am Jo’burg resident of Tanzanian descent, studying and using myself as a medium on a daily basis. Mtagga is my tribal name, my clan comes from a small village in Tanzania, called Ngara, the people of our tribe are known as ’Waangaza’. Before my Dad’s clan migrated to Ngara, our clan once ruled Burundi and one of the Chiefs was called Mtagga, which translates to ‘day time’. I was obviously born during the day. Personally I view Mtagga as my inner child, because growing up that’s what I referred to as whenever I engaged in a ‘little bit of mischief’, so the connotation got engrained subconsciously. I guess using MTAGGA as my DJ Alias was part of my need to reclaim my tribal identity and also the inner child in me, which I believe is the nucleus of my creativity. It is a fully solo project as it is another part of myself. I’ve been in music for just under a year but for me music was always something I was gonna go into as I am obsessed with the transfer of energy through sound, so was just a matter of finding the right time and gaining access to the resources. Cerebral was a motivating factor too as I kinda said to myself I wouldn’t start it up until I’m ready to play at it too.

     I found ‘Safari Ya Sauti‘ to be a very emotional listen! What was the inspiration behind the mix?

    Techno is a genre with multiple sub-genres and sounds unique to its geographic location. It’s for this reason amongst many others that I really appreciate it. ‘Safari Ya Sauti’ (swahili: Journey of Sound) is an exploration of these sub-genres through my mind. The common theme amongst the track selection though is to evoke high energy and emotion, cause for me dance music is meant to be a tool to escape your reality and enjoy being alive, and that’s what I want my sets to reflect.

    And how would you define your style?

    ‘Safari Ya Sauti’ was my first published mix so in terms of style I was more focused on expressing my versatility. I now have a more solid identity for ‘MTAGGA’ which dwells within the realms of afro-house, tribal and a weird sound I dub as ‘psychedelic hedonism’. Mtagga’s style is a melodic journey through the narratives of my reality and surroundings as a dual-citizen. This is achieved by a story telling approach with the aim for one’s ears to open and soul to dance, my latest mix is a reflection of this identity. I still enjoy jaw-crunching techno though so I have developed a different alias for that style of techno, ‘Ntahilaja’. This sound is a lot more aggressive and dark but the aim is still the same, high energy release.

    Finally, what is the significance of the hyena imagery in the Soundcloud page?

    That image was taken in Serengeti, a national park in Tanzania, the imagery is meant to reflect my spirit animal in an African Forest, if it were South America it would be a Jaguar. I believe I’m pretty similar to a hyena, because like a hyena, I’m laid-back in attitude and I actually a pretty wildlife to be honest, but I’m still a predator. I guess the hyena imagery then serves as a metaphorical symbol of leading a pack on a sonic journey.

    Have a listen to the mix MTAGGA made to be shared on Bubblegum Club below: