Bubblegum Club

Tag: photography

  • Ashley Armitage// What it means to be a real girl

    Ashley Armitage// What it means to be a real girl

    Period stained underwear. Armpit hair fashioned with brightly coloured clips. Stretch marked buttocks and boobs with spots are just some of the images belonging to Seattle based photographer, Ashley Armitage. The young feminist photographer recently received her BFA in Photomedia and focuses her work on female representation. Ashley’s vision is to have women painted by women. Her work has brought up mixed responses on Instagram however, with people questioning her choice to not use the stereotypical cis model as her muse. Despite the backlash on Instagram, Ashley perseveres with her aim of authentic female representation.

    Ashley found her femme driven meaning through her frustration with the way in which the media represents femininity. You know the imagery all too well of thin, white, able-bodied gender normative women. Ashley’s close female friends are captured in intimate portraits that oppose the principal narrative that society has constructed surrounding the meaning of being female. Showing femmes with natural, diverse beauty, Ashley photographs real girls with real bodies, imperfections untouched, in a dreamy, hazey pastel dream.

    Image from the series ‘Taking Back What’s Ours’

    “I create images of the female body because historically these images have been controlled by men. We were always the painted and not the painters. I’m trying to take back what’s ours and explore what it means to have a body that has always been defined by a male hand”

    Ashley states that her shoots often materialize when she is simply hanging out with her girl gang and she happens to have her camera around to capture the most intimate moments of girlhood, moments that I believe are eloquently described by Britney Spears in her song, ‘I’m Not a Girl, Not Yet a Woman’ released in 2001.

    Image from ‘The Girls Room’

    She believes that in order to change the way in which the female body is viewed resistance is the first natural step before acceptance. Deeply embedded in Ashley’s work is her message about body positivity and her desire for every woman to be able to look on a tv screen or flip through a magazine and see themselves represented there in a light that is honest yet retains beauty. For me that is where the true importance of photography such as Ashley’s lies, is in the tasteful way that she is able to authentically document what she sees and show the absolute beauty of all of her sitters regardless of what society might consider to be imperfections or out side of the norm.

    I look at Ashley’s work and I see myself represented. This is a rather astounding fact as I am sure that many woman today look through magazines, look at models and we can’t relate to that fake image of a person who is not even a person (because the images are often made to be so idyllic due to applications of make up and airbrushing as well as photo shop).

    Image from ‘The Girls Room’

    In a recent study by Yahoo health it has been indicated that 94% of American teenage girls have fallen victim to body shaming at some point in their life. The statistics are gruesome and in my own experience as a photographer working with girls and young women for the better part of my photographic explorations, body insecurities is something that so many young females struggle with daily. Having been a victim of body shaming myself, I like many women out there are tired of trying to be something we just aren’t. Like us, don’t like us, it’s ok because we like ourselves. Why on earth are we subject to these hyper unrealistic fake standards that are not achievable in any way or fashion?

    The Instagram handle Ladyist is suitable to Ashley’s work as she’s trying to changed these ideas of girlhood that have been so imprinted on us from a young age. Her work is relevant as it seeks to create a shift in not only how femme bodies are seen but in regards to how femme bodies view themselves. We can only hope that from photographers like Ashley change is inspired and that more females will start accepting themselves for the beautifully diverse beings we are.

    Image from ‘Taking Back What’s Ours’

     

    Image from ‘The Girls Room’

     

    Image from ‘Refinery29 No Apologies’

  • Andindedwa – a photographic series on ancestral acknowledgement and cultural rediscovery

    Photographer and art director Thina Olona Zibi feels that creative imagery is something that has always been a part of her world. Having picked up a camera only 6 years ago, she has become well-known for how she captures various aspects that make up life in South Africa. “I was really drawn to styling, interesting personalities and everyday individuals on the street,” Thina explains. Her new exhibition ‘Andindedwa’ now showing at Agog Gallery in Maboneng speaks to her exploration of the human body in conjunction with ancestral acknowledgement and cultural rediscovery.

    How do you like to describe your artistic practice?

    I tend to work organically. I struggle with structure. When it comes it comes.  I like going out there and finding something to shoot. However currently I have started creating sets. My work has been described as “honest” or “pure”. It’s important that an image moves me. That when I decide if it is worth sharing.

    What are some of the themes you enjoy exploring?

    I gravitate a lot towards face and portraiture and the human body. There is something alluring about the human body and the energy an its existence. People are a big influence in my work.  There is something immeasurable and timeless about the human connection in photography.

    Please share more about the concept behind this photo series as well as the name you chose for the series. You mentioned that you are looking at African spirituality. Which aspects are you looking at specifically and how have you executed this in these works?

    ‘Andindedwa’ is Xhosa term meaning ‘I am not alone’, and in this particular context it acknowledges the spiritual realm that is among us. This photo series aims to relook the idea of African spirituality and reconsiders it as a viable practice for understanding where and how we are embedded in this world. In some way, I’m confronting the existence of this other world, parallel or protruding into, ours. My confrontation is coloured with my own surprise and confusion at the discovery of this world as I examine, and perhaps try to reclaim, a spiritual identity and practice that is lost with many contemporary Africans.

    The images borrow cues from “ukuhlanjwa” (spiritual cleansing). During this practice one is usually asked by their traditional healer to slaughter chickens in order to relieve themselves from malicious energy or to appease the ancestors. The photography is not a linear translation of how this is done exactly. The imagery plays with chicken body parts, blood, the bath (deliberately a modern design) to create a stylised, metaphorical rendition of ukuhlanjwa. No literal interpretation is intended.

    The subjects are searching – at times painfully, at others defiantly and admirably, even desperately – for relief and fulfilment. The viewer may detect a certain kind of distance in the subjects, not unlike the photographic studies of members of various subcultures, seeking both separation from a majority identity and inclusion into a new identity to which they can relate. The intangible obscurity in the pieces are the result of being engaged in ritual and occupying a liminal space. A rebirth is suggested, pertaining to a personal spiritual and cultural rediscovery and reconnection.

    You also mentioned that on the 9th of August there were installations by Tshego Khutsoane on show at the gallery. How will these tie in with your photographs?

    Tshego has added a more dynamic and tactile spiritual element to the show. Many people see ancestral acknowledgement as a dark, taboo practice that makes many feel uncomfortable. It’s that it is considered unparalleled to Christianity. The story of the exhibition is fighting that belief. Acknowledging ancestors has brought light, comfort and better understanding of self for many individuals.  The installation Tshego has incorporated bring forward light, warmth, comfort, cleanliness as well as a ancestral space that involves holiness. This is brought through with lit candles, flowing white fabric and sound installation of a woman singing popular African hymns that an average individual can relate to. The images focus a lot on the stages I went through when I understanding my relationship with my ancestor, these are further translates by a performance by  Ayanda Seoka, who brings these stages through life by taking the viewer through a journey throughout the exhibition.

    The show will be taking place at Agog Gallery, Maboneng until the 4th of September.

     

  • Masixole Ncevu – capturing city living

    Masixole Ncevu creates work in charcoal and video, but his photography is taking centre sage at the moment. Having moved to Johannesburg from Cape Town last year, he has been photographing the sprawling metropolis and the vibrant characters that inhabit it. I interviewed him about how his move to Johannesburg has allowed him to embrace colour photography, and work on putting a book together.

    You work in charcoal and video as well but your photography seems to be taking centre stage at the moment. Could you share more about your relationship with photography and how it has evolved?

    Having been fascinated by black and white photography from an early age, I prefer to use charcoal for my drawings. My style is heavily influenced by my love for human figures and by my own emotions.  Whether I draw a close up or full portrait, I immensely enjoy the creativity and freedom of expression that comes with it. My love for video/short films comes from me continuously trying to challenge myself to find different ways of creating and enhancing the visual impact of my work. For me whether or not I succeed in that it is up to the subjective responsiveness of the viewer but the process of getting there is worth all the hard work and that for me is both deeply therapeutic and emotional.

    You also recently moved to Johannesburg from Cape Town. Could you please share more about the decision to do so and how this has affected your artistic practice?

    I felt the need to challenge myself because I was starting to feel too comfortable with the familiarity of Cape Town. I’m really passionate about traveling and Johannesburg is the beginning of that journey. I chose Johannesburg because it is the melting part of cultures and traditions and it is the gateway to Africa. I’ve always been interested in fashion and the move to Johannesburg has also created a shift in my work from black and white documenting, to embracing colour photography, as a means to express the vibrancy of Johannesburg’s street fashion.

    You are working on a book at the moment. Could you please share more about what the book will contain and how you have made progress with it so far?

    I’m treating the book as a work in progress. My intention for the book is to be a portrait of Johannesburg but the exact nature of the book will reveal itself as the work progresses.

    I have been looking at the work you have been sharing on Tumblr. Are these images part of what will be included in your book? Or are these separates series?

    It maybe a collection of photographs from the projects or I may end up choosing one of the projects that I feel represents Johannesburg in more a powerful way.

    I noticed that a lot of your photographic projects are works in progress. Is this a reflection of how you work and how you approach your photography?

    When I start a project/series I don’t immediately think ‘OK this is my next big project/series’. I just use photography as a way to investigate something that holds my interest. I respond to things I feel moved by or that I feel politicized by. Sometimes it works itself into a project/series, sometimes it doesn’t. I treat all of my projects as works in progress, and keep exploring them until I feel that I have told the story in a meaningful way.

    You have quite a few projects that you have been working on this year which I have seen on your Tumblr. Could you share more about your series “Sunday Street”? Where did the inspiration for this come from?

    I find peoples spiritual believes to be a fascinating part of the human condition. I’m interested in exploring how different people express their faith and I’m particularly in interested in how people in Johannesburg mix their western Christian beliefs with their traditional ancestral practice. So initially what drew me to make this photograph was their striking church clothes.

    From the series ‘Sunday Street’, Johannesburg, July 2017

    Could you share more about your series “Back seat”?

    In Cape Town my primary means of public transport were trains but since moving to Johannesburg I’ve been using taxis as a means of exploring the city. The scenes I was experiencing while using taxis reminded me of the work of Micheal Wolf from the project ‘Tokyo compression’. My interest was sparked when I witnessed two passengers fighting for the back seat and it made me wonder why that seat was a hot property.

    From the series ‘Back seat’, Johannesburg, July 2017

    Could you share more about your series “Trousers”?

    Johannesburg has a rich history of Pantsula, Swankas and Omashesha, a style taken from the ’60s and ’70s associated with gangsters and street dancers. Since I’ve always been interested in street fashion moving to Johannesburg has given the opportunity to explore the style.

    From the series ‘Trousers’, Johannesburg, 2017

    What is particularly interesting is how you have chosen to pair/group your images on your Tumblr and website. Could you share a bit more about these choices?

    I intentionally group my images in order to create a visual link between them, so that they can tell a complete story. When I present an image on its own, I do so when it tells a story on its own.

    Is there anything specific that readers should look out for from you this year?

    I’m participating in a group exhibition in Nimes, France (Nov 2017 – Feb 2018) with a photography gallery called NegPos. There is also a possibility of a group exhibition in London on the horizon (October 2017) but I will keep people posted on all my social media.

     

     

  • 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.

  • Marcia Elizabeth // Capturing Moments of Collective Memory and ’90s Nostalgia

    A saturated mustard yellow surface glistens, punctuated by gleaming circles of a similar shade. A jar brimming with nostalgic gelatinous forms lies at a half-tilt, threatening to spill over.  Memorabilia from a bygone era. Fuchsia lips and the wide-eyes of a direct gaze are adorned by these scattered semi-transparent shapes. Each one slightly different, exuding an individual character. One acts as a cheeky jawbreaker, caught in the midst of porcelain teeth. Tendrils of long dark hair are tussled around shoulders of a rekindled playful innocence. A collected history of childhood captured in the face of adolescence.

    Johannesburg based photographer, Marcia Elizabeth, recounts how the translucent creatures were formative icons of her childhood. Jojo’s initially emerged on the scene in the year 1999. “It was a big competition between all the kids in my school to collect these plastic blobs in either neon or transparent colors. Finding these toys were a game in themselves because they weren’t available everywhere and came in blind bags.” A similar strategy was applied to their distant, slightly more archaic cousins, marbles: “The objective of the game was for one participant to toss out his Jojo and for the other players to hit it when throwing theirs. The player who succeeded would then win the Jojo he or she successfully hit.” These tactics made for hours of competitive fun.

    “As a little girl I was a part of an all girl’s scooter gang who would race up and down the streets of Nieuw Muckleneuk always on the hunt for Jojo’s and general mischief. We traded in Jojo’s and had a massive collection. Reflecting on it now, perhaps we had a syndicate running. Jojo’s though playful in nature, gave us a sense of power and credibility among the other kids in the neighborhood. It was what our street cred was measured by.” Marcia draws on this collective and personal iconography – employing visual signifiers of late-90s nostalgia to create points of accessibility in this body of photographic work.

     

    Credits:

    Makeup artist and stylist – Anny Botha

    Model – Nicole Sen represented by My Friend Ned

     

  • Janelka Lubbinge: constructing synergy with the female form and natural landscapes

    Lubbinge’s photography is female driven and with her cunning use of nature and the female form she pulls her viewers into a carefully curated utopia unique to her work. Nature and the female form become one as she captures with her lens that which she finds beautiful and inspiring.

    Lubbinge lived in Pretoria for most of her childhood. At the age of 13 her family migrated towards a quieter life to the small coastal town, Port Alfred in the Eastern Cape. As Lubbinge approached Grade 9 she was sent to an All Girls boarding school in Port Elizabeth where she completed her matric.

    She saw the world through a viewfinder for the very first time as a young 12-year-old girl photographing her eldest sister as a pastime. The camera in question belonged to her sister but to Lubbinge, it was hers. In order to protect the peace between the two sisters, her parents soon had to get her a camera of her own.

    In grade 10 Lubbinge got her first SLR camera and started documenting the world she found herself in at that age; a world that consisted of hostel and school life at an all girls school. “I was glued to my camera and it became a big part of my life.” Mesmerized by the realm photography had created for her, Lubbinge found comfort behind the lens of her camera.

    Using natural landscapes as the backdrops for her imagery, Lubbinge feels that growing up in a family that has a special love for nature, has made her feel like it is a part of who she is as a person. “I love how a landscape can patiently wait, and when the light strikes at the right time she transforms to her full splendor. She is ever changing and always perfect. I find studios restraining and I struggle to interact with an empty space. My talent lies in spotting something that is already there and giving it new meaning.”

    Lubbinge strives to portray the environment in her backdrops the same way that she sees them with her physical eye at that given time. She enjoys going on photo missions with friends and is enticed by how a sunrise and a sunset possess different qualities. “I love how the same beach always looks different or completely new, as it is a subject to light and tides. I love the lines nature creates and how plant growth and light clothes mountain ranges just like a girl would clothe herself.”


    Finding inspiration in people that she considers beautiful, nature itself and unusual clothing in interesting colours, Lubbinge captures what she sees with her naked eye in a hypnotic fashion. “We are all interconnected, constantly inspiring each other to improve and to do more.  If I can learn one thing from other photographers is that I can always improve…it is part of the journey. It’s a great attitude to have to stay inspired.”

    Growing up with a predominantly female presence in her life, Lubbinge is acutely aware of the insecurities that come with being female as well as the social expectations women feel obligated to honor. Lubbinge expresses that she possesses many of these insecurities herself and therefore finds comfort in other women.

    Choosing to photograph women because she understands their inner workings, she captures something inside her subjects that they might not have been aware that they possess themselves. “I have never quite felt comfortable in my own skin and I want to make the people around me feel like they can and should be comfortable with themselves because I see the beauty they carry within them and that beauty has a physical manifestation.”

    Stating that her photography is generally for herself and her models, Lubbinge finds gratification in the emotional responses her work evokes to her viewers. Her photography is intended to be an adventure and its purpose to capture how she feels about people and her environment.“When people and nature come together they create magic. I hope to trigger a feeling of honesty and positivity.” Lubbinge’s desire is for her photography to show her perception of the women portrayed in them and how they make her feel alive.

    The girls featured in Lubbinge’s work consist largely of her friends and family. In her process Lubbinge strives for authenticity and styles her own shoots. Using locations that have pulled her attention by means of its unique qualities, Lubbinge relies on natural lighting to portray realness. The spontaneity of working with natural light is something that Lubbinge enjoys and considers to be a defining characteristic of her work.

  • The Seppis – Two lovers. One vision

    The Seppis is a collective consisting of married couple, Seemaa Allie and Taariq September. The Cape Town based collective toil together in art direction, styling and photography. Their imagery and practice creates an aesthetic verging on unease and unconventional beauty.

    The Seppis was molded 11 years ago when Allie and Taariq started collaborating together during their dating phase. They started working under the brand, The Seppis about 3 years ago when the two creatives ventured into freelancing. In Allie’s words, “We are all about creating whether it be stills or videos. We are passionate about collaborating and learning as we go.”

    Having collaborated with Dope Saint Jude, Slabofmisuse, Simon Deporres, Mehnaaz Maleta and others, The Seppis are as involved in the production, photography, art direction and styling as a job brief allows. Allie states that in their practice they choose to have input in all aspects of the projects they are involved in.

     

    As a collective they largely create their own projects or collaborate with other creatives on projects that they have been a part of since their inception. “I think the major drawing card for us with regard to projects is the possibility of working with other creatives we respect and admire. The other elements that come into play is if the project has ‘meat’; by this I mean substance and is it relevant” – Seemaa Allie.

    Art directing their lives knowingly from a young age, photography was an art form they experimented with in their early years. It became their main medium of expression as they progressed in their artistic careers. The Seppis were trained within the realm of analogue photography and still practice it to some extent. They do however, shoot predominantly in a digital format at the current stage in their practice.

    Allie tells me that the lighting choices they work with in their projects is dictated by the required mood of the shoot stipulated in the brief for each individual shoot. The Seppis focuses on creating evocative imagery as the final product of their creative expression.  Within each individual project, they create continuity in their imagery, whether it be from the same series or project, or that from another projects entirely. Their focus or aim can be seen as the element that gives their imagery it’s signature look and feel.

    The Seppis are hands on with the location scouting of the projects they take on, their choice being directed by their project brief. “Location plays a big role in getting your narrative across especially when it comes to stills so careful consideration is put into choosing the location. There have been occasions that we happen upon a location and the location forms the base or the kick off point for a concept.”

    “We still have a very long list of people we would love to work with. We want to work, we want to create, we want to have kids, the future is bright and chaotic. Just the way we like it.”

  • Olivia Mortimer: Thinking about the female gaze in film

    I feel like I’ve always known Olivia, if knowing her from the age of 7 is counted as always. After not seeing each other for nearly three years, I met up with her for an interview about her photography and work in film. The way that females are portrayed in her work has always been something that I marvel at. When I walked into her apartment I felt as though parts of her character had been spread across the different rooms,  from her assortment of teas and almond milk to the rose quartz in her lounge and her bell jar. Once our water had boiled we sat down and discussed her practice and the female gaze.

    Stills from ‘Suburbia’ film by Olivia Mortimer

    Marcia Elizabeth (ME): Can you tell me more about your background? At what age did you get into photography, and at what point did you get into film?

    Olivia Mortimer (OM): I grew up in Pretoria with an Afrikaans upbringing. The culture is quite conservative in a sense. I’m lucky that my parents allowed me to pursue what I wanted to in life. I started going on to the Internet in grade 7 and I was like, ‘oh photography is fucking cool’. I always wanted to be a fine artist with paint and pencil. Then our scanner at home broke so I couldn’t scan art anymore to put up on DeviantArt. So I was like, ‘Cool let me try photography’. I started off with point and shoot and I just got obsessed with the instant gratification of photography. There was just a spark and I just kept taking photos. The more and more I did it the more people commented on it being ‘ok’ and I was like ‘oh cool, it’s not that shit’.

    I carried on with that. I just wanted to be a photographer. Then I met some friends in Jo’burg who wanted to do a short film and I was like ‘Cool ya I love film’. On our Matric vac we made Teen Creeps. We would film, put it on the computer, edit and film, and so we churned out a film about adolescence.

    Looking at it now I still have such a soft spot for it. At the same time that was the thing that got me really into cinematography, but still I didn’t plan on studying it. I went to Open Window Institute in my first year and took film and photography as my majors. Something just made more sense with film. I wound up failing photography at Open Window. With film I was like, ‘I’m really fucking good at this’. My lecturers told me that I had an eye. Like, ‘yeah, fuck yeah I have an eye, fucking cool’. That’s why I switched over to making film my major.

    ME: I stumbled across an article about 17-year-old Olivia by 10&5 and there you stated, “My photography is mostly about being a teenager and being young and living in the time that is the best days of life to some people. I’m interested in the juxtaposition of innocence, being young, dumb and carefree and the rebellion that comes naturally with being a teenager.” How has your work shifted since then?

    In a sense it has shifted but I also feel like that does still apply to my age group. I don’t think that anyone in my age group really knows what we are doing yet. We are all just really trying to figure out what is going on. We are still fucking dumb and young and carefree and we don’t know what the fuck we are doing. We all felt the same way at 17 and we all thought that at 24 or 25 we were going to have our shit together which is such a delusional fucking idea.

    When I was younger I always had my camera with me so I guess I just took photos of my friends all the time doing whatever, getting drunk, swimming, smoking weed. I was just documenting everything which I do miss doing. At the same time you need to also back away and not take photos and actually be in the moment. You do miss capturing really spectacular moments of youth culture and your friends being in this age of experimentation. I don’t think the subject matter or the feeling of my work has changed much since I was that age.

    ME: Who are the models and people featured in your films?

    OM: My friends or people I am instantly drawn to. I am drawn to women because women have this beautiful energy about them. It’s strong and captivating. Women have the power to not only be feminine but also very masculine at the same time, it’s just electric and fucking beautiful capturing the female form with the female gaze and not sexualizing the body of a woman. Purposefully making them have rolls and stretch marks and pubic hair and arm hair, and that’s how it should be. Women are powerful beings and that needs to be unlocked more.

    ME: Can you tell me what Teen Creeps is about?

    OM: We decided to make a film about this time and this age that we are in right now and we asked all of our friends if they wanted to be in a short film. At that age you are just young and reckless, getting drunk. It’s just a little love note to Jo’burg and being young.

    ME: Was it difficult for you to make the transition from still imagery into moving imagery?

    OM: Not at all, it felt so natural. I developed a sense of framing things and had that eye from all of my years of practicing photography. I sometimes help the Honours students at Open Window film their projects.  The lecturers can instantly see that it is my work and they know my style. I specialize in using only natural lighting. I don’t care if my footage is grainy and noisy.

    ME: I feel like the female presence is significant in your work. Can you expand on its significance?

    OM: There definitely is because I’m female and I want to tell stories of women not just being the protagonist’s love interest. Sadly there is not a big presence of women in the South African film industry, especially behind the scenes. I want to tell stories about women at specific times during their lives.

    Suburbia shows a woman at a time in her life where she’s like, ‘I’m going to fuck some guy in a car and then I’m going to go home. I don’t need him to be interested in me. I don’t need him to take me out for breakfast the next day. I want to have sex and I’m going to have sex. I’m going to get this done and I’m going to have a good time.’

    People aren’t used to seeing women portrayed like that in cinema. It is weird for people to see any kind of females in cinema where it’s like, ‘I’m fucking strong but I’m also fucking weak at the same time.’ The female character is somehow created as this thing to sexualize over with the male gaze. It’s so important for women to get into film to tell more female driven stories.

    ME: Do you feel like you present women differently than men do? In what sense would you say that your gaze is different to a male cinematographer’s gaze?

    OM: Ya, I don’t think that men realize that they sexualize women. Obviously there are male cinematographers who don’t sexualize women but it may also not be noticeable when you first see it. Certain angles and lighting really make a difference.  How we filmed the sex scene in Suburbia is different to how a man would have filmed it. We filmed it where you could only see the back of the man’s head, it was all focused on her and her being like, ‘I’m basically using you as a sex toy and getting out of here.’ She wasn’t heaving and was all like ‘oh my god this is so hot’. She was just like, ‘cool, cool, cool, all done’.

    Stills from ‘Suburbia’ film by Olivia Mortimer

    Check our Olivier’s film Teen Creeps below. To keep up with her work visit her website.

  • Euridice Kala AKA Zaituna Kala // Sea (E)Scapes from the Shores of Slavery

    The freedom of all is essential to my freedom

    -Mikhail Bakunin

    The tide of migration; sweeping through coastlines. A personal history of inter-continental travel. Memory washed up on a receding shore. Rock pools bubble to the brim, swirling shades of deep aqua and teal. Bleached pigment fades into the edges of a Polaroid. A snapshot of histories.

    “I come from a place of physical fights, death and violence. Until as recently as last year, Mozambique was at war, people do not seem to be afraid of death as we express with this kind of violence, and we heal and manifest physically our grievances.” Maputo born artist, Euridice Kala AKA Zaituna Kala, responds to a context of violence in her work. “I am as part of that history as anyone is for my life is part bi-product of it…The only thing is to find ways to heal and reconcile –Africans in general have been associated with this healing nature, if you look at works of many of us (African Artists and Diaspora) we are trying to close gaps where it seems we were passive agents.”

    She describes her practice as a “space of self discovery.” Her conceptual process is also one of fluidity, “there needs to be a constant critical screening of personal and collective beliefs, as we move and change as human beings”.  “My work is not another sharp knife stabbing the same people who are used to being stabbed and continue as living corpses. My work is in fact the opposite, to hold the urge to stab and use this in-between to resolve some questions.”

    Kala has been involved with the project, Sea (E)Scapes, for the last three years. The project traces the route of the Sao Jose Paquete d’Africa that in 1794 was ship wrecked off the coast of Cape Town. About half of the slaves aboard tragically drowned.  “This is a parallel project between artistic and research process. I’ve been in Lisbon, in Ilha de Moçambique, in Cape Town and other related places.” The project thus far has culminated in performances, photographs, video pieces, and texts.

    “I have concerns…concerns that only through expression in art I see an appeasing of my questions. I am not a conceptual artist, I am a visual agent in the art world and my responsibility is to be as descriptive as possible when I present my ideas to the limited and sometimes repressive world of art and hope for the best.”

    Video Still from Sea (E)scapes, 2016

  • Vicky Grout – documenting London’s grime scene today

    Grime is a music genre which originated in East London in 2002. During its first wave MCs like Kano, Dizzee Rascal and Wiley shook UK culture to its core. Rejecting very stylized beats, MCs were more drawn to a DIY sound. The music was often made on free computer software such as FruityLoops. Creating a voice and platform for disillusioned youths, grime took to the underground rapidly.

    The name on the UK scene’s lips is the young Vicky Grout who has swiftly become as much of a trademark as the faces documented with her camera. Skepta, the London grime artist who won the Mercury Prize for his fourth studio album “Konnichiwa”, was shot by Grout in 2016 for the cover of Time Out. Skepta made a post on Instagram stating, “Hate photos, love Vicky Grout”.

    Grout’s respect and hunger for the scene combined with her self taught talent has enabled her to embed herself in a scene that is intensely protective of its own. By staying real she has become the go-to documentarian for musicians of grime. She has images of some of the biggest names in the scene featured on her Instagram gallery. Her portraits are clean, cool and show distinctive detail.

    The photographer that fell into the scene by accident has been dabbling in photography since she was a child, taking photographs in her grandmother’s garden with the family DSLR. She got her first camera, a small compact Olympus 35mm, when she was 13 years old.

    Initially documenting her friends and the world around her, when she got older she started taking her camera with her to raves. Her analogue images were put on a small blog she started. Grout got noticed by taking pictures at shows and posting them on social media together with the appropriate tags. The artists she photographed would see her images and say ‘‘these are sick’’ and invite her to their next show.

    Grout did not intend to blow or to become the photographer she is now, at the time she was merely taking photographs for herself. The shows were often held at small venues that allowed her to interact with the MCs and make bonds by networking with her camera. Grout has said that, “I was fangirling really”.

    Now an integral feature of grime she has been at the forefront of what has been called the scene’s round two. A new age of artists has come through in the grime scene since the days of Ewan Spencer and Simon Wheatley, with his ice cream van portraits in 2002 of Roll Deep. Grout has often been associated with Spencer and Wheatley, the first documentarians on the scene.

    Grout’s weighty digital following and acclaim came about in 2014 with her halting portraits of Section Boyz. With her lens she has captured everyone from the young starters to the top boys and it is difficult to name a player from the UK scene Grout has not photographed, except Wiley.

    A regular feature at grime shows, Grout can be found snapping away and spitting every bar, applying the scene and its culture as a second skin. At a Section Boyz show there was a surprise appearance by Drake for which she was the only photographer on stage. It came as a massive surprise to her that he was there and she risked it all to get her shot by climbing onto a speaker.

    In 2014 she met Skepta for the first time who reposted some of the pictures she took of him on social media. The connection that she made there led to her being asked to do the behind the scene’s shoot for his music video “Shutdown” by filmmaker Grace Ladoja. She has also been featured as an expert in Grime photography documentation on BBC Radio1 and has shot Novelist for the cover of Viper.

    “I feel like if you’re not at the front then you’re not involved. Like, if you can’t feel the energy and the sweat on your face, then it’s not worth it. Go home. Do you know what I mean? You need to be in it. You need to be spitting every bar with them” – Vicky Grout.

     

  • Rodell Warner / Animating the everyday

    Trinidad and Tobago-born artist Rodell Warner situates his work in the space between digital and physical, making use of projections and gifs to animate the everyday. Greatly intrigued by his approach to art-making, we began a conversation that opened up the history behind the work, his influences and the phenomena of what was once described as the “poor image” by Hito Steyerl.

    Becoming an artist was something that Rodell could only say was the result of an accumulation of small decisions and collective coincidences. What began as a dissatisfaction with the fashion he could access throughout his high school years, led him to design and make his own t-shirts. Stencils and iron-transfers soon gave way to experimenting with Photoshop where he was no longer limited to stock-photos but could use his own photographs for his designs. It wasn’t all just fun and games though because before long, one thing led to another and he was able to use these skills to find work in advertising and as a graphic designer. Fortunately the advertising agency where he worked was a creative hot-pot and he was able to interact with many other creatives, as well as continuing to pursue his own art and he was even encouraged to take part in exhibitions and residencies. Despite enjoying his job in the advertising sector and being rewarded with more and more responsibility, Rodell couldn’t but help feeling that the trajectory he was on was taking him further and further away from his own practice.

    Darron Clarke by Rodell Warner and Arnaldo James

    As an artist there often comes a point where one has to choose between the day-job or the art career as both perhaps have become too big to sustain simultaneously, and while taking that plunge is not always easy, for Rodell Warner, it’s a decision he has never regretted taking. He also acknowledges the role that those experiences played in shaping the work he makes now; “Over time I created projects and collections of images with greater and greater awareness of what it means to make art, and that’s what I do full-time now.”

    Treating the image as an object has always been central to Rodell’s practice and therefore the projector became the ideal bridge between the digital and the physical. As he told me, “The projector also literally adds dimension to any image I’ve captured or created. The projected image exists in three dimensions, so images that existed previously only as 2D representations on-screen can be wrapped around objects and beamed all over the place.” This can especially be seen in his series First Light (2013) which played with projecting kaleidoscope-like forms onto the human body, highlighting the symmetry present in the human form, as well as distorting  and thus highlighting what we take for granted every day.

    The intriguing relationship between the virtual and the physical can especially be seen in the work produced for the BiWay Art Foundation group exhibition in 2015, where Rodell experimented with wrapping images onto virtual “3D” objects that would distort the appearance of the objects’ form. The result was a mesmerizing, gif-like rotating palm tree, covered with digital black and white dots, something that Rodell had noticed occurring when he exported bitmap images from Photoshop. Desiring to see what the effect of this sort of process on real “3D” objects would be, Rodell began projecting and painting these black and white patterns onto found objects, resulting in the incredibly dynamic body of work, T.M.C.N.E.C.i.a.D (The Most Corrupting Notion Ever Captured in a Dream, 2017). In this way, Rodell’s work has gone to the root of image production and circulation in our current day and age. Meditating on the space where the contemporary image exists Rodell commented; “When I think of this overlap between the digital and physical I love thinking about what happens when images are cycled over and over through digital and physical spaces via cameras, computers, projectors and printers. The outside and the inside have access to each other and become a circular path. Digital images can be projected or printed and re-photographed. Images of physical objects can be imported, augmented, and output to the real world again. Every pass from medium to medium produces effects, and effects can pile up and compound each other, create feedback, harmonies, and distortions, creating new entities unfamiliar to either the digital or physical space.” This sentiment we see reflected most notably by Hito Steyerl, an artist and theorist who published a now-famous essay titled “In Defense of the Poor Image,” in which she says; “The poor image is no longer about the real thing—the originary original. Instead, it is about its own real conditions of existence: about swarm circulation, digital dispersion, fractured and flexible temporalities. It is about defiance and appropriation just as it is about conformism and exploitation.” (2009)

    Hungry to continue exploring and creating, Rodell is currently working on a new photographic series, where he continues to combine projection with portraiture in innovative new ways. For exciting work in progress, his Instagram is where it’s at. Most recently, Rodell was commissioned to create Davidoff Art Initiative’s Limited Art Edition for 2017, which involves the artist travelling to Switzerland for this year’s annual Art Basel.

    First Light (2013)

     

    First Light (2013)

  • Blurring the lines between the public and the private, the global and the local

     

    The cultural construction of the “public” and the sayable in turn creates zones of privatised, inadmissible memory and experience that operates as spaces of social amnesia and anaesthesia.

    – Nadia Serematakis, in The Senses Still. 1994

     

    Opening on the 25th of May at Goodman Gallery Johannesburg and running until the 1st of July 2017, is an exhibition by internationally renowned Moroccan artist, mounir fatmi, titled Fragmented Memory. Not only does the presence of artworks in South Africa by an artist based between Tangier and Paris, speak to the blurring of the global and the local, but fatmi’s own practice revolves around these issues, expanding into other issues such as the fragmentation of cultural memory after colonialism, the complexities of a hybrid identity, the sometimes oppressive weight of religion and language – which are all themes that have resounding parallels for South African artists and others all over the world.

    Included in the show will be recent sculptures, reliefs, photographs and installations – including new work making its debut on the African continent. Goodman Gallery’s decision to show fatmi’s work in South Africa is to “facilitate a richer discourse on colonial histories in Africa and challenge the colonial construct of a Sub-Saharan Africa disconnected from its North African neighbours.” fatmi has been exhibited internationally, and to much critical acclaim, having most recently exhibited work at the 57th Venice Biennale at the NSK State-in-Time Pavilion.

    The Blind Man, 2015

    Three objects form the basis of Fragmented Memory; a copy of the Koran, a photograph of a Moroccan King, and a calligraphic painting. These are the only cultural objects that mounir fatmi remembers from his childhood home in 1970s Tangier – all of which he was forbidden to touch or were positioned out of reach, but which vividly captured his imagination. fatmi takes these objects as a starting point for his work ‘to show how the few elements of culture I had in my childhood home have shaped my artistic research, my aesthetic choices and my entire career,’ he says. fatmi adds that ‘through these objects, I draw a direct relationship to language, to memory, and to history in this show, because, for me, these three elements depend on one another: without language there is no memory and with no memory there is no history.’

    It is interesting to read this body of work in relation to the writings of anthropologist and author C. Nadia Seremetakis, who in her book The Senses Still (1994) highlights the importance of personal memory and narrative as constituting the sphere of potential alternative memory and temporality that combats the singular and encompassing narrative of modernism. Seremetakis says, “The split between public and private memory, the narrated and unnarrated, inadvertently reveals the extent to which everyday experience is organized around the reproduction of inattention, and therefore the extent to which a good deal of historical experience is relegated to forgetfulness.” In Fragmented Memory, mounir fatmi furthers uses his personal journey, in a sense mining his memories and digging past the forgetfulness, to comment on cultural memory and collective history – marking a rare autobiographical approach in his work. I am excited to see fatmi bring out these intimate memories into the public sphere and in turn challenge what we have regarded as defining moments within our own cultures and histories.

    Roots 01 – Triptych, 2016