Tag: installation art

  • Darlyne Komukama // art and human connection

    In a conversation with Ugandan photographer Darlyne Komukama, she explained her belief that the human condition is about being connected. This is a thread that she carries through in how she produces her work, from working with her friends and other artists, to ensuring that work is accessible on the internet and in other public domains. Working with other people also allows her to see the possibilities available when trying to stretch her own practice.

    Expressing to me that she enjoys sci-fi inspired images and strange visuals, Komukama was excited about being part of the ColabNowNow programme put together by British Council Connect ZA at this year’s Fak’ugesi African Digital Innovation Festival.

    Komukama finds it quite difficult to put into words how to describe her practice. She explains that she often assumes that everyone else is an intersectional feminist, but has found that it is important for her to directly state that she identifies as one. This comes across in the photographs she produces. Photographing Ugandan women as powerful, timeless, statuesque goddesses is how she translates her intersectional feminist grounding into visual messages. “And people always ask me, ‘Did you shoot this in Uganda? Are these Ugandans?’ And I’m like ‘Yes!’ I shot this in my neighbourhood. I shot them with my friends. And my friend is the one who made the clothes. And the other did the makeup,” Komukama says with a giggle. Expressing that being a black woman living in this world comes with such heaviness, her work is a direct response to the trauma, stereotypes and forms of oppression that women of colour have to deal with. Women of colour are still diverse, full beings, and this is what she captures with her photography.

    When asked about the photography scene in Uganda, Komukama explained that there is a vibrant scene. Some of it is amateur, and some of it is professional. “I have been on the internet in Uganda for a really long time and there has always been this conversation about how we do not see ourselves, and how important it is for us to fill the space with ourselves, so we can find ourselves. I also like how there are a lot of photographers who engage with the bodies of black women. Maybe that just comes from the work that I looks for. There is a small art scene but a lot of people know each other and the scene is growing,  and it is beautiful to be there in this time.”

    Komukama has a number of accounts on various platforms scattered across the internet with images she has been taken, but  she also finds it important to share photographs with Ugandan women so she tries to get her work into the public domain. This is evident in an installation about black women’s hair she did with two other Ugandan women titled The Salooni. They built a local Ugandan hair salon, and made the inside their vision of a future salon. “A place that is compassionate and has no judgment, and is joyful, and gives out dope hairstyles,” Komukama explains. The Salooni was erected at a number of street art festivals including Chale Wote in Accra. “We got so many women who lived in the area who came to the salon and just owned it. They started doing people’s hair, got their hair done, brought their kids. It was so exciting”

    A second installation she produced with another friend involved building a box in Kampala which contained images pasted on the walls with a video camera in the middle. They left questions inside the box which people passing by could answer on camera. The result was a video which comprised of all the stories people had shared and gave a reflection of everyday life in Kampala.

    Komukama’s work does not always result in an output that people can see but there is always an element of human connection and connection to the earth.

  • Thrift stores and political influence

    I was always one for the latest Zara or Topshop range, buying selected items from Pringle that I thought were special. That was until I became a working-class millennial and had to start paying my own way in life. As a student, I never understood how expensive life is, your rent, car expenses, food, clothes, toiletries, if you practice art – art supplies and equipment and then money to pay for a R65 cocktail at a trendy bar? Having styled my own shoots, sourced for the shoots of others and having an inclination to save wherever I can has got me to thrifting – and I thrift more than most people probably do. Here I take a look at thrifting as an art and forms of awareness created by thrifting.

    Artist Miranda July is changing the way that the charity shop and the act of thrifting is seen. She has opened her own charity shop inside Selfridges in London, and it is erected amongst brands such as Vetements. This act, which I regard to be a performance piece, is aimed at making the consumer think about what we pay for goods from large chain stores and to compare it with that of items that are pre-owned.

    Life Library of Photography: The Great Themes by the editors of Time-Life Books (1970) – a gift from Wagtails Animal Welfare Society in Port Elizabeth

    July’s act to open the pop-up charity shop shares traits with the performance movement called ‘Happenings’ that arose in the 1960’s – a form of performance art that took place in unconventional spaces. Happenings was heavily influenced by Dadaism and involved active participation from its audience and was known for its improvisational nature. While many aspects of the performance are unplanned, the essence of the occasion was aimed at stimulating critical thought within its viewer and to challenge the notion of art as a static object.

    Miranda’s art piece ties in with the Happenings movement as it invites the viewer to participate by looking at garments, trying them on and possibly purchasing them. It shares the aspect of improvisation and has an unplanned nature as the artist cannot pinpoint the exact outcome of each viewer/participant’s encounter with her artwork. Needless to say, the concept of the performance is unconventional and so is the space in which it takes place.

    Man Ray by Roland Penrose (1975) – from the Wits Hospice Shop

    Other factors of interest are the run time of the performance, the nature of it and the artist’s participation. As the performance piece is essentially an interactive object that can be taken away from, the performance continues to exist regardless of when people remove smaller objects from the location of the performance (buying items from the shop). As a store, people have the option to browse and buy during the shop’s opening hours creating a continuous performance. The artist doesn’t need to actively participate in order for people to buy items, (there are store attendants in Selfridges appointed to assist) the performance piece/installation artwork requires minimal input from the artist after its erection. Despite the fact that the artwork can be constituted as an object, the viewer’s participation within the space and ability to move in and out of it breaks it away from being a static art object.

    July’s artwork is based in London and therefore audience participation from me for example, is not possible. I do however like to think that I can simulate the experience in South African charity shops. As a big devotee to thrifting and a self-proclaimed charity shop veteran, I will share some of my thoughts on the practice of thrifting as well as where to thrift.

    Kodak Instamatic 33 (1963 model) – from Junkie Charity Shop in Melville

    Thrifting is a practice that has appeal for so many different kinds of people – the university student, artists, actresses such as Chloë Sevigny and the philanthropist. I always enjoyed the idea of collectibles and vintage. I bought my first Polaroid camera from an antique shop next to Magie’s Pies in the Muldersdrift area – my parents love the pies there. From there I started going to various thrift stores in Johannesburg. The key is knowing where to go.

    80% of my wardrobe and 90% of my books, as well as 50% of my camera equipment, is made up of items I found in thrift stores, and were relatively inexpensive. All of the items I have are in very good condition, and this has enabled me to have unique items. When buying from larger stores there will always be others who own what you own but with thrifting, there is usually only one item of each within the store.

    Gloves from the Wits Hospice Shop

    My advice for buying clothes is to inspect items carefully. For buying cameras, it is wise to test the shutter before you purchase as many of these shops do not have much photography knowledge and won’t be able to guarantee that the camera is in working condition. All pre-loved items have a story and previous owner. This has always been an aspect that has attracted me to thrifting as well as donating to charitable organizations. In my friendship group we thrift gifts for one another because of the unique characteristics of the items. My favorite places to thrift include The Wits Hospice Shop (there is one in Parkhurst and in Orange Grove) and Ry-Ma-In in Linden.

    I regard thrifting as an art because while purchasing an item you are able to get a feel for what it is that you are attracted to,  as well as add value to items that other people no longer want. I see it as a continuous realization of what I pay for new items and Miranda’s artwork speaks of this knowing loudly. By thrifting, you give yourself the political power to choose to pay less and contribute to the greater good. In my own experience thrifting has enabled my art practice as I predominantly photograph with thrifted equipment and style with charity shop clothing. Thrifting has also defined my personal style as well as the style of artists like Chloë Sevigny. To me, thrifting is an art practice and a performance art as well as an art installation opening up critical thinking, self-awareness and community solidarity.

    Canon EOS 300 (1999) from Ry-Ma-In
  • The Conceptual Art Practice of Lucienne Bestall

    Lucienne Bestall is a conceptual artist and writer based in Cape Town. Growing up in Oranjezicht, her childhood home was big and old, overlooking the city. Her experiments with creative practices happened from a young age often putting together fashion shows, plays and exhibitions. Lucienne describes herself in the following words: “I consider myself a dilettante. I am a writer in some moods, occasionally an actress, an artist if I’m feeling optimistic, always a collaborator.” In my interview with the young creative we discuss her art practice and unfold some of her projects

    After matriculating Lucienne applied to Michaelis and thought about studying either drama, film or English literature. Not wanting to choose, Lucienne was dissatisfied with the academic system that asks from its scholars to select a single discipline amongst many others. The scholar’s choice, inevitably prescribing who, and what they will become.

    “I wanted to be everything, and nothing in particular. I think this is why drama has always appealed to me, it offers the actor many different lives and realities, punctuated by an intermission, and concluded with a curtain.”

    Reflecting on her childhood creativity Lucienne remarks, “I remember a particular artwork I once made for an art sale in the living room. I must have been eight or so. It was a piece of chewing gum stuck on an A4 sheet of paper. It was called Chewed or Stuck or something along those lines. It was my first conceptual work of art. And one of the few artworks I have ever sold.”

    In my interview with Lucienne she expresses that art offers a matrix to seeing the world and not necessarily a way of describing it. Lucienne’s afore mentioned thought can be linked to her still on-going project, ‘Required Reading’ – a reading list of 36 books assembled from the recommendations of artists, art consumers and cultural workers. “Is it an artwork? I’m not sure. Perhaps it’s an art exercise. Or perhaps it’s just a reading list.”

    “Everything I do is held together by a shared sensibility. My work is largely understated, be it my writing or my art. There are never high stakes or loud messages. I like to approach my subjects with a considered attention to detail, with curiosity, and with a nuanced understanding.” Lucienne tells me that her ladder print has become a feature in restaurants, friends’ houses and unexpected places – taking on the form of an obscure Cape Town meme. “I like that idea. Perhaps it’s my best work, but only because it is so pervasive.”

    ‘Detail from A Story of Art (Ladder)’ 2014 by Lucienne Bestall

    When asked to speak about her art practice Lucienne expresses that many of her writing and art projects revolve around storytelling, and that the act of storytelling is about silence and narrative or characters or plot in equal amounts. It is as much about what gets left out as what gets included she expresses. “Absence is an invitation to engage the viewer or the reader, to encourage their participation.”

    ‘Ten Objects’ is an art project that Lucienne produced during her Beirut Art Residency in Lebanon. The project consisted of a series of conversations with contemporary artists living and working in Lebanon. Lucienne exchanged an object with another given to her by the artist she met up with upon meeting them. Later the initial object was left behind and the new object taken forward, and passed on to another artist. This served as a memory of a discussion – each discussion would then be represented by an object.

    ‘FIG. 1’ from the series ‘Ten Objects’ 2015 by Lucienne Bestall

    Curious as to why in the completed work she had not included the conversations she had with the artists, she answered me by stating that in the beginning she was recording the conversations but while transcribing however, she realized that they held little interest for the viewer. “Was it not enough that the conversations had happened? Rather than include transcripts, I notated the conversations with objects instead.”

    “All my creative work engages the everyday, be it objects or people or places. In that sense it is never truly abstract, but perhaps sometimes obscure. Both writing and art allow one to reconsider the familiar, to look again, and to grant something previously overlooked attention. My writing exists in the real world (or one just like it), as does my art. It is never fantastical, although it may be whimsical.”

    Lucienne was a part of ‘Venue’ an exhibition hosted by Alma Martha in the McDonalds on Long Street, Cape Town in 2016. For her art piece, ‘Some Ideas’ she invited a number of artists to the 24-hour diner for an informal dinner. She then asked them to write down proposals for artworks, interventions and performances that were site specific to the diner. Lucienne shared some of the ideas with me: “Cry while eating a Happy Meal, Go drinking with the kitchen staff (buy all the drinks), A twenty-four hour residency at McDonald’s, Leave a copy of Das Kapital in the loo.” These proposals were published as a small booklet, co-authored by the participants of the project. ‘Some Ideas’ can be purchased at Clarkes Bookshop and The Book Lounge.

    ‘Some Ideas’ 2016 by Lucienne Bestall and co-authors

    Lucienne’s art practise may in many ways be seen as understated yet the considerable attention to detail is evident, her work containing minimalist appeal. Her conceptual practise is profound in that she has the ability to observe the artistic value that objects hold and her work makes use of the ‘ready made’ practice associated with Marcel Duchamp. Lucienne often leaves her work open ended and asks of it’s viewers to actively engage in her work. Not projecting clean-cut messages with her practice, her work asks from you to make your own meaning and may perhaps lie on the surface of obscurity.

    Asking Lucienne what she wanted to be remembered for she expresses the following: “I’d like to be remembered as a witty and erudite dinner guest. And I’d liked to be remembered for living many lives. But no doubt I’ll be remembered for my ladder prints.” She is currently pursuing a Creative Writing Masters at UCT.

    ‘Fountain Series’ 2014 by Lucienne Bestall

     

  • Zohra Opoku // Threaded history

    German/Ghanaian artist living and working in Accra, Zohra Opoku captivates viewers using multiple mediums including installation, photography, sculpture and video. Her thematic investigations revolve around Ghanaian traditions, spirituality and family lineage and how they relate to self-authorship and her hybrid identity. Material culture often forms the foundation of these investigations, with textiles woven together in how these thematic investigations manifest.

    Image by Zohra Opoku from the series ‘Unraveled Threads’ 2017

    The images that she prints on fabric speak to the intimacy and history that textiles can come to contain. In her series Queenmothers 2016, the centring of female figures is a reflection on matriarchal systems and women as creators of a sense of community among people.

    Her more recent work Unraveled Threads 2017, comprised of screenprints on cotton, canvas & linen, connects to her exploration of her family lineage. Opoku did not know much about her father or her Ghanaian heritage during her childhood. In Unraveled Threads, she uses the kente cloth as a way to enhance her family history. Kente cloth varies in design, colour and pattern, each carrying stories and meaning. While the cloth is worn by different kinds of people today, it is historically associated with royalty and sacredness. It is believed that the origins of this woven cloth is that two farmers came across a spider. Amazed by the way the spider creates its web, they tried to imitate thus creating the kente design.

    “Identity is always, for me, based in textile,” Opoku explains in an interview with OkayAfrica.

    Image by Zohra Opoku from the series ‘Unraveled Threads’ 2017

    The stories and proverbs associated with each kente design makes this form of woven cloth a carrier of ethnic history. Quite fittingly, Opoku was inspired by the kente cloth that she found in her late father’s wardrobe as the canvas on which to present her father as an Asante leader, as well as to print images of herself and her siblings. Here she not only pays homage to a father she barely knew, but also embraces the significance of kente as threaded history. This allows her to engage with her Ghanaian roots as well as her familial history. She explores her experiences growing up in the West, and what it means to confront blackness and Africa as an artist later in her life.

    Image by Zohra Opoku from the series ‘Unraveled Threads’ 2017
  • Hasan and Husain Essop – Refuge

    Being 21st century visual artists is a challenge enough on its own! But add trying to tag “ambassador for your faith” on to that and that’s exactly the mission of Hasan and Husain Essop. In a world filled with media that revolves around villainizing the Islamic faith and labeling its followers “extremists”, the Essop’s are continuously seeking to challenge the representation of their religion, and work predominately through the medium of photography to reconstruct this perception.

    Images, such as clothing washed up on beaches, the incinerated remains of a bombed car and suitcase-carrying refugee families fleeing, are propelled around the world by the (predominately western) media of the horrifying casualties of the Syrian civil war. Along with this, issues such as ISIS and the ongoing “war on terror,” became the starting point for the exhibition. Not only for the distressing content but also because of the Essop’s knowledge that the fleeting nature of current media meant that it is here today and gone tomorrow. This exhibition was therefore a way to really analyze what we have been shown by the media of the conflict, the refugee crisis, and the resulting portrayal of both victims and perpetrators.

    Black terror, 2016. Pigment inks on cotton rag paper

    The brothers are intensely aware of their own position in the world, as young Muslim men. In appearance they fit the stereotypes. A passing comment made by Husain was that when he travels internationally, he travels clean-shaven, a decision informed by previous experiences with police, border officials and prejudicial travelers. This awareness of the space they occupy makes the work deeply personal, and yet universal in the way that it calls both the viewer and the media to check. They are afraid, afraid that the situation will get worse, that society will get more and more divisive and that their children will grow up experiencing more discrimination than they have themselves. Their subject matter is simultaneously both personal and political, giving it a narrative that resonates both on an individual and community level.

    The Essop’s use of the language of photography is an attempt to connect their message with as many people as possible. Their photographs are particularly striking in the way that they highlight how images are constructed, and in turn, the effect this has on society. Painstakingly weaving together multiple images to create a single image, this level of control ironically mimics the subtlety with which the media is able to circulate images perpetuating a particular perception about Muslim people and other minority groups. The realization that these are carefully and intentionally fabricated images, forces us to realize for a moment that our own perceptions could potentially have been similarly fabricated. In using photography as their primary medium, not only do they have to deal with the ethics of representation that face all photographers practicing today, but the orthodox view that depictions of the human form are haram [forbidden], further complicates their position. However, they feel that they have managed to find ways of negotiating these complex terrains, predominately through their decision to photograph only themselves.

    Beached, 2016. Pigment inks on cotton rag paper

    Whilst there is a definite gravitas to the show and the themes it tackles, a number of images contain a wry humour, especially in the way that they re-work well-known western icons of pop culture such as the Hulk, Batman and Spiderman, inserting Islamic cultural items to highlight the caricaturing and stereotyping of Muslims, and the relationship American culture in particular, plays in shaping the world. This they feel is not only important in drawing the viewers in, but also in giving their work a bit of character, allowing a side of their own personalities to shine through.

    Speaking with Hasan and Husain, it was clear that this particular exhibition is an important and special moment for both of them. The twin brothers, who were the Standard Bank Young Artist Award winners in 2014, have been exhibiting with Goodman Gallery for ten years. Much has changed for both of them during this period. Beginning with their decision to work collaboratively in 2006, they have continued to push the boundaries of their photographic technique and expand on the themes embedded in their body of work in the years since then. They both now have families of their own, and have had to readjust to changes in their working relationship, particularly with Husain and his family relocating to Saudi Arabia a year ago. Refuge is the brothers’ third solo exhibition with Goodman Gallery, and there is an artistic maturity that is starting to show through their work, especially in their increasing confidence to expand into other mediums such as film and installation, which is presented alongside their photographs. The use of a tent presented as a precarious raft shows a sensitivity to the subtleties of working with found materials, suggesting both the dangers facing the refugees as they escape over the sea, and the minimal shelter that is often provided when they reach the land. Not only does Refuge show an increasing mastery of their mediums but also in the way they stretch, combat, and play with concepts.

    Mass Grave, 2017. Lightjet C-print on archival paper

    Finally, it must be mentioned that the brothers are both full-time Art educators, and while this gives them the financial freedom and stability to provide for their families, it means that they do have to sacrifice time and energy from their practice. They don’t begrudge their day-jobs however, rather they are appreciative of the relieved pressure to make art that sells. They now have the freedom to hone in on their concepts without facing pressure from an art market that is quick to dictate what work artists should make. Knowing this, there is a feeling that their role as educators may have even begun to influence their role as artists, especially how their art takes on an educational slant in itself, seeking to inform and reshape misconstrued perceptions regarding Muslims. Perhaps what they have identified is the possibility that ignorance is a major factor behind the polarising fear we see increasing in society. If they can inform that ignorance, perhaps the growing fear will also diminish.

    Check out Refuge at the Goodman Gallery in Johannesburg until the 19th of August.