Autumnal light cascades through the intersecting branches of a small avenue of plane trees. The occasional hoot peppers the ambient buzzing soundscape of Braamfontein. Adjacent, buildings are covered in corrugated shadow. Tucked away – just off Henri Street – a concrete and steel structure houses Lightfarm: a fine arts and photographic print studio.
The space is filled with machines, occasionally making quirky beeps or sprouting reams of paper. Andreas Vlachakis and Amichai Tahor started the business in late 2007 – initially working with up-coming artists. A decade later, these artists have grown and so has Lightfarm. The likes of Zanele Muholi, Ayana Jackson, Paul Shiakallis and Mary Sibande have worked with the studio from the outset.
Ayana Jackson, ‘Wild as the Wind’, 2015
The studio positions itself as a space of production. However, this is not limited to the technical element of printing. Andreas and Amichai resonate with the notion of the print studio embodying collaboration. This is the heart of their focus. Their partnership relies on this kind of dynamism and fluidity.
Both Andreas and Amichai draw on different backgrounds. Andreas comes from a photographic tradition of photojournalism, having worked for many years at the Star. Whereas, Amichai comes from a fine arts background and focuses on interdisciplinary projects. They jest that if a client doesn’t like the one, they are bound to like the other. Through their combined experience they draw on an incredible history and wealth of knowledge – one that translates through a spectrum of projects.
The democratisation of the camera – through the accessibility of digital photography and phone cameras – has revolutionised the space of photography and modes of archiving through documentation. Andreas and Amichai pivot their practice on the mastery of when the digital is manifest in physical and tangible space. They’re intrigued to see how this eruption in accessible images alters cultural production, especially in relation to the youth.
Benjamin Skinner, ‘White 003’, 2015
Mary Sibande, ‘The Admiration of the Purple Figure’, 2013
I interviewed Silondile Jali aka Slomokazi about her project #Nonke, which she describes as art fashion. Collaborating with photographer Paul Shiakallis, as well as her brother Siviwe Jali, Desire Marea, Fela Gucci, Mantis Shabane, Mamauba Mobi Malahlela and Assent Lesego Mnewe as models, this work is a celebration of self.
Tell our readers about the title for your project, #Nonke
DJ Euphonik went on a twitter rant at some stage last year, where he called out certain individuals “on their shit” so to speak. As expected the twitter world responded and the whole saga ended when he said #Nonke (everyone) – which became quite huge. Since then the term #Nonke has been used in a number of ways, initially to insult everyone but later it was used in a more positive way, eg. Nibahle #Nonke. This project is titled #Nonke, which on the surface looks like it’s just a reference to the twitter storm that happened last year but it’s also completely unrelated to that, and more in tune with how people started using the hashtag in the positive sense, eg. Nginithanda #Nonke.
Zifo Zonke
Tell our readers about the concept for the work?
Around the time I needed to present my shoot concept to Paul, I was on social media (obviously) when I saw a post from a friend. It asked, “if you met yourself at a social gathering, would you hang with yourself?”. Such a simple question. So many layered answers. Initially I thought ‘no’…then ‘maybe’…but the more I thought about it, the more I came to see myself from a view outside myself. And I actually liked what I saw. Which then inspired me to celebrate myself, but to do that without being vain. The challenge for me, was not to be in front of the camera – but to take the pieces of who I am and, like a mirror, to reflect them back to me.
What made you decide to explore self-love/self-recognition/self-growth through a “self-squad”?
We’re all familiar with the idea of “me, myself & I” and if you think about it, that is your personal team – your self-squad. No one is one-dimensional. We’re all puzzles. Once I began dissecting the pieces of my puzzle, and digging deeper into the different parts of who I am, it became clear that we all have bonds with our environment, our sexuality, our history, community and culture. Regardless of whether your puzzle is complete, in progress or yet to start – we have these elements and our future self is essentially molded by how we interact, react and feel with these pieces to build a new image.
So having decided that I wanted this shoot to be about me, but not actually feature me. I had to find an alternative way to “cast” myself. This meant I had to break myself up into different parts and assign a face to represent and capture each part of me.
Tell our readers about some of the locations you chose for this project.
At the time of the shoot, I was still living in Joburg inner city, so it was my everyday environment and reality. I wanted to capture the textures, colours and backgrounds that I saw every day. I didn’t want pristine and polished backgrounds. All the locations from downtown Joburg and the rooftop in Hillbrow have a story of misunderstood beauty – which is also a sub theme in this work. Hillbrow also has what I think are some of the best views of Joburg, and the rooftop worked so well with my theme of eZulwini.
The locations basically served as the backdrop to the Story of Slo – which only dawned on me later that they’re also a metaphor for those hidden, unknown and less pretty sides of me. The environment became both a mirror and a rebellion to say that beauty does exist and thrive outside the set standards and boxes of style.
iGolide
Explain the look and feel you wanted to create in this shoot.
For the styling, I curated all the looks directly from my wardrobe as an extension of the self theme. Strangely enough, I didn’t have a particular look in mind. I really allowed myself to work on feeling. I set out to match each set to different aspects of me – from my ego, my realisations and ambitions to tell the story of my joys, my struggles, my thoughts and even hints at my circumstances.
Tell our readers about the titles for the images.
[For the images titled ‘iGolide’] The rich brown and golden hues, tell the story of wealth in melanin, which reminds me that “ngiyiGolide lom’hlaba” (I am the gold of the earth).
The denim look is dedicated to my ultra self, which is aptly named ‘Zifo Zonke’ – which loosely means “the cure of all ailments” and comes from traditional muthi concoctions that (claim the ability to) cure you of anything and everything. For me, this is basically the fashion equivalent of wearing white and denim to any and every occasion. Interestingly enough, the first denim brand that I knew of happened to share a name with my grandmother, and without realizing, the styling began to connect a greater story of self from my roots to my ego.
I’ve been told that red wine is a ‘major food group’ in my diet – so it was only fitting that I kitted out the talent in the colours of red grapes against leather as a play on both the textures, odours and flavours of the Goddess’s drink. The title is a play on the similarity of colours between wine and blood but low key also a shout out to friends that have become family. [For images titled Igazi namaglebhisi].
And then for last look I wanted to touch on the idea of where and how culture can contrast and compliment religion all at once. The rooftop location for this ensemble only made the concept stronger, as I titled the look ‘Ezulwini’, which is heaven in isiZulu – but can also (very loosely) be interpreted as ‘Place of the Zulus”. This is a heavy reference to the fact that I was raised in a family that carries very strong cultural beliefs alongside Christian beliefs.
Igazi namaglebhisi
Tell our readers more about the abstract that you wrote for this work. Are there any specific parts of the abstract you would like to draw our attention to?
I wrote an abstract for this work to try capture and express my intentions and thoughts behind the shoot. I think the part I’d most like to highlight is that “We’re all puzzles, some complete, some in progress, others yet to start but we all have bonds with our environment, our sexuality, our history, community and culture” because right now we live in the age of content and for the time first time in most of our lives , we’re finally seeing people like us flourish and shine in terms of representation. But as similar as we may be, everyone is different and it’s important to appreciate your individual journey and process. This leads me to another part I want to draw attention to because it’s as self-explanatory as it is motivational; “I started off struggling with myself image, then went on to fighting and trying to change who I am before I realised being a version of someone else isn’t an option on the menu…Eventually, I came to understand that being fully me was a beautiful thing and this gave me the strength of Samson from within”.
All of the images and the abstract will be up on Slomokazi’s blog soon. Be sure to check her out on Instagram to keep up to date with her work.
What makes a good portrait? What has made this genre so important that it became its own discipline within the arts? It is a medium that pulls you in through one’s need to connect with others. It objectifies the self as a moment in time. The viewer is seduced by this static self and we begin to realize something about ourselves through this 2 dimensional other. Is this who I used to be? Is this what I want to become? Is this the person who I never ever want to become? These works force us to answer these questions as we begin to tap into a deeper understanding of ourselves.
Yet attitudes towards photography must not be generalized. At a point in history Native Americans were accused of being fearful of having their picture taken out of fear for their souls being stolen by the machine . Ironically the very process of picture taking has long since been a tool of colonialization. Indigenous peoples would find themselves exoticized by being categorized as inferior under the guise of scientific enquiry. The camera has never been an objective tool. It can very easily lie when placed in unscrutinized hands.
Mina Nawe is a photographic series which breaks down this disconnect between subject and voyeur, reconnecting the person to their audience. Its very name translates to “you and me” and represents a need for the viewer to engage with the model through the political landscapes of our continents heritage of black portraiture.
Mina Nawe continues this tradition of bringing back the life to a space where black lives don’t matter. The series is a collaboration between stylist Slomokazi (Silondile Jali) and photographer Paul Shiakallis. Their project “showcases modern African style and beauty by exploring gender roles, identity and affordability” (Mina Nawe, 2016).
In the photographs we see two people; a couple, brother and sister, lovers or just friends; it is not clear. What is clear is that they are sharing this space through formal stance. Like the old school studio portraits, their pose exposes a regality that in contemporary times tends to be unjustly accused of lacking a dignity reminiscent of a previous generation.
Yet the viewer is confronted with another layer to these familiar portraits. A bearded body in a skirt. An Afro crowned goddess in suit pants. Sexuality becomes fluid and the clothes can no longer be used to identify gender. A child presumably younger than 16 is also featured yet their clothing stands in stark contrast with their “adoptive photo parents”. His clothing is grunge or comfortable street wear. Oversized shirts and heavy boots. The series seems to be playing with the concept of the generation gaps through styles. The formality of the “parents” pose in contrast with the child just standing in front of the camera but with a certain rigidity.
Two worlds are at play within the series and we the viewers are invited to engage. These are black bodies as beautiful. They are black bodies as normal. They are black bodies whose gender and I dare say sexuality is even questionable. Yet the very act of such questioning reflects not the problem of styling but the viewer’s unquestioned assumptions over what constitutes gender. We have so much to learn about ourselves as South Africans and it is through such portraits, and states of confusion, that one can get their start in self-understanding.
