Tag: johannesburg

Thebe Magus’s A/W 2016 collection delicately photographed by Nikki Zakkas

Nikki Zakkas is a young up-and-coming photographer from Johannesburg. She studied fashion at Lisof before moving into photography, it isn’t surprising then that her interests lie in ‘fashion portraiture and street style”. Zakkas is one of many photographers focusing her lense on the cities vibrant streetstyle, what sets her apart though and really establishes her as someone-with-something-different to contribute is the softness she brings to a space mostly romanticised for its chaos and intensity.

I spoke to Nikki about her latest project (a collaboration with fashion designer Thebe Magugu) and being a finalist in Elle Magazines annual style reporter competition.

Jamal Nxedlana (JN): How did you come to work with Thebe Magugu on these images?

Nikki Zakkas (NZ): I have been friends with Thebe since our studies at Lisof and so working together at some point seemed inevitable. I am also a big fan of his designs, which I find to be exquisite, culturally progressive, high and yet accessible/wearable.

JN: What was it like being a finalist in the Elle Style Reporter competition ?

NZ: Being a part of the Elle Style Reporter competition was a wonderful experience from start to finish. My favourite part of it was getting to meet the fellow finalists, all of whom were exceptionally talented in telling visual stories. I also appreciated the opportunity to talk to the Elle staff members who I admire so much for the creative work that they do at the magazine.

JN: What mood or feeling were you trying to get across with these images?

NZ: I was inspired by simplicity. I wanted to incorporate a minimalist style in my approach to shooting the collection so as to keep the focus on the model and the garments as opposed to a chaotic background.

JN: When I look at these images I see a softer side of Johannesburg, was this your intention or was this an idea developed specifically for this particular shoot?

NZ: I am very drawn to romantic imagery and so I suppose that this tends to reflect in my style and aesthetic. Most of my images have a sentimental and nostalgic feeling.

JN: Besides you living and mostly working in Johannesburg – what is the relationship between the city and your work?

NZ: As someone who likes to take pictures, I am highly sensitive and reactive to my environment. Given that Johannesburg is the context that I live in, it would be impossible for the city to not inform my photographs to some extent. That and the aesthetics of Johannesburg are truly unique in terms of its urban landscape. I am also constantly inspired by the interesting cross section of people that coexist in this city.

JN: What about shooting fashion interests you in particular?

NZ: I studied fashion and my work experience thus far has been in that industry. I am passionate about fashion and view it as an aspect of art, a visual language and a discourse. I love shooting fashion as it is powerfully expressive; clothing can evoke so many qualities. I also love street style photography for how it can signal a person’s identity through their presentation and style.

JN: What are you plans moving forward, any exciting new projects?

NZ: My plan moving forward is to hopefully travel for a while and practice my eye by shooting as much as possible. I am also interested to start assisting more experienced photographers as I am still young in my photography and would love to refine my work and expand on my technical skill set.

Photography credits:

Photography: Nikki Zakkas

Styling and wardrobe: Thebe Magugu

Model: Melissa Orren at Boss Model Manangement

Make-up: Sancia Naidoo

12 May 2016
USB SOUNDSYSTEM – Journeys in Three Songs

Last October, BubblegumClub (in collaboration with WeHeartBeat) hosted the first in an ongoing series of cultural experiments. For the USB Soundsystem event, held in Melville, a cast of local tastemakers were invited to an open DJ booth. Guests were asked to each play three songs. Rather than mixing skills, the criteria was simply to bring interesting music to a public venue. From beloved hits to obscurities from the darkest crevices of the internet, they just needed to arrive with a USB drive. (Although a professional DJ was on to hand to guide them through any technicalities!)

The concept for the event was to ‘democratise the dancefloor’. As many of the participants interviewed below discuss, the format became a personal challenge. How can you represent yourself, tell your personal story in three pieces of recorded sound? For filmmaker Lebogang Rasethaba, the event offered to bridge the gap between personal taste and public space. Participants agree that getting to share tracks with such intimate significance was an empowering experience. The result was an eclectic mix, from Grime bangers to Frank Ocean’s epic Pyramids.

The ubiquitous USB drive was developed in the mid 90’s and since then has subtly changed our lives. They are small and easy to lose, but contain entire cultural universes in their hardened exteriors- galaxies and constellations of music, film and data. They are both personal and social, reflecting both their owners taste and that of the friends they share and swap with. The Soundsystem event shows that no matter how small the storage technology may get, music is always the most powerful force to bring people together.

11 May 2016
Bubblegum Club is hosting DENY / DENIAL / DENIED, the culmination of Roberta Rich’ studio residency at Assemblage

Artist Roberta Rich has been in residence at Assemblage Studios since February 2016. Her time at Assemblage now culminates with an exhibition of new works and an artist discussion between herself and artist Thenjiwe Niki Nkosi.

Roberta Rich was born in Geelong, Australia 1988. Her work examines notions of authenticity with regards to concepts of identity. Rich draws from her autobiographical position as a primary source of research, exploring how her South African and Australian identity simultaneously ‘pass’, ’fails’ and ‘speaks’ within varying contexts. Particularly focusing on constructions of ‘race’ identity, Rich attempts to subvert racial stereotypes with ambiguity, satire and humour in her video, installation, performance and text projects. Her engagement with language is part of a sustained practice seeking to deconstruct the problematic representation(s) and language of ‘race’ that continues to inform identity construction. The work developed during her residency at Assemblage respond to instances of cross-examination encountered, South Africa’s history, the (personal) relationship the artist has with this history, what it means to be ‘Coloured’ and attachment(s) to such language, fetishism of African identity and the complexities within diasporic African identities, through the form of tapestry, silkscreen prints, photography and text.

DENY / DENIAL / DENIED opens on Thursday 12th May at 6pm and will close with the artist discussion on Sunday 15th May, 2pm at Bubblegum Club.

10 May 2016
Horus Tha God – Taking Flight

The falcon headed Horus was one of the most powerful deities in Ancient Egypt- the Pharaoh’s claimed that they were Horus in human form. It take a lot of self-belief to adopt the name of such a potent mythological figure, but Horus Tha God seems primed to live up to this title. His latest track Bangarang (produced by Trip G) is the official single for the forthcoming The Alien Tape. Over a skeletal beat, the lyrics take overt influence from Future’s trap style. But it goes beyond mere emulation, by taking typical rap boasting about criminal prowess to a ludicrously entertaining extreme. In the song he compares himself variously to drug kingpins like Pablo Escobar, El Chapo Guzman and the fictional Alejandro Sosa from the movie Scarface. Hilariously, the songs chorus of ‘Taliban, Taliban, Taliban shoot ‘em up like Afghanistan’ got its premiere on the ETV’s youth show Shiz Niz. Horus is clearly self-aware about all this absurdity, as the song gets its name from Steven Spielberg’s family movie Hook!

Horus is promising that The Alien Tape will be a diverse mix, including a ‘heavy metal track. with Zulu verses’. The Horus name is that latest moniker of Pietermaritzburg born artist Luthando Sithole. Under his previous pseudonym Jonny Joburg, he both released his own work and produced for musicians like Cama Gwini. His lyrical and musical skills are most vivid in the moody track Mazishe. The song is both nostalgic and ominous, underscored by an exceptional music video which depicts the mystery of nocturnal Johannesburg. He also put in time hustling to break his music in the US, with stints spent in Miami and Los Angeles. Based on his Facebook page, he has quite the tale to tell as he interacted with moguls like Birdman and Puff Daddy. The time in America has fed into the Horus persona which reflects a less austere, more approachable contemporary style which will have wide appeal in South Africa and beyond.

5 May 2016
Chris Saunders: Hyperconnected Fashion

Chris Saunders is an award winning Johannesburg photographer and filmmaker who documents the richness of South African fashion, ranging from subcultures like the Izikhotane to individual street style. A key theme within his work is how fashion connects South Africa to global culture. He has practically applied this in his collaborations with UK producer Okzharp, whose music is released on the cult Hyperdub label. Along with music videos, they also worked together on the 2015 film Ghost Diamond. Starring dancer Manthe Ribane, the film is a visually opulent exploration of Johannesburg which draws on uncanny convergences between Zulu and Japanese mythology.

His latest photographic series extends this theme of cultural convergence. Working with clothes made by the New York based EDUN label, Saunders explores how the garments themselves are reminiscent of local styles. He found striking similarities with both the Swenakas, a classic Zulu fashion culture in which men peacock in designer suits and the Pantsula dance style, which he has long been documenting. Both subcultures are characterised by a competitive edge with adherents trying to outdo each other in both clothes and movement. In this latest shoot he worked again with Manthe Ribane, along with her sister Tebogo, deploying Swenka and Pantsula poses on the streets of Johannesburg. As he describes it ‘We re-interpreted classic masculine poses from the different sub-cultures and posed the shots in the harsh South African summer light, not shying away from its encompassing effect. I wanted to keep it as real as possible, maintaining a sense of believability which is often lost in fashion photography, but maintaining the fantasy of the over the top garments. The results are a less than typical aesthetic, poses which reference by-gone showmanship in masculinity shot in reality’.

Through blending the past and the cutting edge, the work shows the hidden structures of fashion: ‘The images take clothing which is designed in New York, manufactured ethically on the African continent, transported back to the USA and now imagined back in Africa and specifically in Johannesburg’.

26 April 2016
The People versus the Rainbow Nation; In conversation with Lebogang Rasethaba

Motlatsi Khosi (MK): “The People versus the Rainbow Nation” is a striking title that draws one deeply to this trailer. It suggests, to those who recognize its South African meaning, that all is not right for citizens. This title speaks to the growing disillusionment sweeping this country. From service delivery protests, to striking municipal workers and the latest, student protest movements. What role do you see this documentary playing in this growing movement facing the nation?

Lebogang Rasethaba (LR): I think the film, and also if you think about the primary function of the medium, reflects the times. So maybe it won’t add anything to the movement in terms of energy or whatever, like I don’t believe people watch a film and then go protest fees structures, but it will give some insight into what it means, or rather what it feels like to be a young person navigating the aligning vectors of power in society. That’s really what the film is about, it shows how all the current socio-political climate affects the young people in the film differently.

3. The trailer is tremendously captivating. It features words of anger and frustration from those not happy with the country Mandela left behind. Yet it also features images of young people, those presumably studying towards their degree, talking about politics and the state of the nation. What is it that you are hoping viewers, both local and international to take away from your documentary? What is it that you want them to learn about the issues being faced by students and their movements in South Africa?

Here’s the thing, this film isn’t some champion for the voiceless… I think what’s really dope about the current narrative amongst young people in SA right now is that there is a lot of authorship, a lot of the things you will hear in the film people all the world over have probably heard before. Young people are very clear, vocal and very articulate about their positions. So audiences aren’t going to learn anything because we know what racism is, we know what sexism is. We know what classism is, we know all this but they might gain some perspective because its always more impactful when the dialogue isn’t happening in the acrimonious comments section. Maybe the film presents those voices into a cohesive narrative in a filmic way that hasn’t been done before, maybe.

MK: South Africans are no strangers to the global structures and economic forces and are no strangers to international cultural trends. MTV is apart of this growing international influence that has even formed its own branch within our shores as MTV Base. How was this relationship formed between you and this media powerhouse and what role have they played in the direction of this production.

LR: One of the producers at MTV called me up and they told me that they wanted to give a young filmmaker a platform to voice his views on what’s happening in South Africa right now. They were really cool to work with because they didn’t interfere with the process or demand anything really, once we agreed that the film should interrogate the rainbow nation I never heard from them again. They kinda let me do what I wanted to. When I showed them the first cut they were like, I paraphrase, “fuck this is kinda different from what we imagined, its intense…we need to re-think and re-align our strategy”….you get what I’m saying here right? They had to retrospectively change their campaigns and strategies and whatever so they could align with the film. Imagine!

“The People versus the Rainbow nation” airs today at 21h15 on DSTV channel 130. You can also watch the film tonight at a viewing party at Chalkboard Cafe in Maboneng.

21 April 2016
WeHeartBeat turns four this April; they’re celebrating by hosting The Mellow Orange Crew and dropping weekly mixes

WeHeartbeat is a multi-media music platform encompassing a concept record store, live events, creative workshops, merch and exhibitions. The company is an international collective promoting black music and culture and will be celebrating its 4 year anniversary this April, with events hosting the Mellow Orange Crew (L.A) in Johannesburg and Cape Town.

Here’s a mix is by Ohmega Watts, it’s the first of a four-part of a series curated by both Mellow orange and WeHeartBeat for the anniversary.

This company is steeped in the sounds of black music including jazz, hip hop and soul. Through promoting events which feature excellent artists including Zaki Ibrahim, Eric Lau and Nonku Phiri, WeHeartBeat has become a fixture on the electronic and hip hop scene, a happy medium for heads and dancers.

An event they hosted featuring Young Fathers is a highlight of my 2015, the show raised the roof in King Kong for an epic experience. The beauty of the brand is the welcome alternative they offer to the pressurized pubs and clubs that dominate public social interaction; places pushing alcohol rather than artistry.

WeHeartBeat have integrated the soul and rebellion of black music into their brand; engendering spaces and events that stand out as celebrations of music and diversity.

The WeHeartBeat store in Melville, is all wooden, with records featuring everyone from FKA Twigs to Blu and Exile stacked all over the walls. Go see it, you might score an opportunity to have tea with the founders; Dominique Soma and Sims Phakasi. 4 years of life, love and beats is no mean feat. To many more beautiful, soulful occasions and spaces celebrating the rich heritage of black culture and music.

15 April 2016
Until Until: Curating Complexity in Jo’burg Nightlife

Until Until are a fast-rising crew of young entertainment entrepreneurs, curating events that attract as many as 4000 partygoers. After only 3-years in the game, this squad of 11 twenty-something’s describe their members as ‘pretty socially relevant’: a humble understatement since each boasts 1000-or-so Twitter followers and an astonishing ability to pull crowds.

As a young brand, Until Until have been consistently under-estimated by venue managers. ‘We told them, “Look guys, we’re going to have 3500 –4000 people. And we could just see, they just doubted us’.

Today, they’re claiming territory among industry heavyweights, attracting coverage from major media houses and collaborating with some of the country’s hottest DJs and performers. Their recent 2016 flagship party, Genesis All Black, boasted in its line-up: Euphonik, Khuli Chana, Das Kapital, DJ Speedsta and PH. Advertised dress: ‘Strictly all black’ Time: ‘from 4pm until until’.

I got together with two members — Thandile (Honx) and Thulani (Thulz) to chat about the micro-politics of the ‘turn-up’, starting with the very first party they threw:

‘June 16 was that Friday. On Wednesday we were like “Yo, what are we doing this weekend? What’s happening for June 16?” And there was nothing on the party calendar. So many friends were coming home. Thursday we announced. Friday it happened’.

Dubbed ‘High School Cool’ and pumped with a heavy dose of uniform-clad high-school nostalgia, the party was hosted on the tennis court of a friend’s Bryanston home and functioned as a tribute to ’76.

‘We had 700 people inside the house and about 400 people outside’

Big numbers for a suburban home. I imagined crowd insurrection disrupting the strictly-regulated pristine of Northern Suburbia.

‘Well look, we did tell the neighbours it was a traditional ceremony’ (laughs).

On face value it was hilarious subterfuge, but Honx was on to something. Among their multiplicity of social functions, traditional ceremonies serve to welcome returning relatives, celebrate achievement, mark rites of passage, pay homage to the ancestors, and cement connectedness between family and neighbours. Fuck it, ‘High School Cool’ did it all.

The middle-finger out-of-placed-ness connoted by an imagined traditional ceremony on a Bryanston tennis court was carried until until. Through each subsequent party, initially reluctant ‘North boys’ were hauled into the once-elusive city centre. ‘Popping bottles’ was made Braam-affordable so everyone could ‘have a shout’. And so elitism and inclusivity were brought into spectacularly contradictory collision.

With an off-hand reference to traditional ceremonies, Honx had messed with the neat Durkheimian demarcation between the sacred and profane. He had acknowledged that parties, rather than being simple triviality, were a cacophony of celebration, mourning, worship, rage and attachment. Protests, spiritual assemblies and political caucuses — like parties — so often rely on music, dance and a heaving crowd. We are regularly skirting the lines between play and politics.

Both marketing majors, Thulz and Honx understand that millennials frequently express their political selves through play: comedic memes and vines circulate online, reporting our socio-political milieu with damning satire. And just as we are bitingly playful in our politics, so too are we political in our play. In marketing their 2015 ‘Pyjama Party’, Until Until drew on design-styles from USSR/USA propaganda, catalysing an explosion of online gimmicks about the party/political. Themed The All Black Army, Genesis 2016 was inspired by a wave of student protests. Drawing on military imagery, it sought to connote a rallying of troops, unified by the colour black.

‘And how would you respond to the accusation that you are commercialising, even belittling, ‘The Struggle?’ I asked.

‘Firstly, the state of our country right now, that’s where we are. That’s where our minds are at, especially the youth. We can’t run away from that. You can’t ignore it. It’s there. You can think of something political and think about Until Until in the same light. We’ve given the brand a voice in this countrywide conversation. People will always party, whatever’s happening. So why not give you a party where it’s not like you’re running from something? You’re not partying to escape the realities. You’re partying knowing very well what’s happening’.

A trenchant critique of night-time escapism.

Thulz and Honx narrate Jo’burg nightlife as a raced status quo:

‘White people party there, black people party there, Indian people party there, coloured people… The fact that Taboo has two accounts: one called Taboo Urban Nights and the other just Taboo. Kong on a Friday is called Kong Urban Nights and then Saturday is called Kong. I guess they just don’t have a name for White Nights (laughs)’.

For these young entrepreneurs, night-time segregation results from a mode of music curation that under-estimates its audience, and consequently, produces audiences that miscalculate their own complexity. We’re intimidated by unfamiliar genres. Through raced assumptions about our tastes, nightclub owners unwittingly dictate our explorative capacity. Presumptions that ‘every young black must love hip-hop’ or that ‘EDM is for town-dwellers’ orchestrate dangerous comfort-zones.

Thulz: The reason an event like Genesis works is because I know that you as a white guy, you like Ricky Rick. You just haven’t been put in a situation where you’re listening to him.

Honx: I think Henry Ford said, ‘If I just asked people whether they wanted faster (horse) carriages, they would have said yes’. They wouldn’t have said ‘I want a car’. They wouldn’t have thought of that. I think a lot of club owners ask too many questions. They build this thing based on questions like ‘What do you want to listen to?’ For us, we didn’t ask if people wanted to listen to EDM at Genesis. We just put it on the line-up. We’re not solely focused on one genre. Get as much music as possible, as many people as possible, and put them in one place’.

Genesis audiences testify to its extraordinary genre-bending, in which there is no explicit switch from one genre to the next. DJs transition seamlessly from house, to hip-hop, to UK-garage, EDM and festival trap. ‘What sound that’s hot right now did you not hear at Genesis?’

I guess one could ask, ‘Aren’t Until Until manufacturing an artificial Rainbow Nation — a worrying faux-utopia?’

From a demographic perspective, the answer is plainly no. This is not a racial mixing-pot with equal doses of white, black, brown and everything in-between. But neither is South Africa. On some level, it’s a party that makes satisfying demographic sense. But more than that, Until Until are trying to rise to the nuanced complexities of their audience — to invite them (for this one night) to discover that they are more of a mess than their simplified typecasting. They remind us that nothing in us, or indeed in our politics, is pure or sacred or untouchable. And at the same time, everything is.

Follow them @untiluntil_za

13 April 2016
Joburg’s creative arts scene and the pitfalls of music success; A conversation with Kazim Rashid

Motlatsi Khosi (MK): The South African music and art scene has seen a new growth in the quality and success of her local acts. Artists such as Nakhane Toure, Moonchild and Elo are setting the bar high for the next generation of music entrepreneurs. I sat down to talk with Kazim, a young man neck-high in the UK creative and music scene who has frequented Johannesburg and other local cities. We met through mutual friend on his earlier visits and was quickly amazed by his stories and where his travels had taken him. I wanted to get a better sense of how he as a global citizen from London had been experiencing our local budding creative industry.

Please give us an excerpt of what you are about, where you come from and where you are going?

Kazim Rashid (KR): An abstract question to kick things off, you’re not for the feint hearted are you Mo. How to answer this? Where I should say, I am Kazim, full name Kazim Rashid, the artist formerly known as Kazim Kazim Kazim. I am a part of the Indian East African diaspora whose parents came as Immigrants and settled in the UK. I come from people who move about and thus it explains my current situation – one of nomadism of sorts. Where I am going Is a tricky one, tomorrow I leave for my next burst of activity [Berlin-Ethiopia-Johannesburg-Ibiza-London-Moscow-Paris-New York-London] but where I am going spiritually, emotionally and creatively is a question I don’t have an answer for the first time in my life and what I hope we can discuss today.

MK: I guess not having answers can be somewhat of a blessing in disguise. Having the answers can be a burden and I’m sure there is an old Chinese or African proverb that warns us that it is the wise who don’t have all the answers. Well, hopefully its through this interview that some answers will pop up but I’m also hoping the right questions will manifest themselves to our readers.

Coming to South Africa meant tapping into local talent and in your last visit you even scouted for some new music acts. Joburg has become somewhat of a favorite for you and you seem to be venturing here each time on a new mission.

KR: Originally I came as a guest of the British council for a project they were running called Connect ZA which invited leading entrepreneurs from the UK and Africa to Joburg to connect, workshop and hang. I immediately fell in love, head over heals, with the city, Its people and a spirit in the air. It reminded me of Berlin when I first moved there now around 8 years ago. A feeling I haven’t had since then, even having travelled all over the world; a truly unique magnetism and chemistry between the environment and myself. As of today I have now been here 3 times and each time it has been for different reasons and work, including a working Residency, an artist tour and of course the original British Council trip. The 4th time is happening in a couple of weeks where I will be returning to finish a TV project where I will be directing with some local friends and TV people.

MK: You get around Kaz. To me you represent a new stage in what it means to work. Multiple skills will be needed for an ever-globalizing world. You started out making music and DJing at parties. Your next move was working in the record company where you honed your entrepreneurial skills and now you’re working for the British council where you’re running workshops and moving onto teaching as part of your career. In your experiences there is plenty of on the job learning and you have also been blessed with the opportunity to travel as part of your training. Yet you have also gained from working and hanging out in Johannesburg.

KR: If I’m honest, most of my learning has been on a human level. I have spent my time with people who have had a very unique experience of the world; it’s history and the culture. In doing so my exposure to new ideas, new approaches to creativity and crucially critical discussion has been greatly influenced. In that sense, I think that has been both my greatest learning as well as my greatest stimulus and inspiration and most probably the reason I keep on returning. My experience and the community I work and hang with employ a level of critical discussion that I just don’t experience outside of SA, and it hugely inspires my thought process and thus my work.

MK: The Jozi bug has definitely hit you! Johannesburg historically has been seen as a place where anyone could come to make their fortune. Even its name says it all Gauteng, which translated means city of gold. Yet you’ve tapped into another side of her wealth less applauded in the mainstream. You see it as a place of ideas and knowledge I’m proud to say. Your biggest influence has been engaging with her people, her artists and business starters but with her youth in particular. You recently told me an anecdote where you were talking with one such community where you explained to them where you were at and where you had been. They responded with such amazement and awe yet you were quite dissillusioned with yourself. You had come this far yet something was missing and you could not look back at your own life with such vigor. You seem to be at your peak, one in which you are actively needing to look back on your life and more introspectively.

KR: Right now I’m at a very interesting stage in my life, a stage I hadn’t prepared for, nor had I anticipated or expected. I have been fortunate to achieve what I had set out to do. I have done great things with my work, things I also never set to do or never even imagined. My work has seen me travel to nearly every continent, all but the cold ones, and have friends in some of the best cities in the world. In doing so I have also come to realize that this feeling is flawed, it’s a trap I never thought existed. I have held many positions and am able to express myself through music, film, editorial and art. I have reached what you could describe as a somewhat professional and creative utopia. Having spent most of my life being driven by work and now realizing most of those ambitions, I have also come to realize that in fact, this isn’t the recipe for emotional or spiritual happiness – in the truest sense of the word. So, having not even reached 30 yet, how do I plan to live the rest of my life, in fact, how do I plan to live what will be the majority of my life? In a way which is both stimulating and satisfying.

MK: Its funny how life will always find a way to bump you outta action. You make your plans and you achieve them and yet you realize that actually that is not enough. Your experiences show two fundamental key points for any creative. The first being that you have to be willing to constantly learn and add new skills to the craft. There is this overwhelming need to work hard, keep busy and keep moving forward in order to reach your goals because there are thousands of others in the industry ready and wanting to take your place. But then there is the second point of choosing your goals wisely. We need money to survive but will it be enough to thrive on? You speak of spiritual wellness, of something beyond the immediate desires, for a more holistic approach to one’s well-being and identity. It’s not enough to reach our goals but to look deeper into who we are and figure out whether this is the person we want to become. This now, more then ever will be a very important question for the artists and entrepreneurs in South Africa’s booming music and cultural industry.

Thank you so much for having this interview with me Kazim and for sharing thoughts with our Bubblegumclub readers.

Kazim can be followed on Instagram through the handle @kazim_kazim_kazim

1 April 2016
Watch: TSA new video, ‘Tried to Tell Em’’

The Johannesburg rapper is on the rise with the release of ‘Tried to tell em’, the debut from his Nobody Else mixtape. The rapper and his brother, Bambaatha Jones, form the Nobody Else creative agency and collective. The style and sound in the video reflect TSA’s urban influences peppered with the perenial concerns of millenials; sneakers and self starting. The video features cameos from Bambaatha Jones and Alexias Roussos along with scenery from the skyline of Jozi; it’s a night of of pink lights and city life, enjoy it below.

The song is available for download here.

25 March 2016
Alphabet Zoo is inviting cultural practitioners to participate in a zine making residency

Alphabet Zoo, the Johannesburg based collective founded by printmakers Minenkulu Ngoyi and Isaac Zavale is hosting zine making nights at the Bubblegum Club project space in Newtown.

Ngoyi and Zavale have extended an open invitation to cultural practitioners interested in collaborating on the development of a zine over a three “zine nights” residency in March. All the nights will take place on Wednesdays, the first being on the 16th, the second on the 23rd and the third on the 30th of the month. The zines produced during the residency will then be presented on the 7th of April 2016 at Bubblegum Club as part of the April edition of Newtown’s first Thursdays.

After discovering a lonely printing press in the Johannesburg Art Gallery Ngoyi and Zavale started meeting twice a week to use the press and create collaborative work under the name Alphabet Zoo. As a way to expand their printmaking practice and to apply it in a more accessible way the duo started zines focused on “street culture” in Johannesburg.

Alphabet Zoo’s zines are often produced in collaboration with artists, illustrators and publishers within the collectives network. Their desire now, to develop self-publishing practices and to grow zine culture in Johannesburg is what has inspired them to initiate zine nights, a project which they hope will take off in the city.

14 March 2016
Thabiso: Gay CBD and the Complexities of Nivea-ness

Thabiso, a lean figure that would rouse rampant suspicion in the skinny-shaming society that lurked outside the shut door, carried a strong face with eyes that danced with miscalculated intensity. My gaze journeyed lazily along the smooth silver landscape where the moonlight licked his skin; his body paralysed by the emasculating failure that lingered like frankincense in the fabric of my sheets – he could not get hard.

He failed dismally at it and, as a result, we decided against the premeditated strictly top/bottom dichotomy that we were comfortably abiding by. It only felt fair for the continuation of that highly desired and aggressively pursued ritual that I penetrate him instead.

I did. And the pressure, coming from all dimensions of the universe, caused me to last only three seconds. I bowed my head behind his hot neck in shame while giving my last thrusts with a depleted dick in desperate denial. He eventually asked me if I had come. My nervous sigh said yes while the wrinkled grape scented latex around me said I was halfway through my second pot of tea already and it was time to leave. A bitter taste became my mouth. I never thought I would ever relate to one of those posters that sell performance enhancers with bold iridescent word art at every street corner.

Emasculated and displaced in our own sexuality, we lay next to each other. We both failed to execute a single one of the pornographic positions that were promised only minutes before in a heated post-badoo WhatsApp thread. How could we?

Thabiso tried to climb on top of me again but his eager pelvis met my defiant foot.

“Stop. No. Can I walk you back to your apartment?” I asked, with my hand gently playing an awkward symphony against his faint ribs while staring at the ceiling which seemed to go on forever in the darkness. “I have experienced violating sexual experiences lately and I’m really not comfortable with having you here anymore. I am sorry, I hope you understand.”

I finally looked into his eyes that seemed oblivious to the urgency in my glare. Any guy with good manners would be fiddling with his last button by now, I reasoned. Instead, he just lay there as still as the hot air around us. “It’s 3am” he finally whispered. “The security locks the gate at 12 and I don’t have my phone with me to call him” he insisted after I assured him that it was safe to walk at that time. There was no way out. Once again I was stuck with a stranger in my bed.

I talked myself out of the cry that doesn’t belong to us “men”, just in time to hear words I never thought I’d hear spoken in my bed. I grew up thinking, dreaming and naively pursuing the perfect image of love, the perfect romance, the picture of Lucas and Sammy rolling in the sands of Salem beach, the picture of that well built white male couple from the Gay Pages I secretly paged through but never bought from Exclusive Books as a teenager. Although all those ideals had been in the process of being unlearnt, in that moment they were shattered out of existence and the pieces pierced my inflated Delusions of Grindr.

“It happened to me too” He said. “I was 19 and still living in Cape Town. My boyfriend was much older. He invited me over one night, but he didn’t tell me his friends were also going to be there.” His eyes didn’t leave the ceiling.

“The pain….” He choked and I secretly hoped it was because of my strong cologne.

“… I had to go to the doctor the next morning for the bleeding.”

How many others? I kept wondering.

These are not necessarily the things we discuss during/after (a failed attempt at) meaningless sex. These are not necessarily the things we discuss over wine or while waiting to pee at Great Dane. These are not the things we talk about when we are alone with our closest friends. Why? Well, the reasons are probably beyond my comprehension but from where I stand, I have observed a crippling shame attached to any feeling other than the unfazed nivea-ness one is pressured to portray in public spaces as defence. The kind of nivea-ness that makes you ignore the guy you fucked the previous night when you bump into him at Shoprite the following morning; the nivea-ness that will force you to internalise your struggles out of fear that they might be used to moisturise another hoe’s scalp to your disadvantage; the nivea-ness that limits the way we love.

Our own dancefloors, in the clubs that were not designated for us but occupied by us until we could claim them as our own, have started to echo the violent erasure of the queer experience and all its complexity. You cannot even dance if you want dick when the dick wants nothing but the straight-acting serenity of post-mig33 nivea-ness, dipping its tongue into the neck of a Savannah bottle there by the corner.

Imagine if you wanted to talk, if you wanted to be nothing but yourself, to be transparent about the things that bother you: your poverty, your strained love life, the residual trauma of growing up gay in an anti gay world, the trauma of not being able to interrogate your own experience of sexual violence because misogynoir has become an integral part of your existence, a mere gaze that polices your horny, gyrating femme body into undesirable sub-human spaces where “tops” can force themselves into your anus even when you have said no because what else could you be asking for? You are gay. Gays love sex.

My experience with Thabiso made me aware of this ever-spreading rash of unspoken truths hiding beneath dark veil of nightlife in the cbd. It made me cherish the bravery of those who danced, those who walked the streets at night either to the club or to a stranger’s bed, to live the way they wished in a dark city that promised everything. It made me realise the importance of creating safer spaces beyond the frills of our sheets, where we can express our true nature in all its strength and vulnerability without the violence we’re so accustomed to in the daylight. Because everyone on the Buffalo Bills dancefloor, still or mobile, is essentially an adult who was once a child who was probably teased, who probably hated themselves until they found in a deep dark place the courage to fight for the visibility of their true light. It made me realise the importance of loving each other, even if it’s for a night, even after a failed sexual experience that left you feeling worthless and unlovable.

“I love you.” I told Thabiso.

We never saw each other again.

9 March 2016