What do you expect from a rapper named Yung Killa? Probably raps about gats, stacking racks, stunting on the haters, smoking on weed, and sipping on Dom? Guess what, you’d be right. How perceptive of you. That’s not to say everything about Yung Killa’s KILLA$ZN is what it says on the box though.
I mean, you are 100% gonna hear all the rap tropes you’ve heard before, but KILLA$ZN has an old school feel with new school weirdness, and Yung Killa brings a laid back yet menacing attitude to some uniquely wavy beats that keep things fresh. At this point, nobody is reinventing the wheel when it comes to rap, but it’s still fun to see how each new rapper approaches the genre and it’s tropes.
Yung Killa kinda reminds me of Angel Haze meets Dope Saint Jude – Angel for cadence, Dope Saint Jude for flow but a bit slower. The adolescent murderer has a lazy flow for the most part that suits the more experimental beats and gives both space to shine. She might not be able to go one on one with Tech9 but she knows how to make her shit sound dope all the same.
There are a few stand out tracks on the release. ‘Hol’ Up’, which is the 2nd track, is fully the kind of song you lean your seat back in your Toyota Yaris and wind the window down as you roll through the suburbs. I’m assuming most of you aren’t that thug that you’d roll your windows down in town, but ‘Hol’ Up’ is the kind of track that makes you feel like you could and nobody would fuck with you. ‘Stunnin’ sounds like it’s made using church bells and is all about looking stunning in leather. It’s the perfect anthem for getting dressed before the jol. That’s followed by ‘Studio’, which references the infamous “don’t touch me on my studio” moment and I like to think it’s the soundtrack to walking in the club to. ‘Wo’ is my favourite track, though I’m not sure who the dude rapping on the track is but I enjoy the juxtaposition between him and Yung Killa and I’ve the hook of “Pull up on ‘em like ‘do do do’” has been stuck in my head since the first time I heard it.
If you enjoy rap music about all the things rap music has come to be known for but you’re tired of hearing it done the same way, then give KILLA$ZN a listen for something that’s both familiar and different.
Before the current wave of soulful songstresses from Durban who blend R&B with hip-hop and jazz, like Red Robyn, Victoria Raw, and Rhea Black, I used to be enchanted on the weekends by Umaah Khumalo, or as she was affectionately known then, Apple. Umaah mostly used to kick it with Ex-Con (Existing Consciousness), a high energy free-flowing new age act that would blend hip-hop with jazz, rock, soul, R&B and whatever else tickled their fancy. Even though she was the smallest member, she never came across as such on stage.
Umaah has always felt bigger than her surroundings. Like she couldn’t be contained, although, for a while in Durban, she was a bit. I’ve had a few conversations with her over the years. About the struggles of being a young musician, of balancing work with being in a band. About whether or not that band would make it. It didn’t. But that doesn’t mean Umaah won’t. Her debut solo EP as Umaah is a massive step in a direction that could see some success for her.
Produced by Jozi’s experimental electronic music genius, Micr.Pluto, Umaah is given plenty of space to shine on the Sheila EP over sounds I’m not used to hearing her on. No acoustic guitar or big band behind her. Instead Umaah gets to pair her voice with some good-old fashioned boombap (with Micr.Pluto’s modern touches, of course), trip-hop, and even a few dubsteb wubs.
The opening track, ‘Baptist‘, is my favourite. The beat kinda reminds me of Nas’s ‘Represent’ and coupled with Umaah’s soulful vocals, it takes me back to the 90s, driving around in my mom’s Uno Fire whilst she’d play R&B compilations with the likes of Erykah Badu and Lauryn Hill on them. There’s a good chance Umaah grew up on Erykah, as she’s the artist I can most liken her to. She’s experimental with her vocals, although she keeps things relatable with an ever-present layer of vulnerability.
An activation of materiality. A display of careful calculation. Grids and lines are followed in a non-conforming rhythm. Architecture is used as a curatorial device. An installation masterpiece. A photograph as a test. A photograph as a material object. A photograph as a sculptural object. Images untouched by digital manipulation. Welcome to two decades of Wolfgang Tillmans embodied under the title Fragile. Fragility apparent in both subject and material artefact.
Patient, yet enthusiastic spectators gather to consume the address by JAG’s curator-in-chief, Khwezi Gule, at the press opening of Fragile. As Gule leaves, Tillmans begins to guide his audience, manoeuvring eager bodies through the expanse of his show. Stepping into the first space you are frozen in your tracks by one of his most well-known works, Lutz & Alex sitting in the trees (1992) – a large-scale photograph of two figures, naked torsos exposed, finding minimal cover with their vinyl jackets loosely styled on their frames. But the amazement, appreciation and emotion that his works instil are yet to be explored by us, his immediate audience.
Tillmans invites his audience to interact with Sendeschluss/End of Broadcast by asking us to step closer to the black and white pixel image. Just close enough to prevent your face from touching the surface. And it is then revealed to the naked eye that this image is constructed of colour. This opening to the show, comprised of over 200 works spanning from 1986 – 2018, invites a word of caution from the artist, warning against first impressions, and encouraging a second look.
‘Lutz, Alex, Suzanne & Christopher on beach’
With work that holds an eminent position in the world of contemporary art, the artist is known for his perpetual redefining of the photographic medium as an artefact of materiality and as an image constructed by light. Led by an unquenchable curiosity, Tillmans navigates the world and reproduces that which he observes with his eye by occasionally placing a camera in front of it. His abstract works and more sculptural pieces include Paper Drop, the Lighter series (one of Tillmans’ very view series of work) and Freischwimmer / Greifbar. Through his experimental approach, Tillmans has developed the photographic medium, both the technical and aesthetic potentialities of the practice further.
Intimacy, compassion and familiarity translate in image form creating a tangible emotion. An observational modus operandi characterised by a humanist approach to the complexities of the world. Tillmans’ oeuvre comprises of his club culture photographs from the 1990s, abstract works that find their footing in extreme formal reductionism, images narrowing in on the beauty of the everyday, and depictions that display a rigorous perception containing a grounded socio-political awareness.
‘Freischwimmer / Greifbar’
In discussion with the German photographer he elaborates on his interest in objects of the everyday and the narrative of his work by explaining that for him these objects are not necessarily banal objects. His train of thought continues to the value of such objects, “I’m very aware of the values potentially attributed to the things that I photograph, but want to leave the absolute values also quite open.” Explaining this statement through various examples of images in the exhibition, he ends off with the following trajectory, “I choose not to influence. I choose things to settle. It’s the narratives that are usually non-linear objects, and people and places in the pictures and installations. The narratives and associations are definitely more driven by challenging value systems.”
Reflecting on his work, Tillmans expresses that he does not see himself as a deconstructivist but rather leans towards what he refers to as a nostalgic modernist. “My way of installation at first glance is sort of not modernist but maybe actually it is because there is a certain purity and vigor and a trust in a linear development. Not just in atomization. It looks so super multi varied but actually there are, rhythms, there are recurring themes…”.
Contrary to tradition, Tillmans does not often work within the frame of series. After the act of taking his photograph, the need to recreate a similar image is worn. “Because I like to make work that is coming from an actual engagement with a subject matter in the here and now and not just from the idea that I should make another one like this.” Tillmans here refers to a feeling of intensity – an instinct to create. Over 30 years of photographing he now has “families of pictures”.
‘Deer Hirsch’
Connecting the works on display to fragility, Tillmans explains that Fragile fulfills the purpose of working as a title and is not a defining label in itself. There are however moments of fragility captured in an expression, in an emotion felt or in the medium of photography. Then there is the fragility of appropriating the world as can be seen in the work Truth Study Centre. Attracted to the economic nature of the photographic medium, Tillmans equally enjoys the ability it has to facilitate conversations around physically concrete and sculptural issues.
Tillmans sees the art as something that allows him to speak about the physical world and simultaneously penetrate something that is more psychological. “It’s so able to record emotions and relations and it can manipulate a lot and pretend a lot but used sensitively it is an incredibly psychological medium.”
What draws one to a Wolfgang Tillmans show is more than the images displayed, in part you are pulled by his curatorial method that becomes an artwork in itself. Looking back on his journey with curation, Tillmans explains that his current mode of display was not something which he had planned to be a recurring part of his practice. He states, “I didn’t plan to come up with a way of making art that would leave ultimately only myself to install the exhibitions and it ended up this way.” It was with his first exhibition in 1993 that he first employed this method of display resulting in curators asking him to bring forth his particular grammars and syntaxes in shows. “…it really is to try to represent the way how I look at the world. Which is not just ordered in sections and it’s not all in a line. It’s allowing different attitudes.”
‘Paper Drop’
An agreement to the fragility that defines us as individuals and that influences our relations to one another is viewed as strength. Since his adolescence, Tillmans has been acutely aware of this interplay which is marked throughout the expanse of his artistic practice. Fragile has been used by Tillmans before, as an early artist name as well as the title of a music project he was involved in. Teasing out new ways of making with frailty, failure and rifts, these make reference to the imperfection of life and open up diverse perspectives on the materiality of the above.
Subjectivity with the potential to transform. Providing an extensive overview of his complex work this exhibition is a showcase of the various shapes of artistic expression of Wolfgang Tillmans. The show includes photography from large scale installations taking up an entire room, to small post card images and even smaller polaroids of 90’s party culture, publications, sculptural objects, video content and the installation practice particular to the artist. Activating discourse, an exchange of reaction takes place when presented with new scenarios. Space is given for mystery, deep emotion and speculation.
A sculptural practice wrapped around economy. An absolute awareness of the materiality of, not only his medium, but life itself. The deeply psychological nature of his portraits ingrained. To see as never seen before. Attending this show is a perception warp itself and a realization of fragility, a realization of your own inevitable fallibility and life span. If you enjoy walking out of your comfort it is definitely where you should be.
Wolfgang Tillmans: Fragile will run to the 30 September 2018 at the Johannesburg Art Gallery. I promise there is no regretting it.
‘Headlight (f)’‘Anders pulling splinter from his foot’‘astro crusto’
Zer021 is an inclusive queer club in Cape Town, and will be the host of Ses’fikile – siwu mndeni on the 20th of July. Translating to ‘we’re here; we’re family’ in English, the name of the event speaks to the importance of queer people celebrating the presence of spaces such as Zer021 as well as the queer artists who continue to push their creative practices.
Siwu Mndeni is the name of the ongoing collaboration between filmmakers and art practitioners Jabu Nadia Newman and Luvuyo Equiano Nyawose. Ses’fikile is the first project in their collaboration. “The whole inspiration for this project was to acknowledge or pay homage to poc queer club spaces that inspire creatives, drive culture and act as a sanctity for individuals who are discovering themselves,” Jabu and Luvuyo explain.explains.
Zer021 will be transformed into a gallery space, disrupting ideas around where art can be viewed and who can have access to these spaces. Ses’fikile includes the premiere of the short film/music video produced and directed by Jabu and Luvuyo for FAKA’s latest single ‘Queenie’, produced by Angel-Ho. It will also include powerful photographs taken on set by Daniel Walton. To bring the event full circle, live performances by well-established and relatively new artists and djs will transform the dance floor into an exchange of energetic vibrations through gqom, hip hop, kwaito, house, and experimental sounds. “The lineup consists of artists, acts and DJs who unapologetically carve out their own path and continue to inspire and give back to the community. The lineup consists solely of poc queer artists and incredible performers who are touring Europe and playing in different countries all over the world, yet are hardly get booked in their own country,” Jabu and Luvuyo explain. The performance lineup includes FAKA, Angel-Ho, Queezy, and a DJ lineup with K$, Nodiggity, Parasite Hilton and Sensitive Black Dyke.
“Our event will not tolerate any racism, homophobia, transphobia, bullying, queerphobia, sexism, fatphobia, taking up space and in general no discrimination. It aims to be an inclusive space primarily for members of the LGBTQI+ and non binary individuals.”
Psychedelic pop is indelibly associated with images of the hippie 1960s. Bright colours, swirling guitars and groups like The Beatles and The Beach Boys going all out to sonically replicate hallucinatory experiences. While their cultural era passed, its experimental spirit continued to seep into the consciousness of rock and indie bands. In the bright flash of the rave era, bands like Primal Scream and My Bloody Valentine manufactured a potent update. During the 2000’s, Animal Collective kept the freak flag flying. And in the 2010’s, we are experiencing a full blown neo-psychedelic resurgence, centered around the stardom of Australian band Tame Impala and their leader Kevin Parker. This latest revival aims to find the trippy potentialities within the beats and rhythms of contemporary music, rather than just repeating the imagery of a bygone era.
The latest iteration of this approach are Cape Town’s own Youth Gallery. Their debut EP Tv Yellow offers four tracks of shimmering dream pop. The groups crafts a subdued, yet strongly emotive feeling. Their most accomplished song to date is ‘Off (My Mind)’, with its plaintive hook of “ don’t let me lose my mind” circling around an addictive guitar riff. The sweetly atmospheric track comes with a nocturnally themed video of the band drifting through hazy city streets.
Incredibly, for such a confident sounding release, the band only came together last year when Zachary Zonomessis and Aaron Page decided to hone their musical talents on this project. Although South African born and raised, they are focusing their efforts internationally, taking the bold step of decamping to London on the same day Tv Yellow dropped. From their new home base they are planning to expand their sound ever further, with a new EP and European tour all on the horizon.
Memories of the local corner store growing up, and saying to your friend, “meet me at the corner store”. Buying slap chips, fizzy drinks and gum. Playing the unbeatable claw machine in the hopes of procuring a plush toy to take home with you. To some, just fond nostalgia but to Duran Levinson, Hanna Goldfisch, Carla Vermaak and Wiebke Reich, this space holds the possibility for creative expression. The awakening of an editorial photographed inside and around corner stores.
To the team behind the shoot, their aims were simple, to create an editorial in their favourite corner stores and their surroundings. A shoot that would be an enunciation of colour and their creative expression.
Approaching styling in a non-conformist way, Carla opted for colourful styling instead of neutral tones that are often associated with winter styling and dress. Her choice of bright garments interacts with the backgrounds of the images in a near symbolic way, mimicking the brightness behind the model. Another element that adds to the fun vibrancy of the shoot is the marriage of styling with beautiful soft textured hats by Crystal Birch.
In order to elevate the look and feel of the editorial, Duran exposed his film to light after completion of the shoot. This editorial is defined by its spontaneity and experimental nature that visually manifests as a shoot of nostalgic beauty and a celebration of youth and fun fashion combinations.
The creatives behind this shoot were largely influenced by street style culture. Many factors contributed to this such as Duran’s ease and preference to street style photography. The spontaneity of this form of shooting is an aspect that Duran greatly values and seeks in his work.
‘Wiretribe’ is Joburg-based leftfield electronica label Subterranean Wavelength’s (SubWav) debut label compilation. Featuring exclusive unreleased contributions from the label’s roster, the compilation is an introduction to the artists and their unique sounds, and captures the colourful variety of electronica emerging from the Joburg scene at the moment.
Founded by Micr.Pluto, Edward Kgosidintsi and Tribal Rebul Ludi, Subterranean Wavelength initially wasn’t meant to be a label, but organically grew into one from the compilation series of the same name, the first volume of which dropped in 2014. Featuring Hlasko, Watermark High, Obligations & Hawkword, it was a showcase of Joburg’s beat scene in its infancy, part of the reason for starting the compilation. A desire to release music beyond compilations resulted in the formation of the label in 2016.
Whereas the ‘Subterranean Wavelength’ series of compilations was a showcase of the beat scene in general, ‘Wiretribe’ focuses on the SubWav roster. “Everyone on ‘Wiretribe’ are people who we are actively working with on the label. Who are signed to the label, either with our bookings or as artists,” explains Micr.Pluto. As such, ‘Wiretribe’ is a showcase of what the SubWav family has to offer. “We have a bit of everything because we’ve got rappers, vocalists, beat makers, producers. I’d say most the vocalists we work with are on the super experimental tip. Our beat makers are on that tip. I don’t think we have an artist that has a mundane output with their music, everyone is actively pushing boundaries in their sound, trying out new shit, experimenting all the time,” Micr.Pluto continues.
While SubWav’s artists cover a range of styles, the fact that they all hail from the same label is evidence of how well the compilation flows. From the bouncy opening track ‘Glitch Memories’ by Daev Martian x Tribal Rebel Ludi to the dubby ‘Listen’ by Eye – On Feather x Nandi Ndlovu, the beats of Micr.Pluto and Kajama’s soulful experimentations, there is an underlying laid-back vibe to the Subterranean Wavelength.
Outside of the releases the label also hosts its SubWav Live which focuses on the live aspect of the beat scene. “The concept is to uplift that in Joburg and place an emphasis on that specifically. We also make sure we have live sets and DJs around that to keep the party vibrant,” says Micr.Pluto.
Apart from ‘Wiretribe’, Subterranean Wavelength is looking to release a number of projects including a solo project from Kajama’s ‘Nongoma’ (a project from Eye-On Feather) as well as a new project from Micr.Pluto, alongside a newly signed vocalist.
While the growth of the label is an indication of the growth of leftfield electronica locally, Micr.Pluto believes there are positive and negative aspects to this growth. “I’ve actually seen crowds swell and get really huge for the beat scene type movement. But I also feel like it’s kind of evolved into something different in a sense. It ended up merging with everything and everyone is jumping on the bandwagon of the beat stuff. In a sense I feel like it hasn’t grown to have its own crowd, it’s own market. It’s still got a long way to go to where people can host parties or throw events that are purely based on leftfield electronica or experimental beats, there’s always gotta be something thrown in there to make it accessible, but [we’re] getting there.”
Traditional framing broken and carefully pieced together. The cutting off of feet in a frame, blowing them up and lending them their own image – making them carry their own worth. Soft hazy, dreamlike images are painted. Jarred Figgins strikes the balance between careful contemplation and haphazard play with his photographic work. With images that often hiss oddities, it must be understood that they are thoughtfully constructed in a simple matter-of-fact way.
The South African photographer has in recent times become increasingly involved in the art of the moving image. Spending his formative years in Johannesburg, he relocated to Cape Town at the age of 18. Theoretical knowledge in the field was built up during the years he spent studying. Reflecting on his craft and childhood, Jarred explains that his desire to create images that were non-conformist was aroused from a need to splinter conventionality.
Questioning the label of fashion photographer that can easily be latched on to him, Jarred tells me that what sets you apart in a world of fast content consumption is the ability to approach the same subject matter in a slightly different way and a determination to stay ahead of the pack.
Discussing his interest in film Jarred states, “I think that film really allows you to manoeuvre an idea in a specific direction that a still sometimes lacks. It’s like being able to grow an idea so much more which so quickly takes shape or exerts a feeling without much effort…” His short film pieces come across as an experimental, visual ode, keeping its refinement in its technicality and precision.
He pinpoints his stylistic edge as something that often times takes place in post-production. “I’m not necessarily doing anything different with photography or composition, it’s just something I perhaps find fun or alarming whilst editing.”
About his process and tendency to work on set, Jarred tells me that careful planning does not always play out the way it is anticipated on set. He emphasises that for him a fine balance needs to be struck between playing by the rule book and letting the shoot take its natural course.
A great deal of his work for a shoot happens in pre and post production. The pre-production work could be seen as the most taxing, perhaps, as Jarred frequently builds his own sets and regards his curated playlists for shoots to be an integral part of his creative process. His photographic work is seen by him as a vehicle that allows him to express what he wants to the world.
Jarred’s work both moving and still are trademarked by his stylistic choices that sets him apart. His play with lighting and colour that results in dreamlike painterly images elevates the concepts of his work. His unusual way of piecing together various images and fragments of images into wholly different layouts creates peculiarity and beauty – the beauty in peculiarity.
A series of summer workshops held at the faculty of Art Education at Helwan University in Egypt set in motion the coming together of art practitioners Dia Hamed and Mohamed Allam. Their collective effort was directed towards creating spaces and opportunities to show their work. This led to the founding of their non-profit independent organisation and gallery, Medrar for Contemporary Art aims to develop the art industry in Cairo by encouraging collaborations between artists locally and internationally. This is directed by the idea to build a form of collective intelligence that allows artists to have creative conversations and gain exposure to the art world. When asked about the importance of joint efforts in producing work, Dia explained that the arts scene in Cairo has been “…infused with individualistic approaches to creation, probably due to skill-based education systems. So we always try to organically encourage emerging artists to seek peers or mutual interests among local artists and others from abroad. Our educational programmes are always implying lateral methods of exchange.”
Still from video titled “Impromptu: HG Masters on SB 13” on Medrar TV
Expanding on their interest in documenting their own practice and its surroundings, Medrar started producing content for the web, aspiring to construct a full archive of artistic footage accessible online for researchers and educators. In February 2012 they began to broadcast their web-based channel Medrar TV. Reflecting on the role that documentation through video plays in audience engagement and preserving art, Dia explains that “video documentation enables [a] local audience to search back [to] what they might have missed [exhibitions and other events] and even have a closer insight on the artist himself, and reviews by others. In addition, video documentation gives access to a wide range of audiences that are distant from the events. We also perceive it as an act of conversation for the history of contemporary practices in the region that might get lost or badly archived by the practitioners themselves. Medrar TV also helps promote and highlight certain initiatives and movements locally and abroad by having all the content translated to…the English language.”
Image from video at Marwan Elgamal’s solo show “A Green House”
Located in the quiet living neighbourhood Garden City, the Medrar gallery is the headquarters for the organisational teams working on various projects. With networking and exhibiting new artists being at the core of Medrar’s growth objectives, the organisation curates workshops, festivals and events. Most notably the Open Lab Egypt project which aims to promote the exploratory fusion of digital and electronic technologies to creative artwork that is diverse in form. Additionally, Medrar hosts the Cairo Video Festival: Video Art & Experimental films. A ten day festival that brings video-artists, curators and the public together to enjoy the screening of video art productions, artist talks and discussions about new media production.
Medrar for Contemporary Art facilitates the creation of original and exciting new artwork through collaboration. It encourages experimental and interdisciplinary co-operation in order to push the contemporary art movement in Egypt forward. Making it more accessible to a worldwide audience. To learn more about these events follow Medrar for Contemporary Art on Facebook and watch Medrar TV here.
Still from video titled “Impromptu: HG Masters on SB 13” on Medrar TV
I’ll tell you one thing, Song’s From The Bath is a fucking trip. I’ll tell you some more things, I just felt like that was a good way to start. What else do you want to know? Is it a homage to Max Normal’s Songs From The Mall? No, no it is not. Did Thor Rixon actually write it from a bath? Nope, I asked him. He said “The bath is a metaphor.” “Like”, “as”, that sort of thing. Oh, you want to know how the album sounds? I just told you, it’s a fucking trip. Have you ever done psychedelics? Yes? Well there you go. No? Then listen to the album. These songs may not actually be from the bath but they’ll take you to inner and outer space my dudes and dudettes. An adventure of magical musical discovery awaits.
First though, a warning before you go adventuring: If you just fully don’t like experimental music, then maybe this isn’t the journey for you. Don’t listen to the album and then be like, “Why are there birds chirping? That’s so lame.” This is the type of album that has birds chirping follow hectic rave parts. But also, gentle, ethereal chords that linger and stick with you after being washed out by reverb and literal water as the next song kicks in. So yeah, it’s experimental, and emotional, and eclectic. It’s chaos intricately woven with order. There are layers to this shit. Deep, deep layers.
If those sound like qualities you like in an album, you still might not be emotionally ready for it. I don’t know where you are in your life. I don’t know how this is going to make you feel. That said, you should listen to it anyway because trying new and experimental things is good for your personal development. Personally, I feel weird. I feel overwhelmed. I feel like I’m staring at the space between stars, contemplating my existence whilst my body slowly floats down through my chair. I feel like that’s a cheesy line, and I’m not even sure what the logistics of ethereal form would be, but bare with me. I’m trying to tell you that Songs From The Bath makes me feel, and it’s going to make you feel too. What will you feel? Well, that’s up to you.
‘Songs From The Bath’ contains 7 tracks with featured artists such as; Alice Phoebe Lou, Hlasko, Itai Hakim, Olmo, among many more. The album marks Rixon’s 3rd full body of work after 2014’s ‘Tea Time Favorites’ and 2013’s ‘Shared Folder’. ‘Songs From The Bath’ has also been pressed to vinyl and is available in limited edition blue or standard edition black vinyl, available from Roastin’ Records.
Rixon will be hosting 2 live and improvised performances of the album which will be held in Cape Town at The Centre For The Book in Gardens on Wednesday the 1st of February and in Johannesburg at The Bioscope Theatre in Maboneng on Saturday the 4th of February. Each showcase will feature; Alice Phoebe Lou, Hlasko, Olmo, Pavlov and more. For more details regarding these events please visit;
The Bateleur eagle is a ubiquitous traveler above African skies. Its name is French for street performer, referring to how its wings bob and glide like a tight-rope walker as it stalks its prey. Like their animal namesake, Cape Town experimental collective enjoy the high places. Their newly released “first and final” full length self-titled album was both recorded in “mountainous hideouts’ and was initially made available via an installation placed on Table Mountain! Dubbed ‘The Nest’, it allowed intrepid fans to download the album for free by following directions to a USB port buried into a rock on one of the mountain’s lookouts. It included the unusual instructions of reminding potential listeners to not overstep the ledge.
Unfortunately, the project was mysteriously vandalized, but the full release is now available for less physically adventurous listeners. Titles like ‘Mendota Sky’, ‘Blossom/Unfold’ and ‘Seaverb’ hint at the pleasantly elegiac sensation created throughout. The group’s six members function work as a pocket orchestra, bridging post-rock, math sharpness and jazz together. The eight compositions cast their spell like watching a warm summer sunset hazily settling in over a mountain.
Promoted as their final album, the release and its promotion bring things full circle for the band. Their debut 2010 EP was called Mountain, establishing their naturally focused and experimental project. They subsequently dropped Cargo Cults, which included the addictive ‘I’m Further Away Than I Usually Am’. This was paralleled with a remix EP, with artists like Christian Tiger School reinterpreting their songs. The latest album is the product of three years of recording, and honing their stagecraft on tours around Southern Africa. It’s also accompanied by a short film for ‘Mendota Sky’, a work which suggests at darker themes in their work . But for the most part, Bateleur has built up a sonic collage to get happily lost in.
As much a cinematographer as a producer, Hlasko’s music spins imagery from sound. “I look at it like films: the setting, the situation, the subject, the object, [all] used in the creation of the song”. For me, the setting for Hlasko’s music is a grey beach, abandoned at dusk. In the distance is a lone figure, her clothes pulled towards the sky by the moaning wind. In intermittent, rhythmic gestures, the figure bows towards the ground, gathering shards of sea glass, driftwood and scattered debris left behind by holidaymakers. In her home, I imagine a ceiling of carefully-sculpted hanging charms — their sea offerings chiming in haunting, metallic symphony.
It’s a scene that encapsulates so much of Hlasko’s artistry and process. The producer and vocalist is himself engaged in forms of hording, experiment, and assemblage. He describes his music as a palimpsest of gathered stories, projections, dreams, and thoughts. As with the construction of hanging charms, creating unity from this haberdashery of sound requires a process of threading and weaving. The thread, in this case, is space and time. “It’s like weaving, ja. How you use time and space in the music. Sometimes it can be very minimal but sound very whole. Sometimes it can be very cluttered, but sound very spacey and minimal”. It’s an art of knowing how to place disparate things, how to stitch them, and how to work with the empty spaces. It’s the process of making chaos poetic. “Since I started producing music, I started understanding a lot of other things that I struggled with. It sort of has a mathematical inclination. I feel I have more logic now. Although I’m quite an irrational person, I think music put me in a state where I understand order …”
Hlasko’s musical assemblages can be likened to that ceiling of suspended sea treasures. His sound is a dreamlike chant, ringing with the rusty textures of motley percussion. His arresting vocals whisper through the production, like a singing wind, or a distant birdsong, or an incantation. Often the call is in Sesotho — the language of his mother’s tongue. There’s a reverberation in the music: a consistent echo that makes the listener feel a sense of solitariness and mysticism. As with an assemblage of hanging charms, the imagery is one of lingering and suspension. It’s no wonder Hlasko’s sound is so evocative of pictures, given his Newtown training as a printmaker.
Hlasko (Neo Mahlasela) grew up in Soweto. He began experimenting with music production in 2010, during his final year of school. He remembers this as a time of abundant creative energy. “I guess I was part of that wave”, he says. The music junkies in his neighbourhood were listening to new electronic sounds from across the globe, including Bjork and Aphex Twin, alongside local nineties Kwaito. “Nineties was a time when I was bombarded by a lot of stuff – entertainment, television. I was very conditioned by whatever was being put out. I still have a very heavy garage influence [in my music], and trip-hop [influence]”.
Hlasko released his first digital EP in 2011 — a Soundcloud collection titled Songs of an Ancient Alien Tribe. In 2013, he participated in the Red Bull Music Academy Bass Camp and, the following year, featured on the Design Indaba Music Circuit. Together with Reunion Island Producer, Labelle, he founded the duo, Kaang. In 2015, they released a self-titled EP under the French label, Eumolpe Records.
Just as Hlasko gathers and re-assembles sound, so too does he build his own instruments. Most recently, he has been building a series of African bows. “I’ve been experimenting with making harp-type ones that you strum.” Hlasko is set to continue this work at the Google Cultural Institute in Paris, where he has been awarded a residency to transform African bows into controllers. “So [like a midi controller] you’re launching other sounds but still you’re using the bow as an interface. There are some physiological things that are attached to playing it”. The project speaks to a broader intuition in Hlasko’s work, which has seen him stitching together old and new. While calling forth seemingly ancient chorus and drum, the artist also transports us to futuristic places of sonic surrealism.
His description of his process draws on a language of meditation and catharsis. “It’s very spontaneous, but the only thing that’s quite consistent is that I prefer to be by myself in most cases.” Creating requires Hlasko to find some sense of stillness. It’s difficult “if there’s a lot of chaos or if there’s a lot happening. I have psychic congestion at times because I feed off a lot of people. I’m inspired by…I just have an urge. It’s purgative”. In this process of purging horded experiences, Hlasko also participates in music-making as a mode of transportation. “I think it’s vivid imagination. I think I’m inspired by the fact that I have a very active imagination.”
In a beautiful meeting of producer and listener, Hlasko’s music draws audiences into a very similar psychic terrain as the one from which the sound itself was produced. Both maker and receiver are bewitched, exalted and immersed.
When I asked what setting he imagined listeners to engage with his music, he said: “I like to imagine it’s an intimate thing, in your room, [and] maybe on your computer like I am”.
A sonic sorcerer, he speaks of music as “a calling” and even a process of divination. Sometimes songs are cast as spells, with the aim, he tells me, of attracting particular things into his life. Other musical offerings are sold as spiritual remedy. His song, In The Sea There is Me, is a soundtrack for that grey, abandoned beach, and is captioned by the following script: “cures hypertension, anal retention [and] pressure headaches. May remedy negative symptoms of tireless dancing”. Like a sonic Sangoma, Hlasko throws his collection of spectral sounds, and then works with both noise and silence, to suture disharmony.
explains.
