Tag: Gyre

  • WYAA // Providing Platforms for the Emergence of Young Artists

    WYAA // Providing Platforms for the Emergence of Young Artists

    Cantilevered concrete extends into a crisply lit tower foregrounding the bright cerulean winter sky. Tire treads mark the intersection of an arterial road, the pulse connecting the suburbs of Johannesburg to the heart of the city. Adjacent, a narrow side street reverberates the sounds of lorries and delivery vans. The bustling sidewalk is grounded by rectangular forms – interjected by an iron grate ashtray. Indigenous foliage peppers a raised platform of slate stones. This is the corner occupied by The Point of Order.

    The Point of Order operates as a mixed-use project space managed under the exhibitions programme of the Division of Visual Arts at the Wits School of Arts. This year nine students were selected to participate in the Wits Young Artist Award – a prestigious event that aims to provide an exhibition platform for emerging artists. Notions of inherited legacy, gender, sexuality and mapping space were explored throughout the show.

    Allyssa Herman is interested in the way knowledge is produced around the kitchen table and domestic space. A kitsch ceramic canine inherited from her grandmother is central to the work A Shrine for my Bitch. “A shrine for my bitch, it’s just that. A shrine for my bitch. My bitch is an embodiment of me, an embodiment of the woman who have passed, who’s ideals live in me…This bitch has been sitting in my grandmother’s home watching me all my life, she deserves a shrine, she deserves to be praised. My bitch is both dead and alive. She is that bitch. We are that bitch. Bow down bitches!” The shrine, arranged with an abundance of fake flowers, family portraits, candles and doilies pay homage to Allyssa’s matriarchal lineage – the veil between life and death.

    Artworks by Lebogang Mabusela

    “I hate doilies. There is something very suspicious about the cleaning, masking, covering, and the needing to impress that comes with being a woman. The passing down of these doilies happens in those moments when mama’ tells me gore ngwanyana o kama moriri; ngwanyana ga a tlhabe mashata; ngwanyana o dula so, ga a tlaralle” says runner-up Lebogang Mabusela. Lebogang’s response to these crocheted signifiers of femininity and ‘black womanhood’ is to reimagine them through a series of monotype prints. “Doilies are used to conceal flawed and plain surfaces in a more decorative way. They are about dignity, integrity and keeping a seductive, elegant and glamorous home even when things are just falling apart slightly, because Abantu bazothini?” Her work tenderly addresses the transference of societal projections on paper.

    Cheriese Dilrajh also engages the domestic sphere in her work. “A space can feel foreign to you even if it is your home. It can make you question your existence.” Her installation of suspended sarees adorned with paper plants and a video projection of “alien plants of the Internet” challenges tradition and the notion of inherited culture. “People can be thought of as plants. There are indigenous and alien, each determined which is which by the space it is allowed to flourish and survive in. Plants are interesting to me as they sometimes appear to embody human characteristics. My grandmother would also often transfer plants from her house to our garden.” Her interests extend into decolonising the self  – “postcolonial is not only a theory, it is lived and embodied. It is everywhere, and identity becomes distorted and confusing, informing our growth.”

    Installation piece by Cheriese Dilrajh

    Dominique Watson‘s haunting bed installation is a response to a project created by the SADF during apartheid at the time of the Border Wars. Conscripts classified as homosexual or ‘deviant’ were sent to Ward 22 of the Military Hospital in Voortrekkerhoogte. In this ward they were subject to the ‘conversion’ procedures of electroshock therapy and chemical castration. Dominique discovered documentation of these atrocities in GALA‘s archive – including accounts from patients as well as their families. She describes this, “history as a haunting” whereby the medical gaze approached the queer body as one riddled with disease. The red bedsheet bound around the military-style cot has been stained with institutional ink – signifying the oppressive nature of the establishment.

    For his provocative work, Oratile Konopi collaborated with Hip-hop artist Gyre. Oratile’s piece is a visual response to the musician’s single entitled Eat My Ass. “We went about creating an artwork with its own narrative. The narrative of a dinner date in which you would get to know someone, going through two courses but the desert not being eaten rather alluding to the idea that something else is being ‘eaten’.” Oratile explores notions of masculinities central to the identity of black men in his artistic practice – often employing music as a device to create a point of accessibility. The installation offers an opportunity for the audience to engage with the works in a tangible form – adding to what would otherwise be limited to digital interface. Oratile and Gyre use this platform to, “speak on the issues related to gender and sexualities present in the music sonically and extending it visually. We chose the LP format because it speaks to a different moment in time. Complicating the idea that multiple sexualities are something only present in the contemporary moment and did not exist in the past.”

    Installation piece by Dominique Watson

    Framing- white- female- emerging artist- my eyes- camera- images- physical collage- print- in my mind- digital- photoshop- film strips- chance- abstract- representational- titles- When You Swipe Your ABSA Card- overlapping- labour- different people’s labours- my labour- making sense of my surroundings. Sarah-Jayde Hunkin locates herself within the city. Her processed-based work is centred around the transference of images and collaging experience. Frustrated with the lack of female representation in linocut printmaking, Sarah-Jayde is interested in the perception of ‘aggressive’ mark-making. Her print combines techniques of visualising negative space as well as delicate and fine marks.

    Kira De Cavalho‘s MAPPING SPACES articulates locations topographically. The combination of paint and chalk is used to mark a fabric surface. The suspended map spans. “between my childhood homes (Mulbarton, Rosettenville and Kensington). The graphic threaded floor plans overlay the map and symbolise personal dynamics within my living spaces. These dynamics and associated traumas are expressed through different coloured cotton thread and linear layout.”

    ‘MAPPING SPACES’ by Kira De Cavalho

    Nishay Phenkoo‘s Matrimonium study after The Bride Stripped Bare by Her Bachelors, Even engages with its implicit Duchampian reference and the union of personified forms. “The deep enveloping gaze of the easels consumed within each other offers insight to the complexities of the marriage, its off-white veil of dust elegantly poised atop the head of its recipient awaiting a hopeful life of bliss and happiness.” Hymn Die Irae by Polish composer Zbigniew Preisner reverberates through the space while, “The recipients deeply intoxicated by the other lost in a subliminal bondage under the warm pink light imbued with parallelisms to the hand of god.”

    This year’s winner, Kundai Moyo, explores issues of consent within the photographic practice. “I became curious about scale and the illusion of intimacy and that often lends itself to things that are small enough to fit in the palm of our hands, the psychological effects of this attachment and whether or not presenting something on such a small scale diminishes some of the problematic notions attached to it.” Her sculptural works entitled, Photo Albums: Vol. I & II are two tiny velvet-covered hand-bound books each containing a photographic series captured in Mozambique last year. Many of the images feature the human subject going about the doldrums of daily life. After producing the series, Kundai contemplated the moral dilemma of exploiting the image of strangers and the inequal power dynamic inherent in photography. She decided to, “construct a mechanism that would allow for viewers to peer into the lives of these strangers in a way that did not leave them exposed to the essentialist scrutiny that often comes with the unanimous viewing by a large audience.” Her photo albums attempt to create a tender moment of intimacy in the interactive piece.

    The exhibition runs until the 7th of August.

    ‘Photo Albums: Vol. I & II’ by Kundai Moyo
    Artwork by Oratile Konopi and Gyre
    Artwork by Sarah-Jayde Hunkin
  • Turn Up The Volume and Queer The Dancefloor

    Turn Up The Volume and Queer The Dancefloor

    A few years ago, I wrote about what I called the Somzification of the South African queer identity. The idea is premised on Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s idea of the danger of the single story, the notion that we risk erasing essential identifiers of people’s lives or people themselves if we relax into telling a one-dimensional side of their story. The idea that being gay in this country is to be like Somizi.

    This isn’t Somizi’s fault by any stretch of the imagination. As matter of fact, South African queer people have a lot to thank him for. Normalisation is a term that’s often frowned upon in queer circles, but for the purposes of this argument, it’s important to say that Somizi’s high profile, unashamed existence made it so that there was at least some semblance of a departure point in black homes across the nation. A black child can say “gay” and their mother, father, sister or brother would have at least one lens through which they could engage with the conversation.

    But there was also 3Sum, the original queer vocal group who became famous overnight for their flamboyant presentation and their art. And there was also the nation’s biggest soapie, Generations, which inspired articles like one from the City Press titled “Storm over TV gay kiss” in 2009 when its newly introduced gay couple, Jason and Senzo locked lips for the first time.

    What was necessary as an introductory phase by those forebears has now inspired a multiplicity of identities under the LGBTIQ+ umbrella. There are so many, I’ve resolved to calling them the Alphabet community or simply the queers. The beauty in this is that it’s meant that the current generation are tackling identity in ways unique to their individual stories — and through music.

    They call themselves, Mr Allofit, Gyre, DJ Phatstoki and Tiger Maremela — and this isn’t even an exhaustive list. If you will ignore the complexities around the term, we can get away with calling it a born free generation of queer artists finding their place in the national canon of musical artists. Their freedom wasn’t free of course. It was earned by the resistance of their forebears.

    This kind of freedom is what DJ Phatstoki sees whenever they play a set at Pussy Party. “You get on the dancefloor and people are really dancing like how they wanna do it. The energy feels different,” they say. The Pussy Party gig came about after Fela Gucci of FAKA put in a word for her with Colleen Balchin of Broaden a New Sound. Phatstoki had begun making a name for themselves by uploading mixes to SoundCloud. After months of contemplation and convincing from Phatstoki’s close friend, Colleen finally reached out to her.

    “I’ll forever be thankful to uGucci because I was doing that ‘no one really cares thing’, feeling really unimportant and just putting it online assuming that when I have six listens I can count, okay, it’s probably my brother, my sister,” they remember. “Sometimes as a young black queer person, you don’t have the strength to kick the door open that hard.” And the door opened all the way for them to the point where Phatstoki now helps organise Pussy Party along with Colleen, and she’s Sho Madjozi’s DJ.

    At any given Pussy Party event, you’re likely to find Tiger Maremela enjoying the extents of their freedom on the dancefloor. The Internet artist’s work diagnoses the net’s ability to create a go-to space for queer, and particularly trans bodies, to feel free. They recently brought this to life with the Soundscapes of a War Zone live performance at the Hive in Braamfontein. By combining music, memefication and portraiture, the vast space of the Hive felt like its own social media timeline; the movement of bodies as pieces of content all free to be the most actualised versions of themselves.

    “A lot of the lingo and phrases that we use often and things that have gained popularity are really inspired by queer culture or by stan culture, by black queer Internet culture. It’s definitely had an influence,” Tiger explains. Phatstoki knows the value of this culture that’s been created online. “A tweet of something you’ve been thinking [about] for years has got 17k retweets — it’s like I’m not alone.”

    For Tiger, “the problem is all these voices aren’t being amplified and that’s part of the work” that their Internet art answers to. “So that’s why lists like [this cover story] are important because they amplify people that potentially have the answers of how do we fix this.”

    Gyre sees the Internet as a valuable resource to keep themselves educated on those who came before them, which ultimately feeds into their work. “I like to do it in my imagery and the way I portray myself in performance. It’s informed by so many different people.” Some of those people include 3Sum and Somizi, but for this rapper, the definition of queer has long been an identifier for various bodies.

    “In my head I’m thinking which gay artists am I looking back at and I’m like well [they don’t] need to be gay,” Gyre explains. “There’s LGBTQI+. People that I look up to are Brenda Fassie and Lebo Mathosa and the world will never bring it up, but we all know that they were queer.”

    With Gyre’s Queernomics mixtape, the framing of the queer identity was pushed to its limits. A track like “Ikunzimalanga” defies common perceptions of masculinity by Gyre taking on the title of a queer Shaka Zulu. “Black Jesus” does a similar subversion of binaries while tracks like “Eat My Ass” and “Premium Bottom” are spliced in to add the gender fluid dimension needed to close the loop.

    It’s no wonder they’ve found so many collaborative opportunities with Mr Allofit. The androgynous rapper’s own mixtape, 5 to Mainstream,problematises the idea of gender altogether by aggressively driving the listener towards a utopian world where, as they say, “music has no gender.”

    Consider “Eat Da Beat”. These niggas look at me from the back / Think I’m a chick / Hit the front, homie it’s lit / Got a dick. Though it gets them “trending” (their term for catching attention from onlookers) while thrifting in downtown Joburg, they understand the time and place we’re in.

    “It’s a born free season. We’re people who are non-conformist, people who are born in not much of a struggle — we have different problems in this era,” Mr. Allofit says, “A lot more people are being free. A lot more people are doing their own kind of freedom.”

    The collective efforts of all four artists is shaping room for access and understanding that queer identities exist within a wide spectrum. Phatstoki can both play and sit at the decision-making table of Pussy Party and be Sho Madjozi’s DJ. Tiger Maremela can question the warzone that is their lived experience via Internet art and live performance. Gyre doesn’t have to fear claiming the Zulu nation’s proudest figure of masculinity. And Mr Allofit has the confidence to preach their androgyny manifesto no matter where they go.

    For these artists, the hope is to ultimately make work in a world where their sexuality isn’t the primary focal point but that the story creates the buy-in. “Can we not make it about our sexuality? Can we not start competing with everyone [of other non-queer sexual identities]? Can we not be introduced as a separate category?” Mr Allofit asks. Gyre isn’t too concerned though: “I believe existence is resistance so I don’t need to do much to disrupt the space. I exist and I disrupt the space.”

    There’s hope. At least we have Pussy Party, and Tiger’s Internet art and Gyre and Mr Allofit’s discography on Apple Music. And then there’s FAKA who just soundtracked Versace’s SS18 show, and Nakhane who got a shout out from Elton John and is selling out shows across Europe. The landscape is shifting and there are more options than when we just had Somizi and 3Sum. To me that sounds like a true born free South African music landscape.

    Credits:

    Photography and styling: Jamal Nxedlana

    Makeup: Kristina Nichol

    Hair by Nikiwe Dlova

    Photography and styling assistant: Lebogang Ramfate

    Fashion sourced from Marianne Fassler archives.

     

  • WE ARE ONE Music Festival // connecting people through music

    WE ARE ONE Music Festival // connecting people through music

    WE ARE ONE Music Festival is framed as an experience of “heritage, music and inevitably oneness”. Founders Tokoloho Booysen and Tshepang Mabizela explain that basing the festival on this idea came through reflecting on the fact that there are so many barriers in Johannesburg that divide people. Their intention was to create a platform that will allow people to engage with one another through music and other cultural experiences. “…the only way for us to [be] progressive and create the future we want is to band together, we need to develop a strong sense of community and we believe that comes by unity through diversity,” Tokoloho explains. He goes on to say that, “We [the festival] use music as a connecter because regardless of who you are, the music you like makes you feel a certain emotion and those emotions transcend genre.”

    WE ARE ONE also intends to provide a space where emerging artists can share the stage with well-known musicians. “We represent a bubbling underground, so this festival needs to showcase an unknown industry made of blood, sweat and tears,” Tshepang explains. By doing this they are hoping to contribute to the expansion of the South African music industry and introduce audiences to new faces and new sounds. With the aim of giving artists the recognition they deserve, the festival presents opportunities for future headliners and shifts in the music scene while still appreciating artists who have been in the game for a while. Artists included in the lineup are FAKA, DJ Doowap, Gyre, Langa Mavuso, Nonku Phiri and Rhea Blek, just to name a few.

    Outside of the music, there will also be food stalls, clothing stalls and a pop-up photographic exhibition to give attendees a well-rounded cultural experience. “We resonate with music but we know that music is not the only impactful art form, so fashion, visual artistry and food are art forms that can also help progressively push the artistic culture forward,” Tshepang states.

    WE ARE ONE will be taking place at 1 Fox on 31 March 2018. To find out more about who will be performing and how to buy tickets visit their Facebook page.

  • Gyre’s Queernomics is Unbridled Self-Expression

    It seems like 2017 has been the year many queer artists have found their voice, and audiences, through their art. Nakhane Toure’s performance in The Wound has drawn plenty of praise and criticism, but the film itself has been accepted as an entry to the Oscars all the same. Toya DeLazy is now a Powerpuff Girl, modern queer icons FAKA released their Amaqhawe EP to plenty of online fanfare. Former drag king Dope St Jude has been getting radio airplay and bookings off her 2016 release Reimagine. K-$ has become a sensation in Cape Town, with consistently hyped DJ performances and recently making the cover of The Lake.

    It’s pretty cool that I could actually go on for a while, but this piece is actually about a particular queer artist who you should take note of, Gyre. Gyre put out an album about a month ago called ‘Queernomics‘ that gives you a hell of a perspective on being a young, gay, black man in South Africa.

    From the outset Gyre goes in hard on white gays/white gaze, racism, religion, social conditioning, and the myriad of forces against a young, gay, black man in this country. He lays down the paths before him and the consequences of his choices. Gyre then lets out a triumphant self-affirming cry of “I am human! I am queer! I am sex! I am love! I am black! Respect that!” All before track 2 starts.

    The album quickly changes tempo to the wavey synth laced Eyes on You, then kicks into the trap influenced Slay n’ Sleep, only to be followed by the more more industrial sounding Inkunzimalanga. Queernomics does a fantastic job of offering a diverse array of beats, flows, bars and topics throughout the 13 tracks. While Gyre plays the role of braggadocious rapper well, he also openly and poetically displays his wounds for the audience. Queernomics is rife with fun wordplay, raw emotion and unbridled self-expression that’s rare in most modern rap releases.

    If enough people hear Queernomics, I think it’s only a matter of time before Gyre’s name is mentioned not only alongside other notable queer artists, but up against the best rappers in the country too. He’s not there yet, but Queernomics shows that Gyre’s bag of tricks is filling up quickly.