Tag: photography

[wo]mannequin // a multimedia exhibition and social experiment

I interviewed artist Robyn Perros about her work [wo]mannequin on show at the new experimental gallery space The Other Room in Durban.

The exhibition includes two videos titled @Herr1234 and Don’t Look. In @Herr1234 we are introduced to the character Herr through the documentation of an experimental performance of the mute mannequin walking through Durban’s CBD as it tries to discover a sense of self. This performance explores the role the camera plays in distorting reality, our obsession with the body, self-promotion and gender identity as a performance. Don’t Look explores the ‘everyday’ perversions of society and the erotic feelings affirmed in image making. The participatory installation Worn sees used mannequins displayed on a wall. Audiences were invited to share comments, thoughts and drawings on these plastic bodies. The exhibition also includes photographic images mostly shot in analogue. In our interview Robyn expands on her work and the experimental elements in this exhibition.

Tell our readers about you and your art practice

When I moved to Durban in 2014, I spent most of my free time exploring the city in solitude. My weekends were spent walking, observing, listening (basically loitering). I suppose my ‘art’ developed out of this exploration. I told my friend, fellow artist and street photographer, Samora Chapman, about the places I was going. He said: “Fuck! You should be shooting!” He gave me his Dad’s old camera and I started making pictures.

I was into video during university, but had never explored photography much at all. Later I was given an old Pentax analogue camera from my step-father. I began experimenting with film and have never turned back. I love photographing inanimate objects, spaces in between and what it means to be human. My interest in participatory methods, anthroposophy, dreams also inform my art practice. Some of my influences: Nan Goldin, Martin Parr, Susan Sontag, Herman Hesse, Roald Dahl – but mostly my creative circle of friends.

(I never studied art or photography. My academic background is in Journalism and Ethnomusicology. But I have been working as a writer, photojournalist, and online editor in Durban for the past two years. I’m now freelancing / hustling for any form of income before I head to Sweden to live in my sister’s basement, work, study and join a bobsled team 😉

You describe [wo]mannequin as an “exhibition and experiment”. This is interesting. Would you like to elaborate on this?

I describe it as an exhibition for obvious reasons: I am displaying a set of physical works which people can come to a physical space and engage with. However my interest truly lies in public art, participation and process. So there are elements of this exhibition which are social experiments. These being two public performances (one done in the Durban CBD and one on the opening night of the exhibition by Herr) as well as a participatory installation, which is still growing.

One undertakes an experiment in order to make some sort of discovery. So what happens when you take a live walking mannequin and let it loose on the streets? What happens when you put it in a gallery space? Same object. Different context. Contrasting (yet some similar) outcomes. Any art conducted in the public space, is an experiment. Because ‘the other’ is any person or thing that is not me. Therefore, we can make assumptions, but can never really know how people are going to react. This is the magic.

I have been monitoring these reactions to Herr’s performances and the participatory installation in order to better understand my own art practice and ‘the other’. But of course, experiments rely on a repeatable procedure. And this is one which is ongoing with no fixed conclusions (or lab rats).

You also describe [wo]mannequin as a “continuing exploration and confrontation of the role my own political body, and the bodies of others, play within the carcass of South African society today”. Would you like to elaborate on this, specifically on confronting the role of your own political body and South African society as a carcass.

We are constantly watching ourselves. Yet isn’t it strange that we can never truly see our physical selves? That we are always looking at ourselves through some form of reflection – a mirror, a window, a photographic image, a screen. We have a physical body – it’s made up of the most intricate organs, oxygen, water, cells, DNA, etc. But of course we have a political body too. Where skin is not just cells. Where language is not just sound. Where clothes are not just fibers. Where the places we occupy are not just geography. What these signify to others, is political. It is this body that is socially controlled. It is this body we fixate on. And attempting to understand it, stripping it down and confronting it is important to me in order to build a more honest relationship with myself. And all humans, humanoids and living creatures alike.

Death is a huge theme in my work and I say carcass not to be gruesome, sensational or insensitive, but because death, as painful as it is, is a positive thing and it is not always physical. Old ideas need to die before new ones emerge. Death means life. But nothing truly dies anyway does it? Things just reform, take new shape. I think South Africa and the world is in an exciting reforming process. Despite my seemingly bleak subject matter of plastic people – I feel incredibly positive about the future of the country, the continent, the world, humanity et al.

You also see the mannequin as occupying the space between life and death, commodity and body, destruction and reconstruction of humanity and of self. Elaborate on the significance of this. I am particularly interested in the body/commodity dichotomy.

These are loaded concepts to unpack and “there are no short answers, not if you really want to know” (Paul Myburgh) 😉 But I think I touched the surface of what I mean about life and death / destruction and reconstruction in the question above. So I’ll try to focus on the body / commodity theme here. The perhaps more obvious themes this work unpacks is the use of the body, particularly the women’s body, to sell. Encouraging objectification and consumerism to which the woman / womxn often falls victim to.

I placed big neon pink FOR SALE // ON SPECIAL signs below all of my exhibition photographs. I don’t want to hide the fact that art is money. And I often wonder why art should be elevated from the perceived ‘low art’ of something like window dressing (the home of the mannequin). Mannequins are these silent salespeople, objects to play with, aspire to, to dress and undress. As a women, our bodies are constantly under question and scrutiny. As an artist today, we have had to become self-promotors – using our bodies to carry out and essentially sell our ideas, products and performances. If the work is a part of us, are we not selling ourselves? Meh, capitalism.

You also state that “this self-reflective multimedia exhibition essentially explores the remoteness of the real”. Would you like to elaborate on what you mean by this?

Looking at an event, or a person’s life, in photographed form has become more and more equivalent to participating in it. This obsession with documenting and preserving reality through photographs has, in one sense, doomed us. Distancing us from reality, it has inhibited us from engaging wholly in the world. Of course, the camera grants us access and assists us in seeing the world more acutely in another sense, I am not denying its importance and value. But is this concept of disconnect I am interrogating at the moment. How images can often simplify the chaos of lived experience. That is their beauty and their curse.

Mannequins themselves omit the real… nipples, pubic hair, bumps, pregnancy, varicose veins. (Where they at!?) Not to mention the predominant white plastic they are made of, what that omits and how problematic that in itself is in reflecting “reality”! Colonialism // whitewashing.

I often feel like these plastic dolls. Staring out through the glass of privilege, the cage of physicality - watching life happen around me, unable to partake in it, to run with it. It is this yearning for slowing down, for real human encounters, real human connection that moves me. In a sense, the mannequins were the best portraits of humans I could capture without pointing a camera at others. The best self-portraits I could capture without pointing a camera at myself. In a world governed by material objects, it would seem appropriate to express humanity through them.

Would you like to say something specific about Herr and this character featuring in the video @Herr1234?

The concept of Herr developed from the often unwanted attention my solitude gets in the city. The place of my political body in the city is often suspected and questioned. I have often been followed, asked if I am a prostitute, homeless, a Whoonga addict, a preacher of the gospel, or just a lost German tourist. To which I usually just reply, “No. I am just walking.” From a young age, women in particular are taught to guard their bodies, to not get hurt, to watch rather than participate. This I think is learned behaviour and of course yes, we must protect ourselves and others, but I often think this fear of physical harm holds women back more than it should.

My presence is often perplexing in places that are “not safe for a woman” and I developed this character, Herr, who is supposed to be a living mannequin in order to amplify this solitude into hyper-solitude. By drawing attention to my vulnerability and using it as a source of power. She owns the space in which I would ordinarily be trying to blend into or hide behind, using the camera.

The character, Herr, simultaneously developed from my ‘uneasiness’ with self-promotion as an artist. From the persona I project online via social media and the pressure that arises from that. I use Herr to explore societies ‘uneasiness’ with blurred gender lines // gender as performance // subject as object // self-promotion // and the limitations of the body in complex public spaces. She is a developing character / public performer and we have big plans.

Are there any specific artworks or moments at the exhibition opening you would like to mention?

On the opening night Herr was sitting alone in the centre of the room on a plastic chair. Mute, still, watching its own reflection and the activity of those in the space via a set of mirrors. Here, Herr was the spectacle of its own exhibition. Yet it was an object without agency. Internalizing the gaze of ‘the other’.

It was interesting for me to witness the performance of socializing happening around me without having to participate in it. This is often what the camera in itself does – it magnetizes attention. Yet at the same time – confirms alienation. It is this border I am constantly on the verge on in my own personal life. The border between participant and observer. Awake and sleep.

Artists themselves are often so self-conscious and self-aware. And in this way I was able to experience my own work more intimately by being a character within it. I would have felt like a mannequin anyway at my own exhibition, so in a sense I was revealing this vulnerability of the artist. The idea of concealing myself in order to reveal myself.

To witness how people altered their behavior and became conscious of their own physical bodies knowing there was a presence in the room, watching them, like a camera, was also an interesting dynamic. Mostly, people in the space spoke about themselves – what they looked like, what they felt, what their experiences were – rather than the work and the obvious presence in the room. Narcissism – another big theme.

Here, I was inviting people to look at me, to touch me, to engage with me / Herr. But this didn’t really happen in the gallery room. But it happened on the streets. Therefore, the gallery is the safest and most dangerous place for art, isn’t it?

Would you like to say something about showing this work at The Other Room Durban?

The Other Room is a space for artists / thinkers / creators / whoever to explore new work, test ideas, throw something out there. It is so necessary for a space like this to exist and I am so proud and priveleged to have shared my work there. [Wo]mannequin is the third experiment / exhibition to be held at The Other Room, ahead of the brilliant minds of Donovan Orr and Doung Anwar Jahangeer.

The Other Room is the baby of Matthew Ovendale, a phenomenal artist, mind and dear friend. I did not study art or photography, but I have tons of projects and ideas I’m exploring all the time. Matt knew I had been photographing mannequins and invited me to share some of my work. My exhibition grew and changed over the course of a month and Matt assisted me throughout the whole process. We explored new mediums together, such as working with chemical plastics to make an actual plastic mold and mask of my own face. He was as excited about the project, as if it were his own.

I probably would never have gotten around to sharing and delving into this work the way I did without the space and support. The Other Room such a kif spot for people to get together, share, talk and engage with one another’s work. A step in the right direction. I was able to collaborate with so many incredible people on this project because of it and I can’t thank them enough.

To check out more of Robyn’s work visit her Tumblr.

17 May 2017
ZIBAYO – capturing transient moments

I interviewed Valentino Zondi and Lilli Bagradyans who make up the creative duo ZIBAYO.

Durban-born Valentino solidified his call for creative expression when he attended film school, which has contributed to his current work as a photographer and art director. Through trial and error he now finds himself in possession of a CV with work for some of the coolest brands and a few awards. Lilli has found her creative expression within the triangle of architecture, art and music. Having grown up in Germany and being of Armenian origin, she described South Africa as providing a turning point in her creative journey. Having found each other while Lilli was working on an urban project in South Africa, she describes their joint artistic endeavors as reminders of who she is.

Valentino explained that the name ZIBAYO stands for transience. “Everything is transient,” he adds, “moments, encounters, experiences. Everything is transient besides the art we create.”. Through their work they try to conserve the momentary occurrences they experience and witness around them.

Exhibition in Munich

Together they intend to create a new space for art by combining their differences. “We come from nations which have been divided by differences in religion and race. We feel it is our responsibility to usher in a new way of looking at our differences as human beings, the idea of a black man and a white woman working together as a duo is foreign to some minds. It is in that space that we want to create, in a space that confronts and questions our basic frame of thinking,” Valentino explains.

Their joint art practice involves Lilli transforming an element of photographs taken by Valentino into a painting. “We go back [to where the photograph was taken] with the painted element to reframe it into a situation that is identical to the original captured image. In the reframing, the painting is given new life in a newly shot photograph,” Valentino explains. This is all done without the use of post production editing platforms.

Their first series of exhibitions titled HIDDEN IDENTITIES looks at the aftermath of gentrification in parts of Johannesburg. Exploring the lives of the people who once occupied the streets where they are no longer welcome, the first chapter of this series of exhibitions took place in Maboneng where the streets were used as an exhibition space. “This gave the individuals [who were photographed] a chance to see themselves…In our conversations with them when we were creating this body of work, most of them expressed feelings of being isolated and secluded from Maboneng…By exhibiting in the streets of Maboneng and inviting them, we closed that void of being excluded,” Valentino explained.

HIDDEN IDENTITIES then went to London and was presented at the Armenian Symposium: Armenians in a Global Context in April. In London they built the bridge between HIDDEN IDENTITIES and their next project which is going to be produced in Armenia later this year. They then moved on to exhibit at Kosk Gallery in Munich alongside sculptor Max Boström’s project, EXIT THROUGH CONSUMPTION. The exhibition is moving to Rome, and will make its final appearance in Johannesburg again. “We will be adding a few more pieces in the collection. That is how we do it for every city. So when it returns to Johannesburg, it will have more work than when we left.”.

Lilli and Valentino have got plans to expand their joint creative practice by releasing a fashion project that will include photographs taken from different places in Africa.

Check out ZIBAYO on Facebook and Instagram to keep up with their work.

9 May 2017
Unpacking feelings of displacement

I interviewed photographers Nobukho Nqaba, Thandiwe Msebenzi and Sitaara Stodel about their upcoming exhibition, Displacement.

Having met while studying at Michaelis School of Fine Art at UCT and being exposed to each other’s individual creative practices, being awarded the Tierney fellowship solidified their desire to thread together the similarities in their work.

They each create work based on their own experiences, with their art practices providing an avenue for reflection, questioning and unraveling. Sitaara’s current work revolves around the themes of home, identity, memory and exploring the subconscious. Nobukho prefers not to box her work into fixed themes, but has created work that focuses on migrant life, movement and otherness, and has recently made a body of work about mourning, letting go and “finding my own self”. Thandiwe’s recent work addresses rape culture and the silencing of womxn in places of comfort.

The title of their exhibition refers to displacement both figuratively and literally, and the impact that comes from feeling out of place. “We talk about issues of being lost and this loss comes from being in spaces that are not permanently ours. These are often spaces that are supposed to provide comfort and those spaces include the home,” Nobukho explained. Their work addresses how in these places of comfort issues of power arise and manifested through enactments of particular understandings of masculinity in relation to the female presence. “We felt that we need to have this collective voice and bring about this educational exhibition to bring issues around movement, otherness and displacement to the fore,” Nobukho explained.

A House is Not a Home, 1 – Sitaara Stodel

In Sitaara’s series of works titled Suburban Dream she uses photography as a “tool for suspension of belief”. In her work A House Not A Home, 1 Sitaara uses collage and photography to create the illusion of looking at a landscape of houses. However upon closer inspection the viewer notices that it is in fact a small set with cut outs of images of different houses, lit up to look like middle class suburbia at night. This brings into question the understanding of photography as a form of documentation that reveals ‘the truth’. Sitaara also explains that this work is part of her exploration of her memories of constantly having to move with her mother and sisters as a result of being evicted from middle class houses they could not afford. “This photographic series is almost like looking at all of the homes I lived in and the cross-over of memories that I have with these houses,” she explains. The theme ‘eviction’ is used in her work as an “echo” to her own experiences of growing up but also speaks to South Africa’s history of evictions, which has a large influence on her feelings around the importance of unpacking feelings of displacement. “All of us being woman of colour, I feel that we have an understanding of how people treat us differently, struggling to feel like we have a ‘place’ – a place in South Africa, a place in the art world, a place to exist safely etc.”.

Ndiyayekelela Undibizela kuwe IV – Nobukho Nqaba

Nobukho uses photography to document her performativity. “I perform and document what I do and the final work becomes the photograph of the actual performance,” she explains further. In her current body of work displacement happens as the result of a state of mind because of longing for her father who has passed on. “At the same time I am fighting certain emotions that hold me back and I use material that is reminiscent of a migrant and a miner which speaks a lot about the history of [migrant life] in South Africa. I use my own female body to fight a male presence that is haunting me both in a good way and in a bad way”. The materials that she uses contain the narrative of being displaced from a place of familiarity for her father who worked on the mines. Nobukho wraps herself with these materials, “often burdening myself with an absence that is continuously present in my mind and also trying to let go but finding it difficult because I am my father’s child.”.

“indawo yam”- my place – Thandiwe Msebenzi

Thandiwe has two works on show that dissect displacement. A photograph of her standing on a ladder carrying a man’s blazer in her hand titled “kwawze kubenini”- for how long reflects on the question “how long will I have to climb ladders as a woman to be seen?”. This works unpacks the sense of displacement womxn feel when trying to exist in anti-feminine spaces. In the work “indawo yam”- my place Thandiwe is photographed sitting on a small hill covering herself with a lace curtain, creating her own place of safety.

Thandiwe expressed the importance of this exhibition outside of the themes that they unpack. She highlighted the difficulty in finding womxn photographers of colour as references or sources of inspiration in the library besides the work of Zanele Muholi. “It becomes important to have this exhibition because we are all individual photographers working in a variety of creative and exciting ways,” she expressed. Thandiwe added that they thinking about working on an idea after the exhibition in the spirit of opening up a space for womxn photographers of colour, and creating an archive. So watch this space!

Displacement will open on the 4th of May at 99 Loop Gallery in Cape Town.

Dreamscape – Sitaara Stodel

“kwawze kubenini”- for how long – Thandiwe Msebenzi

26 April 2017
Hanneke van Leeuwen // A sculptural approach to photography

I had a conversation with Dutch photographer Hanneke van Leeuwen about her work and the time she spent visiting Johannesburg.

Growing up with a mother who is a sculptor, Hanneke always knew she was going to take on some kind of creative practice. When she was 15 she received her first analogue camera as a gift from her mother, and began shooting portraits of her friends and other parts of her everyday life. She converted part of her room into a dark room to be able to develop the images herself. From these images she put together a portfolio and went to art school.

Unsure of how to move forward with her passion after school, Hanneke began assisting other photographers which allowed her to fulfill her love for travelling. Five years ago she met photographer Viviane Sassen and was given the opportunity to become her first assistant. She expressed with gratitude that working with Viviane has helped her push passed the initial creative barrier she faced and has enabled her to find a direction for her own work.

For Hanneke photography is like telling a story in short lines, like a poem. In explaining how she lets these stories unfolds she stated that, “I don’t think of a concept before I take them [photographs]. I just create them in the camera or afterwards in collages.”. Taking influence from her mother’s way of looking at human bodies, Hanneke creates her photographs in a sculptural way. With 20th century Surrealism as another point of reference, she constructs collages with her photographs, allowing her work to transcend the 2D surface. “I love the texture of skin. I love the texture of fabric, of the paper,” Hanneke expressed. The viewer is able to see the tape she uses the piece her collages together, creating more layers.

She enjoys working collaboratively with other artists. “I want to share things. I want to create with other people,” she expresses. With a desire for creatives to help each other more, Hanneke was encouraged by the collaborative energy that she witnessed while spending time in Johannesburg. “It is so special that people here are aware of their backgrounds and they can create something together.”.

Among other things Hanneke is going to be working with Parisian artist Caroline Denervaud on a collaborative project that will be coming out in May/June.

To check out more of Hanneke’s work look her up on Instagram or on her website.

24 April 2017
The Lesser-known Girls of Jozi

You meet interesting people everywhere. Some of the most intriguing womxn I have come across come from Johannesburg. It is with them, through taking their images, that I found raw beauty and authenticity. Here is a look at three lesser-known females.

Tash Brown

My first interactions with Tash were over social media after she had commented on some photography I did with her friends. I loved how sassy, witty and original her thoughts were. As we progressed to PM messaging she asked me to start a Burn Book with her over a cup of tea. I enjoyed this sassy film reference to the 00’s teen film Mean Girls directed by Mark Waters.

I met up with Tash on a Sunday morning at her home to photograph her. As I entered the door her mother offered me a cup of tea while she was busy preparing food in the green colored kitchen.

After my warm cup of tea was prepared, Tash and I moved to her room to select outfits for our shoot. We started working in her room and moved to the garden where I photographed her blending in with the greenery. We progressed to the spare room of the house where Tash pushed herself up against the window and hid behind the side curtain. Tash changed from her vintage floral shirt to a bralette and panties. It was amazing for me to see how comfortable Tash is with her body.

Tash is the kind of girl who can send you a perfectly articulated voice note while brushing her teeth. She changes her hair color sporadically this is done during bonding sessions with her boyfriend. She calls it “messing with her identity”. Her personality can only be described as vibrant. Everything about Tash is fascinating, from the way that she dresses in pale yellow thrift store dresses to the way that she speaks and the way that she paints. Tash even tap dances. She is currently a third year Fine Arts student at the University of the Witwatersrand and is inspired by artists like Tracey Rose, Dineo Bopape and Ryan Trecartin. Growing up with a mother who is an artist, Tash found her love for art as a child.

Tash describes her work as slipping between fantasy and tragedy. Her practice brings that which is hidden to the surface. The aesthetic value of her work is pink and over-stimulating which brings out the grotesqueness of her style. She relies on kitsch to symbolize the bad taste underlying in pop culture and the imagination. Her created fantasy becomes overbearing at times.

Her work strokes childhood innocence that is tainted. She relies on a balance of intimacy and isolation, depicting violence in a beautiful scene. Her work does not have a single message but holds on to a suggestive idea. Tash says in her artist’s statement that “A face doesn’t want to look like a face”. Have a look at her creations online.

Karen Du Bois

I first met Karen towards the end of last year when she started dating my best friend John. Initially I didn’t know what to make of her, as she was not very talkative. As time passed I got to know her, and her openness revealed itself. She can often be caught walking around singing to herself, as if she is creating a sound track to her day-to-day life. This is what I enjoy most about her.

I spent an evening at John’s place and the next morning I spontaneously decided to shoot Karen because I had my camera on me from a shoot the previous day. I applied some M.A.C Retro Matte lip colour on her full-formed lips and asked her to get into the tub with a white Adidas tee shirt.

As soon as Karen got into the water she immediately went into model mode and transformed from the quiet, pretty girl I had got to know. She was alive, embracing her womanhood and beauty. She was on fire, in her element and comfortable in her surroundings. Looking over my images the magnetism of her eyes is what grabbed me.

Karen has a beautifully raw yet soft childlike voice that echoes pure talent. She has recently completed her BCom Accounting at the University of Johannesburg. Her main focus right now is on making music, taking inspiration comes from Rihanna, A$APRocky, The Pixies and Amy Winehouse. She describes herself as experimenting with her limitations and has recently formed a band called The Black Panties with musician John Shepherd. She found her calling as a vocalist at church and was a part of the school choir growing up. The Black Panties’ musical style can be defined as edgy, and sometimes eerie, and falls within the death trap genre.

Give them a listen on soundcloud.

Rosa Elk

I met Rosa for the first time at a picnic in the Johannesburg Botanical Gardens when she was about 16 years old. From my first interaction with her, I was intrigued by how academically sound she was. Her knowledge on world history surpassed her age.

Meeting up with Rosa again years later was everything I thought it would be. As she walked up to my car to greet me she had a little dust on her because she had been working with archival material from the Wits Art Museum. Entering her room I saw a beautiful collection of artworks, and in her closet carefully hand-picked designer items that were minimal, striking and beautiful. While Rosa was selecting her wardrobe for our shoot I perused the titles of her books. All in mint condition, with titles such as On Photography by Susan Sontag.

Photographing Rosa was an interesting experience. We moved from her bedroom, that I felt said so much about her personality and attention to detail, to her garden that looks like a miniature version of the botanical garden where we first met. I was confronted the wildness of her garden and, as per usual not dressed for the occasion. I was climbing rocks in sandals in order to get the right angles for the shots.

Rosa has a spunkiness about her that I find refreshing. We brushed over many topics while shooting but the one that stuck out for me was our conversation about how children perceive the world. She mentioned that her younger cousin calls her garden “the jungle”. We indulged ourselves all afternoon with interesting conversations, an amazing collection of books and a cat called Madeline, flying up and down the scene of the shoot trying to catch tiny insects only she took notice of.

Rosa has a passion for art and although she can’t be considered a Fine Artist, she sure knows how to write about it. She has a BA degree in English and History of Art from the University of the Witwatersrand. Rosa can be found drinking cups of tea, reading books or crocheting. Her favorite artist is Lady Skollie. She loves collecting South African jewelry and is building an art collection that consists of student artist pieces.

7 April 2017
Slomokazi’s celebration of self

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.

Ezulwini

3 April 2017
Images for the words you cannot find: An interview with photographer Kelly Makropoulos

I got to know photographer Kelly Makropoulos in an interview about her creative process and what she is working on at the moment.

Tell our readers about how you got into photography.

When I was twelve years old, my family and I visited Lake Kariba, the world’s largest human-made lake along the border between Zambia and Zimbabwe. I remember seeing the dead trees that pierced through the water as we travelled on the dam; it was as though we were venturing across a desert of water. I was enthralled by the scene, so borrowing my mother’s camera, I aimed the lens to the trees and the glistening water and filled the 100-odd megabyte card to the brim.

What are the kinds of themes you like to work with?

One theme I like to support is feminism: so uplifting and respecting feminine energy. I did a series allied with Free the Nipple, where I was taking images of female friends topless in public spaces with expressions and postures that were either untroubled or defiant. It’s the reality we live in that says femininity and power cannot go hand in hand, so I want to draw attention to the fact that it most certainly can.

Tell our readers about your creative process.

I like to focus on simplicity in my work, so the content in the image has one bold element with accompanying features and textures. I’m inspired by powerful feminine energies like Lady Skollie who push the envelope on feminine sexuality, removing the taboo. Tony Gum turns the camera on herself, and I think that’s exciting. Photographic self-portraiture is thrilling because you can embody your vision completely. I create by doing. Meaning I work with the tools I have at my disposal, allowing for the subject and I to have a conversation, as well as drawing on the many varying elements of any particular shoot.

What are some of the projects you have been a part of?

I’m currently part of ongoing collaborative project with Ben Moyo called ‘The Kenjis’. Ben is a Zimbabwean born photographer and stylist, who is also known as The Chocolate Brother. Starting off with merely an iPhone, his work reflects a passion rarely seen. He uses his work to create digital content for various clients. Having recently made the leap from Cape Town to Johannesburg, Ben is falling in love again with the booming street-style photography in the area.Having been big fans of each other’s work, it seemed natural to collaborate intimately on a joint project. Thus, The Kenjis was born. We’d like to see our work as a storytelling experience. As we both style and creatively direct our shoots, the mixture becomes a new vision which is a part of us, as well as a third party in a way. We’d like to get more into creating non-gendered shoots, as we did with our first shoot that can be seen on our Instagram. We feel it’s highly important to break destroy stereotypes that society chains us to. For now, we are working on our individual projects as Ben is in Johannesburg and I am in Cape Town. I have also worked on other collaborative projects with a few other artists.

Is there a particular aesthetic you are inspired by or try to create in your images?

My aesthetic changes from project to project. I try to achieve varying aesthetics. When I find myself becoming satiated, I move onto the next. I wouldn’t say my style is in any sort of box. Different aesthetics I’ve worked on would be bright colored images, particularly the combination of warm and cool tones I adore. I also love capturing shadows on skin as I feel it’s quite dramatic. Black and white photography I’m also into at times when that mellow mood strikes me.

What is the vision you have for yourself as a photographer?

I’m not entirely sure what my vision is – I don’t even know what I’m up to in the next two weeks, but I know I’m buying more film.

What are you working on at the moment? What can we expect from you this year?

I’m working towards another solo exhibition, as well as a few group shows. My upcoming solo exhibition has not had a date or venue set for it as of yet, but I’m working towards making it completely film-based and further moving away from the gender binary construct.

I’m planning on travelling to Europe for their summer, and working with some artists there. I also plan to take more film photos, as it makes me prudent of what I shoot; it pushes me to wait for the right moment.

Anything else you would like to mention about you or your work?

I identify as gender queer. It’s an undercurrent in my actions, including photography. From my eyes my images show a deep mix between feminine and masculine characteristics. Although I still lean towards the divinity of femininity.

I’ve never been any good at putting my emotions into words. This used to make me quite uncomfortable, until a close friend of mine told me they thought in emotions and images, rather than in words. Since then I’ve tried to achieve this sentiment with my photography.

Check out more of Kelly’s work on Instagram.

28 March 2017
Photographer Carl David Jones on the art of image making

I had a conversation with photography magician Carl David Jones about his journey as a photographer and what he has planned for his work this year.

Having planted the seed for his passion in photography during his time in university, Carl went to Seoul to teach English after confessing that his degree in engineering did not excite him much. While in Seoul he started the street style blog, SOL-SOL Street, and this is when the vision of himself as a professional photographer began to take shape. When he started the blog in 2013, Seoul was still a relatively new city for him. Walking through the streets Carl was fascinated by the how well people dressed, and started photographing people every day. “As I travelled to Hong Kong or South Africa I would take my camera with me, asking people wherever I was if I could photograph them. It first started as Korean street style but now it’s wherever I have been,” Carl explained. He met up with a well-known Korean photographer and worked as his apprentice for about a year before spreading his own wings.

Carl’s most recent obsession over the last few months has been experimenting with 35mm film, with the aim of grooming himself into a film photographer. When discussing where this new obsession came from Carl explained that he prefers the head space he has to be in while working with film. “I just felt like people weren’t making images anymore. They were just clicking away and burning through those digital images and not really concentrating on making a picture. With film, you can’t see what you are getting. It’s very limiting. You have to concentrate and get into the zone of making the picture,” Carl explained. His new love for film ties into the low-fi, gritty feel he creates in his images. “I like taking an image for what it is and a location for what it is,” he explained.

Another new adventure of his is creating 3D gifs using a film camera from the 80s, which he received as a gift from his roommate in Seoul. “The camera has four lenses, so it takes one photo from 4 perspectives. When you get the film developed, you make the gif,” Carl explained. He has incorporated this into the shoots where he works with film. “The 3D gifs can give another perspective to the story,” Carl explained.

At the end of this month Carl will be travelling to Bali and then Hong Kong where he will be meeting up with people for a small project he is working on. The results of the project should be dropping in May. He is also planning on taking SOL-SOL Street in a new direction this year. Keep an eye out for these new developments. Carl is currently not represented in SA.

You can check out more of his work on his website.

21 March 2017
Flipping the Lens with Fausto Becatti and The Bioscope’s Camera Club

Last week, The Bioscope Theatre, in collaboration with The College of Digital Photography, hosted its second installment of The Camera Club. The talk series aims both to showcase and inspire up-and-coming photographers, through intimate discussions between artists and audiences. In dialogue with a series of images, photographers unmask stories from the other side of the lens. It’s an account of the creative minutia: the seconds before the light hit that spot, the happenings outside the frame, the moments before a subject looked up at the lens just so.

This week showcased Johannesburg director and photographer, Fausto Becatti. Many will know his work from the Hunters Dry advert, ‘Global Love’, which featured artist AKA and was shot in multiple locations throughout the world. Becatti has also directed music videos, including Spoek Mathambo’s ‘Awufuni’, and more recently Alice Phoebe Lowe’s ‘Society’.

When describing the making of ‘Society’, Becatti articulates a rare moment of untampered creative freedom. It was as though he was adding motion to his stills: his photographic eye brought to the video image. It’s an example, he told us, of the ways in which creative practices feed one another. In developing his artistic identity, Becatti has discovered a seeping of one creative life into the next. A book, in dialogue with a drawing, in dialogue with music, in dialogue with an image.

Another piece of wisdom, drawn from Becatti’s creative practice, is to photograph daily. He speaks about his stylistic growth as a matter of habit: forcing himself to capture one image every day and upload it to Instagram, regardless of whether he deemed it perfect or not. Embedded in this practice has been a mantra to ‘do’ and ‘not think’. Indeed, in articulating how he works, Becatti seemed to be describing a meditative process, in which he learnt to set aside all preconceptions about ‘the good photo’. His own aesthetic expectations, as well as those of others, were presented as the biggest obstacle to his photography, which sought to move, uninhibited, with his inner intuition. “Honesty is original”, he told us.

Initially, Becatti found himself regularly photographing his subjects from behind, alone, in moments of reflection. It was a compositional pattern that developed organically, born of his intention to capture candid moments of stillness, when people were unaware they are being watched. More recently, he has been drawn to images with a story: the sort of shots that prompt viewers to ask questions about the scenes depicted, or to speculate about the lives and relationships of the subjects. Having travelled extensively around the world (the US, Germany, India, Mauritius, Japan, the UK), Becatti’s images also tell a human story — both of diversity and connection. It’s ordinary people, captured cinematically, with enough depth and colour, to reveal their (and our) extraordinariness.

Stay tuned for the next Camera Club. It offers a rare glimpse into a photographer’s worldview, through the people, colours, places, and juxtapositions that capture their attention. These conversations not only allow us to explore an image, beyond what is captured in the frame. They also shatter the boundaries between artist and audience, which so often inhibit us from making our first creative move.

20 March 2017
“Thinking about a space that is thinking about someplace else” – Interview with Simon Gush

Over the past few years artist Simon Gush has been thinking through how ideas about labour are constructed, as well as how labour is a factor which affects how people construct ideas about themselves and society as a whole. I interviewed him about his latest solo exhibition The Island showing at the Stevenson in Johannesburg which continues this theme.

How do you describe your work and your creative process?

The major part of my production over the last few years has been thinking around the problem of work. Not the problems of specific workplaces or jobs, but the central role work plays in society and the manner in which it affects how we think of ourselves. In particular, I am critical of the moralising of work. Ideas that: ‘Work makes us better,’ or “Hard work is good for you,’ are common inanities that circulate, which I take issue with. This has led me to look at histories of labour movements and the concepts of the work ethic. Specifically, my work has dealt with subjects like public representations of labour, the concept of laziness, strikes, the history of worker migration and resistance to work.

I work mainly in the form of essays, video and photography, moving between images and text. I find that I am able to approach my material differently by using both writing and image, each of which have particular ways of thinking. I am able to do more work at their intersection. When I finish a film or an essay, I find that there are questions that I could not answer in the piece. There is only so much I can do in one work. The unanswered questions then become the starting point for the next project. My essays are written and produced from my personal perspective, comprised of thoughts and anecdotes from my working life, intermingled with research around work; historical, political and ideological. It is important for me to place myself within my work.

Can you give some background on your exhibitions ‘Workplace’ (2015) and ‘Work’ (2013)? How is ‘The Island’ a continuation of or addition to the themes you looked at in these exhibitions?

‘Work’ and ‘Workplace,’ were centred around questions of work ethic and the moralising of work. The artworks that made up these exhibitions began to identify the way work is constructed in our society, the ideological aspect of work. I was conscious that, while there is a dominant idea of work, a colonial construct, society is never homogeneous. I started to realise that, in order to understand a place like Johannesburg, you can’t only look at the place itself. As this is a city built on migrant labour, I needed to start to investigate other places that have historically impacted on how work is formed here, especially those from which workers were sent.

‘Workplace’ was the first product of this research and took the form of a photographic essay about Mozambique. It tried to deal with the history of movement between here and Maputo. Not just by workers, but by disparate people, from the Voortrekkers to ANC exiles during apartheid. ‘The Island’ is a more in-depth look at the effects of systematic labour migration on the relationship between South Africa and Lesotho. Lesotho and Mozambique were historically the largest suppliers of migrant labour to the mines.

Workwear factory shopfloor, Thetsane industrial area, Maseru

Tell our readers about your exhibition ‘The Island’?

‘The Island’ is centered around two major works, the eponymous photographic series, ‘The Island,’ and a new film essay, ‘Invasion.’ ‘The Island’ attempts to see Lesotho beyond the image of migrant labour. I started by looking at the sites of work within Lesotho; the factories, municipal offices, mines and so on. While I was doing this, I was thinking about the fact that the ANC used to call Lesotho “the island,” during the anti-apartheid struggle. This gave me the metaphor from which to start to differentiate Lesotho from South Africa, which surrounds it. The idea of the island also provided a way of thinking about how the forms of dependence and relationships between the two countries might be better understood. I was drawn to how the sea (in this case South Africa) serves as a resource for the island and an integral part of its economy and ecology.

Looking at these connections led me to research the Katse Dam, which provides water to Gauteng. I was interested in the invasion that happened in 1998, when South Africa entered Lesotho, on behalf of SADC, to stop protests around elections that had taken place there. I found out that, during this occupation, the SADC bombarded the Lesotho Defence Force base at Katse Dam. Six months earlier, Lesotho’s water had first begun to flow to South Africa. Because of this, the attack on the base didn’t make sense; except as a power play around the water. The military justification seemed tenuous. While researching this, I met an eyewitness to the attack. The film re-enacts two interviews I did with this witness. I had made an agreement with him to keep his testimony anonymous, hence the re-enactment, but it was also a way to make visible how histories are reconstructed and told. The re-enactments were done with the actor Phillip Dikotla.

Textile factory rest area, Thetsane industrial area, Maseru

Expand on your comment ‘thinking about a space that is thinking about someplace else’ relating to movement of people and resources between countries?

Around sixty percent of Lesotho’s population works in South Africa and will only return in December for the holidays. With the exception of the civil services, most of the formal jobs that are there are somehow connected to elsewhere. The factories are foreign-owned and the products are sold elsewhere. The diamonds from the mines are taken elsewhere to be cut and sold. There seems to be a sense of the displacement that pervades the space. This makes it a place that I had to keep thinking of, not in fixed terms, but according to flows, in and out of the country. This is, of course, true of other countries, but in Lesotho it is very present. It is a place that is hard to tie down. I like this idea as way to think about the local without the rhetoric of nationalism.

Why the focus on Lesotho?

The project started when I was by invited Lerato Bereng, (a South African based Basotho curator) to come to Maseru to do some research. She thought that I would be interested in the way in which flows of labour become visible there. At the same time, I had just visited Maputo. I had a feeling that the presence of the history that connects Mozambique with South Africa was something I wanted to speak to. In the beginning, I thought I would include other countries in the region that also have these links to Johannesburg and South Africa, and are similarly defined by labour, but it was too much for me to take on. It takes time to get a feel for the place and to start to see and understand the aspects that are of interest to the project, which not always immediately available. I have been working on this project for 3 years now and I am only just starting to feel like get some of what is going in the places I have visited.

The Island will be on show until 7 April.

Ministry of Social Development storeroom, central business district, Maseru

17 March 2017
Danielle O’Neill – the camera as a tool and a weapon

I had a conversation with young photographer Danielle O’Neill about her views on the power of the lens and a collaborative project she did titled Las Brujas.

“I’m really interested in how photography looks at looking, and looks at the way we preserve our ways of looking,” Danielle explains when discussing her love for the camera. This anthropological approach to her practice allows her to see the photograph as problematic in that it can encourage self-policing and inaccurate preservations. However, she also highlights the potentiality for the camera to be a tool and a weapon that works to make denied bodies and identities visible – it opens up a space to interrogate the gaze.

“When you wake up in the morning and you are feeling really good and you turn on your phone camera and take a selfie, there is a reason why are feeling the reason need to preserve that moment. There is particular identity in that moment in time that you are wanting to preserve, whether it be for yourself, or for a post. That’s how we live and it’s important to recognize that,” Danielle expresses. For her, photography can transform, repackage and recapture identity. It is also one of the visual mediums that speaks to access – “bodies, words and minds can be made visible”.

Stemming from this approach and understanding of photography, Danielle shared with me her thinking behind the project Las Brujas. Taking inspiration from Nina Simone’s song Four Women which is centred around breaking down the stereotypes attributed to Black women through popular culture, Danielle explains that she was inspired to collaborate with other womxn to bring to life a piece representing black and brown womxn & femmes outside of the exhausted imaginings of our bodies. She worked with creatives Lihle Ngcobozi, Rafe Green, Upile Bongco, Wairimu Muriithi, Kirsten Afrika, Georgina Graaff Makhubele, Thathi Mashike, Mosa Anita Kaiser and Michelle Mosalakae to put this project together.

La bruja is directly translated to mean ‘witch’. This was an interesting starting point, as Danielle was trying to look at the historical placement of the witch, and how it is an image that has continuously followed female identity. She explains that in some Afro-Latino cultures bruja is a space of sisterly communication and is a term of endearment among women. It is a term that is associated with sisterly and matriarchal showing of affection. She wanted to look at the witch outside of white, Western, patriarchal, historical narratives that have been placed on black and brown womxn and contemporary ideas of womanhood and femxle sexuality.

To check out more of her work follow her on Instagram.

8 March 2017
Self-discovery through imagery – ‘Plastic Crowns’ exhibition by photographer Phumzile Khanyile

Young photographer Phumzile Khanyile is showing her first solo exhibition titled Plastic Crowns at the Market Photo Workshop gallery in Johannesburg.

“Plastic Crowns is a journey of self-discovery,” Phumzile explained, “As a photographer I think the vision is more important than the equipment. I believe that when making a body of work there is nothing more important than honesty”. This guided her decision to include herself in her images. Using her personal experiences as a backdrop for larger conversations, the self-portraits in her exhibition try to unpack the expectations she carried from her grandmother around what it means to be a woman. This was the entry point for her to address the ways in which women’s bodies are closely monitored with regards to how we choose to present ourselves. “I wanted to figure out for myself what being female is,” Phumzile explained.

© Phumzile Khanyile, Plastic Crowns, 2016

Choosing sexuality as the focal point, she uses symbols to talk back to these expectations. Balloons scattered on the gallery floor and featured in her photographs represent different sexual partners. Through this she speaks back to ideas around promiscuity, stating that she views having multiple partners as a choice and not a reflection on lack of morals. Given that these expectations and teachings come from how she grew up, her images play with understandings of family photographs by turning the idea of the family photo album on its head through telling the story of what happens after the idealized family photograph has been taken, and producing images that are not often seen in albums because they highlight flaws within the familial structure. During our conversation Phumzile pointed to a photograph of her standing next to a black coat hanging from the handles of a cupboard door. In the image she links arms with the coat, as if she was linking arms with another person. She explains that this particular photograph refers to the absence of her father. “It was really important for me to create this because I have lost all of my family albums at home. I wanted to create the feeling of something that is familiar.”.

© Phumzile Khanyile, Plastic Crowns, 2016

To create the feeling of old family photographs and worn down photo albums, Phumzile covered her digital camera with a cloth. “I didn’t want them [the images] to have this clean sense or this technically correct thing about it,” Phumzile explained. Certain images come across as blurred, slightly out of focus and grainy, working hand-in-hand with her inversion of the family photo album.

Having been awarded the Gisele Wulfsohn Mentorship in Photography in 2015, Phumzile was mentored by photographer and filmmaker Ayana V. Jackson. Her exhibition will be up until the 19th of March.

Check out more of her work visit her website or follow her on Instagram

© Phumzile Khanyile, Plastic Crowns, 2016

© Phumzile Khanyile, Plastic Crowns, 2016

15 February 2017