Bubblegum Club

Tag: exhibition

  • 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.

    Arte Povera

    Arte Povera
    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. 

    Arte Povera

    Arte Povera
    “Orchestra di stracci” (1968) by Pistoletto Michelangelo
    Arte Povera
    “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.

    Arte Povera
    “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 …”

    Arte Povera
    “Found Object” (1981)
    by Lucas Seage
    Arte Povera
    “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.”

    Arte Povera

    “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. 

    Arte Povera
    “Untitled (Skin)” (1995) Artist- Moshekwa Langa
    Arte Povera
    “Shredded Evidence” (1997) by Willem Boshoff
    Arte Povera
    “Teacher Don’t Teach Me Nonsense” (2023) by Kemang Wa Lehuleru
  • ‘Come Back To Bed’ – rediscovering intimacy

    ‘Come Back To Bed’ – rediscovering intimacy

    The following is written by Robert Tennent, a young man who is sharing his story of emotional healing after sexual assault through an exhibition and book titled ‘Come Back To Bed’. He hopes that by sharing his story it will provide awareness as well as offer a source of comfort and courage for those going through similar experiences.

    I don’t remember much but I do remember how I felt afterward. I remember getting home that night, confused about everything. I knew that I couldn’t be intimate with anyone for a long time.

    I felt like I didn’t know myself. Questioned my sexuality a lot. Extremely confused and pushed people away so I could be alone. I lost a lot of myself during that time. I developed an eating disorder and put my energy into something negative. I chose to remain celibate until I was sure about what I wanted to do, and also to accept what happened to me.

    I met a man who was a total dreamboat. We clicked instantly and I don’t think I will ever forget him. I had it all planned out in my head about how the night would go, and that was the first time I had thought seriously about having sex with someone again. We finished our drinks and decided to walk back to my hotel. We didn’t end up having sex but I knew I wanted to. I asked him if I could see him again soon and he said,“I’d like that”.

    He made sure I was comfortable. He told me he would stop if it was getting too much. He held me and kissed me to make sure I was okay. It was too much for me. I was getting flashbacks and my body rejected it. I told him I couldn’t do it and he stopped straight away. We fell asleep next to each other.

    A few months later I saw him again and we spent the weekend together. It came so naturally and we had a great time with one another. And this time we had sex. And I was okay with it. I had my camera on the side table next to his bed and asked if I could take a photo of him. He said yes so I snapped one picture of him covering his face. I took another one of his legs crossed. I developed them and saved them on my phone.

    I started doing this to everyone I slept with after this. I asked them beforehand and some were hesitant but most were fine with it. I wanted to make sure they were comfortable with it. I wanted to capture the intimacy in the images. I wanted to be able to remember every detail of my time with them. I wanted to be in control of the situation. I knew this was helping me. I had to go through this in order to move forward. I had to rediscover sex again. I knew this was something I wanted to share with the world.

    I began to write about these men. I wrote about how I felt about them. I also wrote about the man that assaulted me. But I decided to exclude that from my book. I read through it again today and I am choosing to share it. I am holding nothing back anymore.

    ‘A pain I would feel many more times in my life.

    But this pain lingered

    I felt as though my body had been tampered with. You cut the wires that went to my mind and switched off some parts of my body.

    I became a stranger in my own body.’

    I live in New Zealand and I rarely hear about these topics. We don’t speak about them in schools. New Zealand has the highest amount of teenage suicide worldwide. Everyone I spoke to about this had no idea, and I’m sure people reading this didn’t know. New Zealanders tend to look at the outside world and we hear these stories going on in the world but there is almost a ‘thank god it doesn’t happen here’ mentality. I have heard the sentence ‘it is worse in a lot of places’. This is not an excuse for us to ignore it in our country.

    To be able to hold the exhibition in my city was a blessing. I wanted to bring people together to talk about this and to bring survivors together to celebrate surviving. The book was a way to get people to speak about the topic. I used every opportunity I could to promote my story and the importance of healing and looking after yourself.

    I want the conversation to continue. There will be people out there who have no idea who I am but they know about my story and my book. That’s enough for me. If someone is speaking about assault and healing, then I have done what I wanted to do. If this conversation was around when I was going through my assault, I think it would have helped me. I want people to be able to know that there is a life after an assault and that it is hard at the time, but you can get through this.

    ‘Come Back To Bed’ is available online.

  • Future 76 // In dealing with the colonial wound

    Future 76 // In dealing with the colonial wound

    Coloniality describes the hidden process of erasure, devaluation, and disavowing of certain human beings, ways of thinking, ways of living, and of doing in the world – that is, coloniality as a process of inventing identifications – then for identification to be decolonial it needs to be articulated as “des-identification” and “re-identification, which means it is a process of delinking

    This statement by Walter Mignolo during a 2014 interview with Rubén Gaztambide-Fernández describes the pervasive nature of coloniality. Certain parallels can be drawn between the tragic events of June 16th, 1976 and the recent Fallist Movement. These historical moments have enacted  ruptures of resistance. Recognizing moments of erasure is crucial to redefining historical narratives and addressing systemic disparities of power. However, ‘the voice’ of youth is not merely a homogenized entity. Issues of representation require a nuanced and considered approach – allowing passage to spaces that have been previously inaccessible. Within the context of contemporary art in South Africa, opportunities for self-representation and exploration are often scarce.

    It is in response to this, that Bubblegum Club has created an annual micro-residency to cultivate the talent of young artists. A group of four womxn have been selected for this years programme – to participate in a series of workshops, close conversation and ultimately exhibit a new body of work at the end of June. The programme has been conceptually framed around decolonial options – to tentatively consider and critique this notion beyond the buzzword.

    Jemma Rose, a self-identified visual activist and Gemini, uses her camera to capture daily realities. She also uses it as a mutual point of contact –  a device to generate encounters with people. Photographic work is in part a family tradition, it has always had an element of familiarity to it, as both her father and grandfather have engaged with the medium.

    Through her work she often works with themes of queerness and queer identity as well as drawing attention to mental health issues. Jemma notes that there are some performative qualities to her photographic work and usually focuses on using her images to convey a message relevant to her experiences. She is interested in locating herself and her work within a larger context based on her personal subjectivities.

    “I initially thought of ‘decolonisation’ in relation to breaking things down. I’m starting to realize that it’s much more than that. There are so many things behind it that you have to unravel…masculinity, heteronormativity and sexism are also all part of it. You need to slowly start unraveling it so that you can see the bigger picture.”

    This sentiment echoed by Mignolo “Patriarchy and racism are two pillars of Eurocentric knowing, sensing, and believing. These pillars sustain a structure of knowledge.” (2014). Thus through untangling the history of colonization, racisim and the patriarchy must also be addressed.

    Boipelo Khunou is currently in her final year of Fine Arts at Wits. “It’s been an interesting journey trying to find out what this so-called-fine-art-world is – what it means to be making art and making work.” This process can often be dissolusioning, especially once you realise how the elements of capital and nepotism are entertwined in the system.

    As a multi-diciplinary artist, Boipelo focuses her practice on photography, print and digital media. Thematically she works through ideas of personal power. “I use to reflect about the things that I experience. Experience is one of the most important parts of my work.” Through her work she investigates the kinds of spaces it is possible to find and claim power. She describes how oftentimes it’s within the walls of the institution that power is forcibly relinquished and autonomy is lost.

    “I didn’t know anything about decolonization until Fees Must Fall.” During the movement, the concept gained an immense amount of traction. Pedigogical systems and western epistemology within the university and beyond were challenged. “After the protests, so many people I know went through this weird depression because they realized that institutions have so much power, but what does that mean for people who want to dedicate their lives to decolonial practices?.”

    “The interesting thing is to actually see how you can put decolonization into practice. You can do all the readings, go to the talks, go to all these places that advocate for it, but what does it mean to practice it every day? I think that it is a very complex thing, it’s something that challenges me. You realise that there are so many aspects of your being and how you operate in life that you need to figure out how to prevent institutions and conditioned ideas to creep back into your life – it’s a constant battle.”

    Natalie Paneng is a 21-year-old artist and student. Her background in set design gives her a unique application of her use of space. Her work is often located virtually as she explores what it means to engage with the internet as a black womxn. The mode in which she does this is often through the use of alter egos. Hello Nice is a character she created on youtube and utilizes the ‘vape wave’ aesthetic.

    Recently Natalie created a zine called Internet Babies, it chronicals the profiles of five girls: TrendyToffy @107_, Black Linux otherwise known as the Mother of Malware, Silverlining CPU, Fuchsia Raspberry Pi and Coco Techno Butter. It explores their relationship to digital space and how they’re the “fiber of the internet.”

    She decribes how, “trying to find myself is like the decolonization of myself. Learning how to push those boundries and be more radical as well as owning the need for decolonization and acknowledging that it’s going to have to start with me.”

    Tash Brown is a young painter who approaches the concept of White Suburbia as well as investigating her place and participation within that space. While working through the lens of decolonization she describes how “white suburbia becomes a distortion of reality”, one which is also often still racially segregated. Her distorted paintings are often a grotesque depiction of the suburbs.

    As a white artist, she is critical of her own voice. Noting that, “it’s a time and a space in South Africa where black artists should be prioritized. So I guess I’ve struggled to find myself relevance in the art world, but through the critique of my own cultural issues and the problematics is a way that I can approach it, without having my voice crowding out other voices.”

    Credits:

    Photography & Styling: Jamal Nxedlana

    Makeup: Orli Meiri

    Photography and styling assistant: Lebogang Ramfate
  • CUSS Group and 1.1 to present new surreal performance ‘Why Die to go to Heaven’ at Alt_Cph 18

    CUSS Group and 1.1 to present new surreal performance ‘Why Die to go to Heaven’ at Alt_Cph 18

    Alt_Cph is an independent exhibition bringing together selected contemporary artist-run and alternative exhibition spaces across Europe. This year there is a dedication to presenting new performance art.

    Beginning today and taking place at FABRIKKEN for Kunst og Design in Copenhagen, Alt_Cph 18 will continue until Sunday. The idea for the exhibition is that it will be in constant development throughout its three day presence. Each performance will leave an artefact or mark behind, as an acknowledgement of what took place. In this way the exhibition will have various artistic components that will culminate into a complete, frozen form by the ending of the exhibition on Sunday evening. Tying the displayed content together is Alt_Cph 18’s design – a giant metal grid and bright pink floor making up the body of a large living sculpture.

    Art platform 1.1 will be participating in this year’s exhibition in collaboration with art collective CUSS Group. The collective will be presenting their new performance Why Die to go to Heaven – an open-ended and surreal work that re-stages one of the most iconic camera tricks employed by Vukani Ndebele, a Durban based filmmaker who specialises in lo-fi horror movies.

    In conjunction with the exhibition is a programme of talks, lectures and seminars presented by artists and theorists with a theoretical focus.

  • (BUT) WHAT ARE YOU DOING ABOUT WHITE SUPREMACY? // an exhibition and programme reflecting on racial tension, representation and the Black experience

    (BUT) WHAT ARE YOU DOING ABOUT WHITE SUPREMACY? // an exhibition and programme reflecting on racial tension, representation and the Black experience

    London-based, multidisciplinary art collective sorryyoufeeluncomfortable in collaboration with The Gallow Gate present the exhibition and programme (BUT) WHAT ARE YOU DOING ABOUT WHITE SUPREMACY? as part of the Glasgow International 2018 Supported Programme. For the exhibition collective members Christopher Kirubi, Halima Haruna, Rabz Lansiquot, Mayfly Mutyambizi, Imani Robinson and Jacob V Joyce respond to the programme title. The exhibition will be surrounded by talks, workshops, performances and a film screening, with the intention of inviting audiences to engage with questions related to racial tensions, representation, translation and the experiences of people of colour. I interviewed Imani and Rabz to find out more about sorryyoufeeluncomfortable and the programme they have curated.

    Please share more about the Baldwin’s Nigger Reloaded project and how it led to the formation of sorryyoufeeluncomfortable.

    The Baldwin’s Nigger Reloaded project was started by Barby Asante [London-based artist, curator and educator] and Teresa Cisneros [cultural producer who has worked as arts manager, curator and arts educator] in 2014. They did a call out for young artists and thinkers to respond to Horace Ové’s 1968 film Baldwin’s Nigger; a documentary in which James Baldwin gives a speech and answers a series of questions from a London audience. Over 10 weeks we came together to respond to Horace Ove’s 1968 film Baldwin’s Nigger, focusing on the contemporary relevance of the themes that emerge in the film, and James Baldwin’s thought more generally. We produced artworks, performances and workshops which were showcased in a one-day event at Rivington Place [visual arts centre in London]. It was this project that brought the collective together and kick started our journey. Baldwin’s Nigger Reloaded was developed into a performance created by Barby Asante which has been shown at Nottingham Contemporary, Art Rotterdam, Tate Liverpool & The James Baldwin Conference, Paris, and will also be shown as part of Glasgow International Festival in May.

    Please share more about the name for the collective, and the thinking behind making this the collective name?

    During our residency at Iniva [Institute of International Visual Arts in London] in 2014, we knew we wanted to take the collective beyond the BNReloaded project and our initial reasons for coming together as a group. sorryyoufeeluncomfortable was a brilliant fit for us. It articulated what we couldn’t always vocalise in art spaces, which are so often spaces of privilege, exploitation and palatable politics. As a majority non-white, non-heterosexual group of artists and thinkers we were often made to feel unwelcome in art spaces, with both our politics and our being-in-the-space always seeming to make other people flinch. sorryyoufeeluncomfortable is a flipping of the script. The name operates with multiplicity, it’s shady and sarcastic and on-the-nose and also an act of care and recognition for each other.

    How has the collective evolved over the years?

    The collective began with the BNReloaded project, with 16 members who were between 18 and 25 and artist Barby Asante & curator Teresa Cisneros as our mentors and primary producers. The collective actually works more like a network or community of artists now, who are working around similar themes and having concurrent conversations, so members appear and disappear on a project by project basis. At the moment the collective is being led by 4 people, with Rabz Lansiquot and Imani Robinson producing, programming and curating the work and Jacob V Joyce and Zviki Mutyambizi in supportive roles. We also have a fluid group of contributors and mentors, including Barby and Teresa who have remained close collaborators. The work shifts according to people’s primary interests but the central thread is always radical & liberatory politics and what it means to be living and working in the current climate.

    Where did the title for the programme come from?

    If you’ve ever asked a white person (be they a friend or a stranger) what they are doing about white supremacy, you’ll probably have an anecdote about a slow descent into an array of exaggerated emotions ranging from anger, to tears, to shouting and storming out. If you’ve never asked this question, brace yourself. The title (BUT) WHAT ARE YOU DOING ABOUT WHITE SUPREMACY? acts both as a refusal (you come here expecting me to tell you what to do, but I only show you my art and make you see what you already know) and an acknowledgement that we are forced to share our lives with white supremacy. The question is all of ours… The question looms and it persists… the question is tiresome… the question is discomforting. The 6 Black artists in the show respond in loose or direct ways to the title question, for example, they may invert the question in order to ask: “What is white supremacy doing to you?”, or they may suggest that as Black artists, to make work of any subject matter, or of none at all, is to resist, to survive and to “do something”.

    Share with our readers the visual choices for the title (including the word ‘but’ in brackets and writing the title in capital letters)

    We knew that the audience for GI, and many art festivals, is mainly white and largely made up of arts professionals. As Black artists we wanted to speak to the consumption of the work of artists of colour, which is often at our own expense. The title is as much an address to our audience as it is a provocation for the artists – who cannot help but be faced with the question. Audiences are engaging with our work, which is variably about Black pain and Black death, but what are they doing to address their complicity in that, or to amplify the voices of those already fighting for liberation? What are the art-world audiences doing about sustainable living and working conditions for Black artists? And how are they engaged in material transformation within the institution?

    The capital letters signify the affect and the urgency embedded in the articulation of this question, the heaviness of the question and the way it feels somewhat impenetrable to exist or escape as a Black person in this world. Sometimes a shout reaches further than a whisper…. or sometimes a shout is the only way you will be heard. And the brackets are there as a preconceived comeback to a series of tired, self-preserving responses that do not answer the question.

    Why do you think it is important to combine making and writing for the interrogation of the title?

    The artists in this show Halima Haruna, Jacob V Joyce, Christopher Kirubi, Rabz Lansiquot, Mayfly Mutyambizi and Imani Robinson all have varying practices. sorryyoufeeluncomfortable is a multi-discplinary collective; a community who make things and who write poetry, songs and prose to activate their practice. (BUT) WHAT ARE YOU DOING ABOUT WHITE SUPREMACY? is a personal and a political question and we wanted to be able to respond however we liked, or however we could. Sometimes our responses can be vocalised, or put into words, and other times different modes of expression are better able to articulate an answer.

    Why do you think it is important for the exhibition to be surrounded by conversations, workshops and performances?

    A core part of sorryyoufeeluncomfortable’s work is public programming – creating intentional spaces for radical study and dialogue; it’s very much ingrained in what we do. We wanted the chance to engage with the range of topics and ideas that are present in the work, and to be in dialogue with our audiences who we believe offer as much to us as we can to them.

    It’s important to have multiple entry points to the work; to make the work and the ideas surrounding it as accessible as possible for those who it concerns directly, which is all of us in our distinct ways. We also exist within a wide community of artists, filmmakers and writers who have a lot to say; our programming provides a non-hierarchical space within which to engage with multiple perspectives and draw connections.

    Please share more about your thinking when putting the structure of the programme together?

    We wanted to give our GI audience a taster of each of the kinds of activations we programme. We facilitate workshops & seminars, radical study reading groups, and we also curate film screenings and exhibitions. When we are programming we always aim to create a space for popular education, that is, a democratic space for knowledge sharing in all directions, rather than a one-way street to educate our audiences. In that sense, the structure of the programming also invites audiences to engage in conversation and to participate in the work, rather than solely to consume it.

    Please share more about Black British Shorts and why you felt you wanted to have the screening be a part of the programme?

    Whilst we were ICA Young Associates in 2017, we curated a programme of shorts films by and concerning the lives and experiences of Black British people. It was a really wonderful event for us personally, as the submissions we received reflected what we already knew from experience, but also showed us new and varying perspectives. The films were of such a fantastic standard; we were really proud to be able to share them. The audience at GI is pretty international so we just wanted to share some of the films again and showcase our extended community of talented Black brits.

    Who do you imagine as your audience? And how do you think they will react to or process the exhibition and the programme you have put together?

    We definitely hope that our work appeals to Black & POC folk, particularly queer folk, who are also interested in art and radical politics. Those are the people that we make the work for and put events on for and that tends to be the majority of our audience for our work based in London because there’s a pretty strong Queer POC creative community there. We hope that the kind of work we do resonates with the POC community in Glasgow too.

    However, we are totally aware of the demographics of UK arts & culture audiences. They are overwhelmingly white and middle-class for a number of reasons and this means that a significant amount of events and exhibitions which deal directly with race politics have a markedly white audience-base. It’s always difficult to balance the desire to create work and share that work with audiences, and the oftentimes disheartening feeling you get when that audience doesn’t reflect your community. This also mixes with uncertainty around what exactly those audiences are taking away, is it simply that they attended this ‘cool’ thing about Black art, or do they actually leave with a changed perspective and a plan for active allyship? – Many people will come to the exhibition expecting it to give them answers to the title question. That’s not the purpose of this show, and that’s part of the gag.

    How will the exhibition be constructed and how have you planned to have the various artworks speak to each other?

    The process of constructing the exhibition had several parts to it. It began with commissioning the artists: we put together a concept that was broad enough for multiple interpretations but that had a single thread that would tie everything together. As curators we wanted to work with artists whose work and practice we knew well, as this gives us the kind of trust you need to build an artist led curatorial model where all involved are committed to the process of working collectively. Knowing our artists well, and being in conversation with them already, meant we could leave them to their devices and allow the show to come together organically. The magic really happened during the install. When we entered the space we didn’t know what it was going to look like when we finished, and that allowed us the freedom to make it look however we wanted. It was a collective process of trial and error, and of trusting the process and each other implicitly.

    As a collective what are some of the texts you use as a foundation for how you think about Blackness, the Black existence, white supremacy, representation and translation? Why do these texts appeal to you?

    Because of our origins as a collective James Baldwin is one of our central inspirations because of his employment of loving rage in all of his writings. – There are a lot of readers in our collective and we often read texts together as a collective and as part of public programming. We’ve held events around the work of Sylvia Wynter, Frank B Wilderson III, Fred Moten, Stuart Hall, Audre Lorde, Christina Sharpe, Katherine McKittrick, Black Quantum Futurism, Octavia Butler and CLR James. Our collective conversations around Blackness are always evolving, the more we read and speak to each other, depending on who we are collaborating with, and with each project we work on, wherever we are in the world.

    Is there anything else about the collective, the exhibition or the programme that you would like to mention?

    We don’t get paid enough to do the work we do and nor does any individual or arts collective of colour we know. It’s a real problem in the art world, never mind the rest of the ‘worlds’. Ultimately, we work because we have to and because we love what we do – but this shit is unsustainable.

    (BUT) WHAT ARE YOU DOING ABOUT WHITE SUPREMACY will be on from 19 April – 20 May.

  • The Human Touch and Sensibility Inherent in the Photographic work of Senay Berhe

    The Human Touch and Sensibility Inherent in the Photographic work of Senay Berhe

    Senay Berhe is a self-taught image creator from Stockholm, Sweden predominantly known for his work in the film industry. But what needs to be foregrounded among his other talents, is his still imagery. His creation of visual eye candy. Eye candy coated with deep depth of field, contrasted areas that melt into darkness, natural lighting and settings, traditional composition and rich tones. Silhouetted forms are lent a godlike stature with a magnificent glow around their faces, an appraisal of beauty perhaps? Moving away from his sweeping portraits, you are met with halting documentary images so vivid that they come across as the actual occurrence captured, not just a copy of real life.

    His day-to-day profession as a film director has granted him access to the world as a traveler and he has thus been able to create images in New York, across African cities, as well as in the city he grew up in.

    Fixated with images ever since he can remember, he was determined to find a career related to their production. Affirming his passion for the still image he expresses, “It was about two years ago that I really fell in love with photography again. I always loved photography and had been shooting occasionally, but now I’m obsessed with it and shoot every day. I set a goal a year ago: to at least take one photo a day that I’m satisfied with.”

    The first moments of documentation started taking hold of his creative being as a teenager. He was driven by a desire to document the graffiti and skateboarding culture that influence him. Senay reveals his current image creation tools to me as a Fuji X 2 pro, a 23mm (35mm) f/1.4 lens that he prefers for low lighting conditions and portraiture work.

    “I see my own photography as visual poetry and my work often surrounds or reflects my own emotions. It allows me to communicate what I don’t say in words. I’m quite interested in the mundane, ordinary everyday life situations and finding the beauty and surrealism in that. I look for details and tend to shoot a lot of urban life. Maybe because that’s how I live.” Senay’s imagery flows in a painterly fashion and conveys strong heart felt emotions. Emotions that are representative of his ability to identify with the people he portrays with immense dignity.

    Reflecting on his practice Senay explains that he regards it as an act of documenting the now for the future. He sees his photographic work as an attempt at understanding himself and the world around him. “It makes me stay curious and takes me places, forces me to interact with people, and allows me to challenge myself, my perceptions and my beliefs.”

    Senay highlights the qualities that he looks for in an image to me as beauty and simplicity. He goes on to say that he is speaking about how his subject relates to their surroundings in that moment, as well as the quality of light. “I love shooting documentary because of the element of surprise, and that’s always what I’m trying to recreate when creating an image. The aim has always been to make it feel as natural as possible, with a human touch and sensibility.”

    Senay’s photographic work can be regarded as a personal documentation of the world he sees around him. His images are powerful due to the fact that they carry real emotion and a human touch and sensibility. His creation of literal eye candy, makes it difficult to look away from them or forget them. The rich tonal values combined with immense contrast are indicative of his subjective view oozing with emotion. Senay’s work is a feeling.

    He will be having an exhibition of his work in the beginning of April in Stockholm.

  • In Light of What We Write // A multisensory literary experience

    In Light of What We Write // A multisensory literary experience

    Hosted at YoungBloodAfrica‘s Beatiful Life Building, one of Cape Town’s cultural and artist hubs, the literary event In Light of What We Write pushed the parameters of how engagement with literature can be framed and presented. With a clear understanding of who they were creating this event for – “urban 18-35 year old audience and arts professionals” – the event organisers were able to execute the idea by making it accessible both in terms of form and content.

    Poet, writer and arts project manager Linda Kaoma along with poet and co-founder of literary collective Neu! Reekie! Michael Pedersen, in partnership with British Council Connect ZA, co-curated the event. It was a showcase for “unique, experimental and experiential content” with the aim of illustrating the “accessibility of literature.”

    I interviewed Linda to find out more about the event and their aim for accessibility.

    You curated this project with Michael Pederson. Could you please share more about the two of you?

    Michael and I have a long history of being associated with projects that are disrupting the literary scene in one way or the other. He is the co-founder of Neu! Reekie!; a collective that dismantles the structures and snobberies dividing high and low art, amongst an endless list of endeavors. I’ve travelled the continent recording and archiving poets, as well as managing and curating events such as the Badilisha Poetry Pop Up Shop. So, when it came to working on this event we had a lot of synergy, and any differences in opinion were easily solved. Michael only arriving a few days before the event was less challenging than I anticipated, we had a series of Skype calls, wrote endless emails to each other and relied heavily on Facebook Messenger to have quick check-ins.

    You chose writers and poets who are quite well-known in the SA and UK literary space. How did you decide who will be a part of this project?

    The objective was to present the event through and incorporating multidisciplinary art form and multi-media. The first thing we did was sort out artists who were multi-disciplined, such as Lidudumalingani,  who is both a writer and photographer. We also wanted to include people whose writing was explorative and cross-genre, like SindiswaBusuku-Mathese. Her book “Loud and Yellow Laughter” includes poetry, prose, diary entries, photographs, and I found this combination made her work accessible and easy to decipher and digest. We included Hollie McNish because not only is she a brilliant poet, she has a ton of video content that we could use as part of the event. Each artist we chose fit the scope and rhythm of ‘In Light of What We Write’.

    The event was described as a “showcase unique, experimental and experiential content to illustrate the accessibility of literature”. Could you please unpack this for our readers?

    We wanted to present literary work in ways that are somewhat rare in the literary scene, and we wanted a sensory-engaging and emotionally-challenging experience for the 18-35-year-old audience. We included a video featuring a poetic interview between Koleka Putuma and I; Koleka answered my question with only excerpts from her poems and from other people’s work. Kayus Bankole used his body in a dance piece in moving poetic ways. Genna Gardini’s poem “Nipple Hair” made us laugh hysterically, whereas my poem “#blackgirldepressed” was melancholic for some. We experimented with lights during some performance, we had musicians, we included Braille for some of the exhibited work, and we asked our audiences to participate at the #whatyouwrite station. We really pushed ourselves as far out the literary box as time and budget allowed us to for‘In Light of What We Write’.

    The event was made up of an exhibition and performances. What was included in the exhibition?

    The exhibition consisted of a variety of work. Lidudumalingani showcased his photography alongside excerpts from one of his short stories. I worked with a graphic designer and visual artist who visually interpreted my poems. Sindiswa Busuku-Mathese exhibited some work from her collection that was accompanied by Braille. John Bryden from Eyes of Other exhibited some of his photography. The exhibition also featured a variety of video instillations.

    The other writers and performers who were part of the event included Allison-Claire Hoskins and Julie Nxadi from South Africa, and Hollie McNish from the UK.

  • Gay and Lesbian Memory in Action // generative archiving and LGBTIQ activism

    Gay and Lesbian Memory in Action (GALA), situated at Wits University, is a centre for lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, intersex and questioning/queer (LGBTIQ) culture and education in southern Africa. “Our mission is to act as a catalyst for the production, preservation and dissemination of knowledge on the history, culture and contemporary experiences of LGBTIQ people,” states Keval Harie, GALA’s director. The reason for the inception of GALA in1997 stems from their original name, ‘Gay and Lesbian Archives’. The purpose of GALA was to address the erasure of the stories and experiences of LGBTIQ people from official archives and other spaces. Since then the scope of their work has expanded to include a multitude of activities that focus on dialogue around sexuality and gender identity with the purpose of educating the public, building a community among LGBTIQ people, and to inspire action.

    Image from ‘Out the Box: A Glimpse into 20 Years of Queer Archiving’

    “In 2007 we changed our name to Gay and Lesbian Memory in Action (while retaining the acronym GALA) to better reflect this development. However, the archival programme remains the heart of GALA.”

    As a working archive that reclaims a place in the regional history and culture for LGBTIQ people, GALA does not collate information and host events in an attempt to state that LGBTIQ people are homogenous. Instead their direction is towards heterogeneous experiences but within shared structural, institutionalised marginalisation which is filtered into everyday discrimination.

    “Today, we are the custodian of a large number of individual and organisational archival collections that document the history, culture and contemporary experiences of LGBTIQ people in Africa. Our archives and accompanying resources are freely available via our website and to visitors to our office.”

    Youth forum member Wenzile photographed by Genevieve Louw

    “Homosexuality is un-African”. This is one of the many statements that GALA is hoping to wipe away. “We aim to re-insert queer voices into Africa’s history.  During our two decades of working we have played a unique role – affirming LGBTIQ communities, shaping public opinion and enhancing perceptions of queer African identities, in South Africa and across the southern African region,” Keval explains. The information they store and preserve have been used to create other ways of sharing knowledge, including plays, and theses. This points to the fact that their archive is generative.

    Enforcing self- and collective empowerment, over the past 10 years GALA has created youth programmes, including a weekly Youth Forum and monthly Queer Realness publications. These offer physical and political safe zones of representation and forms of support for young queer-identifying people.

    GALA 20 poster designed by Cameron Anzio Jacobs

    In addition to this GALA curates an exhibition every two years. By translating their messages into a visual language, they are able to engage with another audience and present another avenue for dialogue through a different medium. “Our latest exhibition (2017), held at the Johannesburg Holocaust & Genocide Centre, was a retrospective exhibition focused on the archive collections, and formed part of our 20th anniversary celebrations.  It was called ‘Out the Box: A Glimpse into 20 Years of Queer Archiving‘.”

    At the moment GALA is working on an education programme that will be facilitated by various university spaces. GALA will also curate exhibitions titled “Out the Box: 20 years of Queer Archiving” and “Kewpie” this year along with launching their GALA 20 book that commemorates 20 years of GALA’s work since 1997. Keep an eye on their Facebook page for more details.

    Photography by Keval Harie
    Photography by Keval Harie

  • TELFAR x FAKA – exploring gender fluidity through fashion and performance

    The exploration of gender fluidity or genderless garments has come to the fore over the last few years in fashion. Launched in 2005 by designer Telfar Clemens, TELFAR has positioned itself as a foundational brand for black, avant-garde design with gender fluidity as its backbone.

    During  Milan’s Men’s Fashion Week in January, Kaleidoscope presented TELFAR’s project, Nude – a live installation of TELFAR’s work in collaboration with other artists. This project stretched fashion linguistics by sharing with audiences a fashion presentation without any garments.

    Photography by Donald Gjoka

    The exhibition centres around a large nude image of designer Telfar Clemens by Rob Kulisek. Surrounding this were nude mannequins with gender signifiers removed. These were an updated version of the mannequins TELFAR presented at the 2016 Berlin Biennale, that were designed by American artist Frank Benso and manufactured by German mannequin factory Penther Formes. In addition to this, there was a film about Telfar’s apartment building in Queens, NY made by filmmaker Finn MacTaggart accompanied by musical composition by Aaron David Ross.

    FAKA were invited by Telfar to bring a performative element to the show. Having been TELFAR fans for a number of years, they were pleasantly surprised to find out that Telfar has been keeping an eye on them too. After a few email exchanges, the collaboration was solidified. “We performed both our EP’s ‘Bottoms Revenge‘ and ‘Amaqhawe‘. Our performance tied into Nude through our known exploration of gender fluidity which Telfar’s work generally explores,” Desire explained. Their performance also gave audiences a sneak peek of TELFAR’s new looks. Working together made complete sense considering FAKA’s interrogation of gender identity, and their aim to celebrate, reimagine and liberate queer bodies. FAKA continue to push their positive agenda across the globe with collaborations such as this.

    Photography by Pietro Savorelli

  • The Wanderer – Stability through Movement

    In search of a meaningful way to stay intellectually charged and creatively engaged,  Jason Storey said goodbye to his corporate law position in New York and followed his dream of becoming a full-time designer in South Africa. He now explores fashion creatively in its various conceptual forms with the label he started with his sister – Unknown Union.

    When the label was launched in 2010, it took root in a retail store on Kloof Street in Cape Town, and it housed a collection of international brands alongside their own small capsule collection. 2014 saw the siblings open a design studio in Salt River. The same year also saw the inception of a larger collection that reflected upon the art, history and culture they encountered on the African continent. And in 2015 their brother Oscar left his job in the US to join the team. In their newest location on Bloem Street in Cape Town’s CBD, Unknown Union blends art, fashion, literature and music as a way to stay a “community of people that dig the arts.”

    Their latest offering is a collaboration with photographer Cathrin Schulz titled The Wanderer – Stability through Movement. This body of work is a crisp exhibition of Unknown Union’s garments and Cathrin’s extraordinary command of lighting. An additional layer to this visual treat comes in the form of a short fashion film shot by Anna Schulz. With a behind-the-scenes feel, the film opens with the model getting camera ready accompanied by the soothing tone of James Blake’s voice breaking free as the music starts, bringing one into the Wanderer’s journey. I had an interview with Jason to find out more about the project.

    Tell us a bit about The Wanderer – Stability through Movement and how it came into being?

    The Wanderer can be seen as a pilot for an upcoming series and a fruitful collaboration between Unknown Union and Cathrin Schulz. A team of creatives sat down and brought in their expertise as a form of creative exchange. The cultural diversity of the creators brought up a colourful mix of ideas, leading to the story of The Wanderer. The result is the art directed and photographed edition by Cathrin Schulz and a complementary film by Anna Schulz.

    What was the inspiration behind it?

    The source of the collaboration is to merge the creative languages into a synergy. Unknown Union weaves ancestral knowledge into fashion, while Cathrin Schulz infuses spirituality into her visual medium of photography. The red thread is to connect the respective visions and create an effect greater than the sum of their separate effects.

    The series found inspiration in conveying the concept of Human Design, a science of differentiation. The Wanderer is a primal aspect found on both of the artists’ work, to convey a deeper message – a message of interpreting experience, emotions and stories – into a stimulating form of expression.

    What is the message you wanted to convey with this film?

    The medium of film visualizes and highlights the project’s aspect of ‘Stability through Movement’. Its purpose was to portray the creative flow of the shoot, as well as giving access to the different angles of the scenes. The intended message is simple: the beauty of creative collaboration.

    What sparked the collaboration with Anna-Marie Schulz?

    The collaboration was sparked by Unknown Union’s openness to provide Anna Schulz with a creative platform of expression within ‘The Wanderer – Stability through Movement’. It is rooted in creative exchange.

    What can we expect to see from Unknown Union in the future?

    We are going to dig further into current themes as well as unveil some new themes at this year’s runway show on February 10, at SAMW (AW18). In March, we’ll open our newest location in Johannesburg – in Maboneng.

    With The Wanderer – Stability through Movement as the pilot,  Unknown Union’s partnership with Cathrin Schulz promises to bring about sheer viewing pleasure. To watch the film go to their Instagram.

    The Team:

    Clothing: Unknown Union

    Photographer: Cathrin Schulz

    Stylist: Kshitij Kankaria

    Hair & Make-Up: Richard Wilikson

    Model: Cristiano Palmerini

    Filmmaker: Anna Schulz

  • Exploring the politics of fashion at the AFROPUNK x Umuzi RINGA! exhibition

    Umuzi in partnership with AFROPUNK put together the exhibition RINGA!, Exhibition of Taal on the 5th of October. Reflecting on the weight that language holds, with regards to identity and being able to connect with other people, this exhibition focused on the concept of language in Southern Africa as a complex singularity, rather than languages as separate entities.

    A group of young Umuzi artists teamed up with Sandile Radebe and ߔߎ߯ߟߍ߫ ߞߊ-ߖߊ߬ߣߏ߬ߟߌ߲߯ߗߌ to use Isibheqe, an indigenous writing system for Southern African languages, as a medium to convey an everyday, pan-lingual experience. These works were premised on the idea of language as a flowing system that has the ability to carve out pathways and connect back to itself. The exhibition aimed to provide viewers with an experience within which they can engage with language in a non-hierarchical manner. The exhibition was curated by Chantelle Lue, Afari Kofi, Clayton Nkateko, ߔߎ߯ߟߍ߫ ߞߊ-ߖߊ߬ߣߏ߬ߟߌ߲߯ߗߌ, Sandile Radebe, and Odendaal Esterhuyse.

    Fashion could also be interpreted as a kind of language, and in the same way that language carries political weight, so does fashion. I interviewed five people who attended the exhibition to chat to them about the politics of fashion.

    Themba Nkuna

    Wearing wide-rimmed white glasses and his mother’s shirt under his coat, Themba Nkuna caught my eye. In conversation about what he is wearing he mentioned, “I’m gay so I like to blend masculinity and femininity.” He also emphasized how his star sign, Cancer, influences how he has gotten to know parts of himself. “I rise as a Cancer so my emotions just change. Every day I wake up I am a different person. My emotions guide me. And my clothes are a representation of that.”

    Photograph of Tiniko Baloyi

    Tiniko Baloyi

    Floating in a sea of people, Tiniko’s white beret bobbed around as she animated the conversation she was lost in. Pulling her aside we spoke about what is means to be a woman of colour in the city, and how this plays into her fashion choices. “I am black and a women. I think that certain things are presented by me from a certain perspective. But it is not necessarily something I think about and want to bring out,” she states about how she chooses to dress herself. “I like different ethnicities. I am drawn to different ethnic groups. Where they come from does not really matter. I also like street cultures. That’s a kind of ethnicity that is more urban. This also influences my personal style.”

    Photograph of Tiniko Baloyi
    Photograph of Alora Reine

    Alora Reine

    With her locs swinging from side to side as we walked in the dimly lit street beside the exhibition, Alora shared with me how she combines thrifting with her chic grunge aesthetic. “I make and paint my own clothes as well,” she adds. “Self expression is very important to me,” she continues. Emphasizing how she is pro-Black in all senses of the word, Alora explains how African apparel completes her chic grunge look as well as bring to the fore her pro-Black sentiments. “My pro-Blackness does not influence how I think about other Eurocentric cultures or trends,” she argues. However, she does present a humanist alignment when she mentions, “First of all I am a human being before I am a black human being. Before I am a pro-Black woman.”

    Photograph of Alora Reine
    Photograph of Allyssa

    Allyssa

    Fine Arts student Allyssa amalgamates the feminine and masculine in how she thinks about fashion. Mentioning that studying Fine Art has helped her to find her personal style, she states that, “I am a young woman…I don’t care about looking very feminine all the time because I do not think that is important. I don’t need to look like a ‘lady’ everyday. I usually wear really baggy things. I wear my dad’s clothes. I buy men’s clothes. I buy women’s clothes. I buy whatever I like. I don’t care about what anyone else things about what I like.”

    Photograph of Allyssa
    Photograph of Chantelle Lue

    Chantelle Lue

    Even while wearing all black, Chantelle brought light with her presence while in conversation with me. “Although my entire wardrobe is black and I think that is just a hang-up of my life in architecture, [my personal style] is a case of comfort and speedy changing.” She mentioned that she finds strength in black. “I have recently shaved my head which I guess was indicative of a new start and it means that I have got nothing to hide behind anymore. I feel a bit exposed at the moment but I find strength in that. I recently dyed it blonde…I think the fact that I don’t wear dresses or I guess my style tends to be quite androgynous, there may be something in that. But for practical reasons I find that I am more agile dressed compactly in black.”

  • FNB JHB Art Fair // the Culture of Capitalism and Complexities of Autonomy

    Clinks of champagne glasses and soft murmurs reverberated around the lofty sky-matrix of steel beams and prefabricated walls. The tenth annual edition of the FNB Joburg Art Fair, located in the aspirational opulence of the ever expanding Sandton central business district, boasted over 60 exhibitors from 12 countries across Africa, Europe and the US. The three-day event held an extensive array of public programming.

    On entering the space, a large panel displayed the 25 partners and sponsors of the Art Fair. Patronage has always influenced the economics of art. Historically art was supported by the likes of kings, popes, the wealthy class and other institutions. In the contemporary moment, it appears that commercial brands have adopted a similar strategy.

    In the centre of the labyrinth exhibition of the Art Fair was the Cartier Lounge, the FNB private wealth lounge and Esther Mahlangu’s display presented by BMW. These particular brands positioned their relevance at the Art Fair under the auspice of collaboration. Collaboration can take a multitude of forms within artistic practice. However, more important is to consider the level of reciprocity this kind of trade really entails – as with all forms of patronage. One hopes that artists are always one of the beneficiaries of the cultural capital they produce.

    As typically the nature of Art Fairs, there was too much to see. However, some personal highlights included the clambering figures embodying the fierce flame of Lady Skollie’s exhibition Fire with Fire. “This is my opportunity for collective catharsis, ‘Fire with Fire’. A divine interpretation of grief, so bright, so gory, that we cannot and will not look away. Let us be cleansed with fire. Let us not light candles in remembrance. I’m done with being remembered. Instead, I see a burning phallus, melting, bubbling, its demise signalling our own rebirth.”

     

    Another of the affecting exhibits was FORTIA by storyteller and digital artist Keyezua. The series of red-robed woman clad in beautifully articulated masks – constructed from recycled matter to articulate identity beyond anonymity.  The series utilises, “a female body to portrait the stories told by Keyezua, a daughter of a disabled man through the hands of a group of disabled men that are alienated in their own society. The project is based on personal experiences that explore sorrow.”

    Both of these artists channel a personal narrative and interesting mode of storytelling to visually articulate their process of catharsis and agency.