Tag: photography

Georg Gatsas – Exploring Cities Through Portraiture

The work of Swiss photographer Georg Gatsas has been published by magazines such as Wire, Dazed, i-D and Beat. Georg has been operating between London and Zurich for the past couple of years. He recently spent some time in Johannesburg as part of an artist residency organized by Pro Helvetia. I caught up with him to find out about his work and his time in SA.

Georg shot his first series called “The Process” (2002-2007) in New York which ended up in several exhibitions, magazines and publications. Currently, he mainly works as an analogue photographer. Shooting on film has allowed him to develop a particular attitude towards the shots he takes. Thinking about the cost of film rolls and that each closing of the shutter has a feeling of finality to it, Georg tries to focus and capture the right moment, taking less shots than he would with a digital camera. And often he finds it easier to carry around an analogue camera. In mentioning his creative process, Georg emphasized how he enjoys working organically and tries not to force any part of his work.

Tube Station

Georg’s first series were mainly portraits of musicians, visual artists, performance artists and designers which he shot at night. The people he was shooting were living mostly parallel to mainstream society; they had created their own hub. Through taking their portraits he got into their sleeping rhythms and started shooting nighttime streetscapes and the environment of the people in his portraits. The combination of these pictures became a portrayal of New York City and particular kinds of people who lived there. While residing in London for an exhibition in 2008, he started shooting the UK base music scene, which over an eight-year period has developed into a series called “Signal The Future”.”The portraits as part of the series become a portrayal of a certain environment, but also of the times we live in.” Georg explained that his work can be looked at in different ways, bringing to the fore questions on global sound, migration politics, cultural production in a hyper-capitalist city such as London, new aesthetics, new instruments of the underground, and how the mainstream reacts to it.

Having only spent time in Europe and the States before, he was initially quite thrown by the different rhythms and ways of being in Johannesburg. But soon his desire to learn about the flow of the city became stronger. His photographs from SA will follow a similar creative starting point to his previous work – capturing artists best representing their city. He has been photographing some of South Africa’s most interesting producers, musicians, artists and performers of 2016, including Fela Gucci, Mante Ribane and Dear Ribane, DJ Lag, DJ Doowap and Moonchild Sanelly. In his comment on how he selected people to photograph he explained that “it has to be a fan boy thing. So I am first of all a fan [of their work].” He explained that his choices were based on people doing important work, but work that was not quite defined yet. “I don’t like defined stuff. I like surprises…I like when people try out new things, things that move forward.”The photographs from Georg’s Johannesburg series will also be linked and combined with the images from his previous series as some of the artists in all these series know each other personally, are communicating and collaborating with each other.

Manthe Ribane

Georg’s experiences in Johannesburg and the people he has met have influenced the way in which he thinks about his work. “I have learned a lot politically, work wise, rhythmically. And a lot on the history of photography coming out of Africa and South Africa which is heavy, complex and difficult.”

Georg will be back in April for the second part of his residency. His first solo museum exhibition will take place at the Kunstmuseum St. Gallen in Switzerland in November 2017, and parts of it will hopefully lead into partnership exhibitions in London and Johannesburg.

DancerII

Sky H1

Bill Kouligas

2 January 2017
The Black diaspora in context: Reflections on the Black Portraitures conference III

The black body is a highly contested terrain that demands serious and complex examination into the lived experience of marginalized people. The Black Portraitures conference III, “a series of conversations about imagining the black body” was held from the 17^th till the 19^th of November 2016. This event was to be “a forum that [gave] artists, activists, and scholars from around the world an opportunity to share ideas from historical topics to current research on the 40th anniversary of Soweto”.

Though it was initially meant to be held on the Wits university campus, due to the growing fears of student protests in Johannesburg, it was later moved to the Turbine hall the home of Anglo America. This new venue with its concrete walls and security at every corner would ensure that this conference would continue without any outside delay.

The far-reaching influence of South African Artists like Ernest Cole and George Pemba would influence the decision to host the conference in Johannesburg, South Africa. Their works showed the harsh realities of black people under Apartheid and would give record to its struggle. It was also the music of Miriam Makeba and the images featured in Drum magazine that revealed this country as a rich source of a cultural production whose influence would make its way across the Atlantic.

Today this influence continues through the works of Zanele Muholi. Her works on queer black bodies in the South African townships would constantly be referenced throughout the panel discussions that I attended. She would also contribute to the opening remarks as she asked the South African participants to sing their national Anthem, a motion that would be consumed with wide-eyed enjoyment of our mostly American colleagues.

The speakers of the conference were drawn form academia, the arts, theatre, art history, journalism, literature and dance. These intellectuals would go on to provide a diverse analysis relating to black lives dealing with “the recent Rhodes must fall protests, #BlackLivesMatter, photography from post conflict zones, the poetry and politics of black hair and the 40^th anniversary of the Soweto Uprising.” (http://suttonpr.com/assets/In-Context-2016-press-pack.pdf)

The presence of US Ambassador Patrick Gaspard, armed with his suite clad body guards whispering into plastic ear pieces, reflected on the importance of this conferences:

“It is of keen consequence that this conversation arrive in Johannesburg not only at a moment of historical reflection, but also at the a critical juncture when the masses of young Africans throughout the diaspora are no longer mere subjects in the running narrative on equal access to justice, but have become the provisional producers and curators of their own provocation” (www.blackportraitures.info)

Yet the discussions within the conferences panel would go to show the black diaspora were never just the subjects of such narratives to begin with. The conference would show the ways in which black bodies have been constantly excluded from the very mainstream knowledge production that would seek to establish them as inferior. What I would see is an examination into how those same bodies would seek alternative avenues in which to assert their identity and humanity in the midst of their systematic silencing. It is this very same process which continues today resulting in the emergence of new political movements that continue the struggle for the recognition of black lives.

One such panel whose focus on Afrofuturism would examine how this literary and cultural aesthetic was being used in Detroit by artists and musicians to create new urban movements against gentrification and for basic amenities in mostly back communities.

A well attended panel on “Universal Blackness: The diaspora Experience in the 21^st century” would be presented by the Art Noir collective. Their discussion examined the deep challenges of black production within the arts. The very conference would be an expression of such challenges with the view that the conference was American organised and mostly funded. Although featuring many black American artists what resulted was the sidelining of the ideas and perspectives of local (South) African artists. The struggle was one from those from the South to take back their own spaces of production but also be very conscious of their own complacency within the very artistic structures that would maintain the unequal position of black artists in the art world.

One panel on Black power and protest went on to examine how “images have been used to protest ignorant notions of inferiority, while simultaneously combating apathy by attracting citizens to join movements.” Zanele would herself present in this discussion examining how her work as a photojournalist documented the lives of those sidelined in society whilst also acting as reclamation of their existence through portraits of black queer bodies.

With over 150 papers presented there was no shortage of good conversations and questions from the participants. The afternoon would also offer much entertainment and visual inspiration. For the opening night The Goodman gallery would host the conference opening with a festive reception and a celebration of its 50^th anniversary in 2016.

As part of celebration the Goodman would host the exhibition Africans in American which formed a part of their In Context 2016 series. The series functioned in “tracing the criss-crossing lines, shared histories and points of departures in the field of African, African Diaspora and African American Art and Art history” by working with the Black Portraitures Conference in “addressing [the] gaps in art history and re-writing it from diverse perspectives” (http://suttonpr.com/assets/In-Context-2016-press-pack.pdf).

The closing ceremony of the conference would be held at the Johannesburg art Gallery and feature some of South Africa’s leading figures in historical and current contemporary art. Some of the artists include Mary Sibande, Tracey Rose and Zanele Muholi. Also featured are the works of Dumile Feni and Gerard Sekoto as part of the historical presentation (https://friendsofjag.org/news-stories/2016/11/11/the-evidence-of-things-not-seen).

Though the conference may be over you can still view the exhibition at the JAG and Goodman Galleries, that for any contemporary South African art enthusiast is a definite must see. Though the conference is over its impact can still be found in the ideas and challenges presented to its participants and speakers at the event.

Yet one has to be in wonder of the logo for the In Context 2016 series. It features image of two continents, North America feeding into an Africa coming from below. This ironical presentation of the North to South dialogues seems to unintentionally reflect the deep power imbalance between these two continents. The conference aimed to find the commonalities between our lived experiences as a black diaspora. However, are we adequately able to engage with such ideas when global inequalities are so apparent, especially amongst its participants? Its privileged American (and even local) participants enter the space as Americans and the power that comes with such citizenship where the majority of African’s are being excluded from such opportunities.

The question to ask is how the dialogue amongst its participants would have been different had those without the power and privilege of being able to enter such middle class spaces? The very spaces that claim to be engaging with the ideas surrounding black knowledge can inadvertently exclude the very voices that they claim to be engaging with. There can be no real discussion surrounding equality and justice when those most affected by the lack of such are excluded from these debates.

23 November 2016
Mohau Modisakeng- The Return of The Repressed

The exploitation of the black body, and the counter efforts to resist, are the centre of gravity for South African history. Everything else- colonialism, Apartheid, violence, war, brutal labour and toil, paranoia and fear revolve around this to various degrees. Such a trouble reality of embodiment is central to the work of Mohau Modisakeng, the winner of the 2016 Standard Bank Young Visual Artist award. Originally from Soweto, he initially studied sculpture under Jane Alexander at UCT. But his focus shifted from sculpting external bodies to documenting his own. And through a series of photographs, films and installations he has made profound imagery which draws upon ancient and contemporary scars.

A great example is the 2012 photographic series Untitled. What strikes you first is the beauty of the images. They are expertly posed and styled, with plumes of mist and white doves giving a dream-like atmosphere. But the items included in the shots, like colonial style bowler hats and repeating rifles, betray a more brutal reality. History seeps like blood into all his work, with Endabeni being made at the site of the first official segregated settlement in South Africa, a literal birthplace of Apartheid urban planning.

His more recent work extends his critique beyond the borders of South Africa, with potent references to global forms of exploitation. An image called ‘ To Move Mountains’ is a stark close up of hands being soaked in crude oil. It subtly highlights how the substance we depend on is also the cause of war and environmental destruction, from the Niger Delta to the Middle East. My favourite image of his features a fancy dining room table covered in piles of filthy coal and scattered debris. Historically it speaks to how European high culture was built on the backs of black slavery and the plundering of the Global South, and to how white supremacy was haunted by the fear of revolt and reprisal from the repressed. It also implies that our modern civilization is built on a fragile foundation of non-renewable resources.

Modisakeng makes visual poetry from these contradictions. His work is like a documentary snatched out of nightmares.

16 September 2016
Umuzi- redefining creative economies through education that is accessible and free!

South Africa is currently in a critical place of rising consciousness, with far-reaching and irrevocable implications for the dismantling of ongoing oppressions, systemically enforced, both subtly and overtly, in our so-called ‘post-apartheid’ state. Through the explosion of movements such as #FeesMustFall, we have been able to bear witness to the beginning of a new, self-determined redefinition of this country. Umuzi directly speaks to these politics as a radical example of an alternative system of education that is accessible and free, and so I have decided, somewhat unconventionally, to reproduce the majority of our discussion below (there are some minor copy edits, collaboratively approved, pre-publication). Umuzi is about creating the next generation of creative professionals in order to challenge the South African narrative and their work is a tangible, practical manifestation of non-oppressive alternatives. As such, the conversation below can perhaps provide some insight into emancipatory operational structures for institutions in the future South Africa, currently in the process of being created. The conversation is also reproduced here in this format, as self-authorship is essential to the way that Umuzi functions. I caught up with Creative Director, Nthabiseng ‘Thubz’ Lethoko (referred to below as Thubz); Cohort 4 Recruit, Dimpho Saal (referred to below as Dimpho); and previous Cohort or alumni, Kgomotso ‘Neto’ Tleane (referred to below as Kgomotso).

Before we jump into the conversation, you should know that Umuzi are currently recruiting the next Cohort of Umuzi Recruits, set to take flight in mid-October. If you want to be part of this movement and you believe that you have what it takes, show them what you’ve got by applying at www.umuzi.org or hit them up on their Facebook page.

GW: So Umuzi started in 2009 with single-use film cameras and was directed at high-school students, how have you evolved from the Umuzi Photo Club of the past into the Umuzi of today?

Thubz: I’m glad that you started at the very beginning, because it touches on why we exist in the first place. Umuzi started through the realisation that there is a massive problem in terms of the black creative community; access is restricted and kids can’t actually get to this thing, because there is just too much money in between. We exist to bridge this gap, where access to privatised institutions is limited. The main reason that we do what we do, is because there is no transformation happening within the privatised sectors of the creative community or within creative schools… there is very little that is feeding the industry in terms of black creative talent and that causes an even bigger problem because the people who are going into the institutions do not understand the stories that they are trying to communicate to the mass market; they don’t live or understand those stories, which creates a very warped perception and outcome. That is the situation we are trying to change; we are trying to infiltrate that so that it becomes real and relatable or understandable.

Dimpho: I want to add to what Thubz is saying; money is a big problem but that also connects to other factors. As high school students you are fed certain information, or you receive certain perspectives from your parents; pressures to follow a mainstream career path, even if that isn’t necessarily linked to what you want to do. Because money is such an important aspect, you aren’t provided with the options that private institutions offer- say to actually become a visual artist- so then you are forced into doing other things. Umuzi really addresses some of these complications.

GW: A lot of this really speaks to the reality of a non-reformed education sector… even in terms of art classes often being exclusively provided within privatised schools; in public schools it’s sometimes not even an option.

All: Yes!

GW: This actually leads into the next question which is directly about the politics of education in this country- so we have already been speaking about bridging critical gaps but I guess there are also many other aspects; for example, in terms of creating non-hostile learning environments. Obviously we’ve recently had the #SansSouci protests. Is there anything else that you would like to elaborate on in terms of how Umuzi engages these politics?

Thubz: The way that we educate and upskill our Recruits works off of 3 Pillars: Education, Community and Content. With regards to the Education Pillar, our aim is to provide skills in order for our Recruits to secure employment. They get a certificate at the end of the process, but we are really focussed, at the end of the day, on ensuring our Recruits are employable. In this way we are quite different from traditional education systems. This is supported by all of our Managers; we all come from the creative industry where we’ve had to learn to clearly understand those environments. It’s not like we’re coming from text books; we’re coming from real life and that’s what the job experience angle means. The work that is created here, or the challenges that we give, are based on realities and we expect real results. Our Recruits learn things that they would actually be expected to do when entering the creative economy- so they enter being ready. The second Pillar is Community. The first aspect of that is the community of Umuzi itself; we are constantly communicating with our students in one way or another, from our very first Cohorts until now. We provide an ongoing system of support for our students and they can always come back… Kgomotso, maybe you want to talk about that?

Kgomotso: Just to pick up on what we were saying with regards to the traditional way of learning; when I first came here it was very different to how it is now. Back then, you would come in and you would study and write tests. Now, you accumulate briefs and then engage in real life experiences, often working around your own community. As Thubz was saying, if you want to move into the industry, you enter with a lot of real experience. But not everyone wants to work in predefined structures or positions, so Umuzi also engages community in the sense of providing a space for you to do your own thing. Even after you have graduated, you can still come in and work from here and build your own thing. It’s also a great space for collaboration because there are so many creatives here; you can literally turn around and find a great writer or a graphic designer and involve them in your project. The energy here is amazing because you are surrounded by people who are continuously producing and that gives you the drive to create new content.

Thubz: That actually made me think about our bigger hope and dream. Right now we are Umuzi and we are producing these awesome, young, creative people and it seems like we have the social capital because we are the hook up between them and the industry. But if you think about it like an infinite hourglass, the sand comes from the top and goes to the bottom, but over time, the sand starts to accumulate from the bottom and rise to the top. That’s kind of the situation with Kgomotso; he’s graduated but he’s coming back here and using the people within our space for his own projects. So our hope it that when the first or second Cohorts are the group heads, or senior art directors, or executive creative directors, or managing directors… once they have the social capital, the whole thing will flip.

GW: That’s quite unique; I don’t really know other institutions that do that… it’s like they take your money and kick you out the door.

Thubz: Ya… so I also feel like we maybe shouldn’t be put on too much of a pedestal right now, because it’s not actually about us, it’s about that moment when everything flips over.

Kgomotso: The community part of it is crazy because if you go to a creative event, it’s hard not to spot Umuzi people, from all of the groups. In the next two or three years, it’s going to be massive… it’s going to be something else!

Thubz: We’re hoping for that change to happen really soon.

Dimpho: A few months ago we attended the One Club Creative Bootcamp. When I got there, I had conversations with students from other institutions and many were saying that they only do practical work in their fourth year, which is really weird! We do that every single week and we present every Friday, so our skills really are practically harnessed. We don’t have set textbooks, so that’s not the way that we learn; our learning material is, for example, often visual or our Managers compile what they think we need at that point in time and that’s really special. Through these non-alienating, practical processes, we are equipped with what we need- at the end of the day, people want to see content.

GW: It’s pretty political; this idea of organic knowledge rather than that being this stale construct based on restricted access and locked away in the cabinets of ivory towers.

Thubz: I love what Dimpho was saying because that speaks to the third Pillar, which is Content. That basically means that when you leave, are you able to work? Do you understand what is happening and are you employable in that moment? The way that we measure ourselves is from industry feedback; ‘your people are awesome, I want to work with them, how can we employ them?’ So we measure ourselves from that perspective, rather than from self-created hype or hollow self-promotion.

GW: I was reading a few of the available articles about your work and they mentioned how it started through photography and that something important about that was how it transcended language barriers. Maybe it’s a bit of an off-centre question but because we’ve been speaking in the ways that we are, I want to ask about the politics of language within the space?

Kgomotso: I think from my experience, the language of Umuzi… I can’t say it’s like this specific language or that specific language, it’s like Kasi slang or like how I would speak to some of my friends. If I had to say that Umuzi was a person, I would say that it was someone who grew up in Joburg, in the hood… but in the 90s though
[All laugh]
Dimpho: While we may learn in English, we are often aiming to get into the industry in order to amend certain problems. So Umuzi is not just developing creatives; it’s developing professional creatives. For now, we need to get into that space and be able to professionally communicate with everyone, while still bringing in that real person that Kgomotso just mentioned. In this way, we can start the work of telling our own original and authentic stories.

Thubz: I mean the language question is also a part of that flip we were talking about. When you get into a professional environment, you need to be professional enough to translate what you want to say in a way that they can understand, but you also need to be able to use vernac confidently; because you know, that they know what you are talking about.

Dimpho: I remember we were, at some stage, watching an ad it was trying to speak to the black community but everything just felt totally wrong and that happens so often! That is why we need to be the change.

Recruit Name: Lesego Maphutha – Graphic Designer/Art Director

Artwork: Black Label – Celebrating woman of power throughout the year ( Poster Campaign )

GW: That leads to the next question I want to ask, because a lot of the articles I have read are like; ‘Umuzi’s cool because it’s about disadvantaged youth.’ They actually use and repeat this reductive terminology as the primary description of the people engaged in this space… So I want to try to address that by explicitly asking about the diversity of the Umuzi Recruits?

Thubz: There is so much! We range from a 19 year old, right through to a 29 year old- that’s a difference of 10 years! But what is important is that those people still feed off of each other and create together; there are no barriers or hierarchies where it’s like ‘oh, I’m older than you’ or whatever.

Kgomotso: We are all so different! For example, you get people from rural KZN who come to learn here, you get people from Soweto, you get people who grew up in the burbs, and so the cultures and backgrounds are really varied. I think that’s one of the reasons why we end up having such a diversity of content; because we all have different ways that we see the world and our surroundings.

Thubz: That’s actually really important because often, the assumption in the industry or in the media, is that a township is a township and that everyone goes through the same stuff. So if you come from a township, the attitude is like, ‘oh, you went through that thing or you know what we’re talking about.’ But something I’ve really experienced through Umuzi, is that every single township is so different; they all have their own cultures and unique lingos, which are so rich and beautiful!

GW: Obviously Umuzi is very youth-focussed and relatively early on there was the shift from the high school students to the tertiary level. Is there more you want to say about the youth aspect of the work or why the youth are so important within creative industries?

Dimpho: The youth are a huge demographic in this country and it’s really important that we are spoken to in a way that we understand. Because we are from that place, we know how to speak from it in a real way. Also important is the fact that we have witnessed the recent shift or explosion in youth consciousness within this country. We have been right in the middle of a transition, and so we have witnessed both perspectives in terms of the youth of the past and the youth of today… we carry a bit of both.

Kgomotso: I think we are living in a very crucial time; there are so many things that are happening and changing and it is mostly because of us. We have seen so many injustices happening for such a long time and now we are directly addressing these things; often through creativity. It’s up to us to communicate the things that are happening and we are finding that we are able to do this even with people who maybe don’t understand or properly see what’s going on. So it’s massively important as the youth of now, that we create content that is able to communicate these things.

Thubz: I think the youth of today is like a juxtaposition between now and the youth of ‘76. It’s been a really long time since they’ve had a voice, and I’m not exactly sure what the reasons for that are, but they’re speaking and it’s important to listen to that now! That’s something we feel quite strongly about at Umuzi.

GW: There’s maybe something interesting here that connects the economy to the politics. I think contemporary youth sometimes get quite frustrated when older people look at them like, ‘oh, they’re pretty useless because they’re not employed by this age, or they don’t have this by that age, or they’re not married by that age’ or whatever… without necessarily realising how much things have changed; it’s a totally different operating system. But the point is that that attitude kind of implies the lament of ‘where are the youth’ or ‘where are the great youth leaders of today?’ But now it’s like ‘whoa, they’re here!’ And not only are they here in conscious ways that don’t buy into empty rhetoric, but they’re also totally remaking things in really interesting ways… they’re creating their own economies.

Thubz: We’re touching on something really important which we haven’t spoken about; because there hasn’t been a huge culture of young creative professionals within our communities, there are almost no role models. Getting your family to understand- before you even talk about the money- that you want to, for example, be a designer or an art director; they often don’t understand what that means. So you are already challenged, within your home to try to explain yourself. You don’t have a successful next-door neighbour you can point to, or you don’t have an uncle who knows somebody, who knows somebody, who will hook you up, so that your mom will feel comfortable or secure enough to let you go into that industry. So the great leaders have always been here… they just haven’t had the opportunities… especially from a creative perspective.

Kgomotso: Being in this time and looking at the media landscape, I think that one of the ways in which the youth have been able to claim their power is through social media. Today there are so many ways to put your voice out there, so in that way, there is also an important direct link between the youth’s consciousness and the format of media itself. There’s this ability to have a direct voice…

Dimpho: …You don’t have to wait for specific events anymore. You can raise your voice and speak about a topic at any time and it’s always amazing how many people actually want to speak back.

GW: I guess that’s another kind of flip or feedback mechanism, because Umuzi is engaging with a changing media landscape, where you learn that your own voice is a powerful thing.

Kgomotso: Exactly. As much as social media is a virtual thing, it’s also the real word and about real things that are happening. We can recognise those connections and carry that perspective into the work that we do.

Recruit Name: Kgodisho “Zito” Mowa – Graphic Designer/Art Director

Artwork: The Mzansian ( Social Media Campaign )

GW: I want to ask a bit more about the operational specifics- I know that you have had various recruitment campaigns; how does this aspect function?

Thubz: We have a recruitment drives every couple of months- I think right now it’s every 4 to 6 months. With every drive we have a campaign. Because we are so fluid and learn and evolve so much within the periods between recruitments, we try to take what we have learnt from previous Cohorts or from new people who have come in, and we let that influence us in developing the next campaign. We refer to the people who come in on specific recruitment drives as Cohorts and we are now on Cohort 5. The Cohorts aren’t annually structured; it’s more organic than that.

GW: That’s quite important, because for people who may have been restricted from entering other institutions, it’s often like, well, what are you supposed to do after that? Through Umuzi’s intake process opportunities are opened up, rather than shut down.

Thubz: People also drop out of school at different times and for different reasons. People find themselves in many different situations. With us, you don’t have to then sit and wait it out for the rest of the year, while not pursuing your goals.

Kgomotso: And this structure is also something that has evolved over time. In the beginning it was more of a traditional, annual thing. So it’s an example of the ways that Umuzi adapts in relation to the realities of this country.

Thubz: Umuzi is a working example of free education. There is also a small stipend provided for transportation; so access is a critical consideration throughout our entire operation.

GW: Next I want to ask; do you perhaps want to mention any successful or notable alumni?
[All laugh and make comments about ‘pretty much everyone’]

Recruit Name: Kgomotso “Neto” Tleane – Alumni Photographer

Image Description: Image taken at “Fees must fall” used for the “Take your power to the polls” campaign

Thubz: It’s a difficult to say ‘these are the people’, because there are those who are successful and are under the spotlight, and then there are those who are successful and aren’t under the spotlight. I guess I could say, once again, how we measure ourselves is through the industry response or through actual employment. Throughout 2015, we had an 80% employment rate which is pretty phenomenal if you think about it!

GW: I want to ask a bit about what the days look like or how things are actually structured. I know you have also had some really great Master Classes; I saw on the blog that you’ve had sessions with Lebogang Rasethaba, Zwelethu Radebe and Dr Peter Magubane. Maybe you can tell me a bit more about the way things function and also about the mentorship aspect?

Thubz: We are constantly evolving; so the way that we did things with Cohort 1 is very different to the way that we did things with Cohort 4. For the first 3 months of the year, you go through what we call a crash-course. In those months you go from department to department- there are 6 (photography, graphic design, digital marketing, traffic, videography, and copywriting) and you spend 2 weeks in each… everyone moves around and gets a taste of everything. After that, you move on to specialisation, where for 6 months you intensively focus on the department you came here for. If you change your mind about what you want to do during the crash-course, you are able to make that change.

GW: Taking into account some of the gaps we have spoken about, that exposure and option to shift is kind of amazing; there seems to be a reflexivity to the fact that many incoming creatives may not have actually had exposure to the variety of career paths that exist?

Thubz: Exactly. Then in the last few months of the programme, the Cohort is sent for work experience, where they really get to test out everything they’ve learnt during the process.

GW: Do you want to say anything about the Master Classes?

Kgomotso: What’s interesting for me is that we get exposed to a lot of black professionals, so that’s really inspiring and a lot of the things that they say are relatable to us. So, in ways, that fills the role model gap we were speaking about earlier.

Recruit Name: Tshepiso Mabula – Cohort 4 Photographer Recuit

Image Name: Tshepiso Church – Part of a series

GW: I’m going through the nitty-gritty here, but how do the exhibitions work?

Thubz: The exhibitions used to be about the old annual structure, so they would look at the whole year of work and celebrate that. What we do now, is we have something called #COM or Creative of the Month. People get to submit their work online and there’s a panel that then selects an overall winner. The plan- we’ve only done one so far- is that we will print all of the work that comes in and this is going to form future exhibitions. So anyone, from any Cohort, past or present, is able to submit, again returning to the Community Pillar.

GW: I want to then quickly ask about some of the individual projects I’ve picked up on; like The Bicycle Stokvel project and the Backroom Space project. From what I can tell, it seems like there’s a willingness to highlight the work that Umuzi students do; their own initiatives that occur even beyond the institution?

Kgomotso: There is a supportive attitude towards individual projects and that’s important because often, like in those examples, these projects are about taking art out of inaccessible spaces and making it available to the communities and to the general public. So these are ways that the Recruits are applying and putting their knowledge into practice.

GW: We’ve had a really generative discussion and I think we’ve picked up on some important dynamics in terms of how Umuzi operates, so I think let’s close it up by just asking if each of you perhaps want to share some final words?

Kgomotso: For me, Umuzi changes the way that you see things. Even if you already come from an alternative perspective, it helps you to structure your work and hones your ability to articulate that. Through Umuzi I feel like I’ve been enabled to create real work with strong purpose.

Dimpho: I’d like to pick up again on the point of creating visibility around the creative sector as something able to provide viable careers. Through Umuzi’s work, people within our communities are exposed to that, so all of these processes are generating real change.

Thubz: I want to touch on what Kgomotso said in relation to the projects, which really relates to our role and our vision. I really connect with the work that Umuzi Recruits are creating because that really is challenging the South African narrative in one way or another. They are breaking down walls, which is awesome and makes me really excited… because art and creativity don’t belong inside the walls of specific, predefined spaces.

Recruit Name: Kgomotso “Neto” Tleane – Alumni Photographer

Image Name: 0.01 and x2 vote- The Honey (Ongoing online Campaign)

14 September 2016
The Beard magazine and a look into the archive of Durban’s cult subculture

Durban is a city that is constantly evacuated, reconstituted, and returned to; kids throw their lives into bags and haul pieces of themselves back-and-forth while trying to find their bigger-picture footing. Despite is sleepy façade, things aren’t anchored in the same ways as other cityscapes; there’s an ephemeral and meteoric quality to the things that happen there… a strange landscape of abandon, interspersed with the flares of often-undocumented explosions. So I guess you can’t really tell unless you find yourself in it; something like that old beach-front swing-boat which goes nowhere to onlookers but from the seat, moves with such an incredible speed, it makes you think your head might explode. Sometimes the details get blurry, because everyone still carries traces of that delirious dizzy, but The Beard online magazine was definitely established somewhere towards the end of MySpace days; when gigs still had flyers and people had to phone each other to know what was happening. Justin ‘Sweat Face’ McGee had returned to Durban from Cape Town – where he had lined up an assistant-photographer job – with the intention of collecting the rest of his life to take with him. But things turned out differently when he snapped up a fairly random photography opportunity and then that portfolio was circulated, landing him further jobs. Based on the strength of his work, McGee rapidly escalated, within a couple of weeks, from ‘assistant-photographer’ to ‘photographer’ and so decided to stick around in Durban where he co-created The Beard with Dan Maré.

So, McGee found himself back in his home-town but not really knowing, or wanting to know, any of the people that were still around. Back then, digital photography was still on the upswing and he used to walk the city, armed with his first digital camera, which he ended up totally destroying trying to learn everything he could. The lens gave him the privilege of getting to look at the world and to document the visual landscape around him and so he would mission, sometimes from his place on the Esplanade to the beachfront and back, exploring and shooting as much as possible and embracing the format’s lack of turnaround time in order to develop his photographic eye. He tells me how he used to love getting in-between people, going unnoticed and capturing really dynamic, natural moments. Later on, when he became slightly infamous for proclaiming “I’ll make you famous” on the party scene, there was something of that same impulse- how he could put people at ease and get them to look really great through unselfconscious and un-posed images. McGee was always pushing himself and his craft and, wanting to stretch the possibilities of photography even further, started making digital collages of Durban, with each image working-in up to three or four hundred layers. This work inspired the format of The Beard, which subverted the linear point-and-click, scroll-down websites of the time by reading as one long, expressive collage, stretching horizontally across the screen and embedding posts within the visuals as a digital treasure-hunt. Like the scenes it documented and bridged, there was nothing sterile about it. Everything was frantic creation for the sake of creation, blazing from multiple spaces, in a city not totally bogged-down by the dynamics of hierarches of cool or profession or whatever. Because we’re going back here, the media landscape was massively different and The Beard was online before that kind of publishing was really prevalent. No one had cell phone cameras and selfies wasn’t a term yet. I guess this lent itself to the unrestrained and immodest energy of the time because no one really felt surveilled; it was all about the immediacy of the moment. There was also maybe something about Durban, where a strange sense of freedom developed because creativity wasn’t so economised and people often aimed to move out; nobody was worried about stepping on toes or being unpolished or judged- if you didn’t know what to do, you could just make shit up.

Being slightly adrift in a somewhat unrecognisable home-town, McGee used his camera to bite into some of the scenes and spaces that he wanted to be in, defining himself and his practice through the process. Cue the fashion kids who were studying from Brickfield Road at the time and who were also engaging in self-fdefinition; Ravi Govender, Jamal Nxedlana, Dino Perdica, and Harold Nxele. Feeling frustrated with what they saw as irrelevant information, being delivered in an uninspiring, traditional and restrictive environment, they began to rebel against the institution- radically redefining their own curriculum through an embodied practice. This began a powerful network of then informal collaboration and inspiration, where ideas and concepts were deciphered in accordance with their own realities and the ways that they had begun to live their lives. Upset Fridays emerged as a way to politicise fashion, disturbing and disrupting the authoritative limitations of that space by dressing provocatively and wearing their own definitions of what fashion could be. They took the tools they were given and used these to subversively dismantle; taking a social-psychology perspective on fashion, they would aim to destabilise and create uncomfortability in order to evoke a response, extending and blurring the boundaries between fashion and art. They already had tons of paint to work with, because they had figured out where to get the best vintage stuff in Durban. Ravi and Jamal had already been stocking some spaces through a label called Washed Up Nicely and knew that you could get the best international stuff- Mikey Mouse sweaters, Nu Rave gear and Canadian and American brands- at The Workshop piles, and all the local stuff- Jonsson’s overalls, old Natal swim jackets, 5FM, Checkers and political party T-shirts – at the hospice shops and the Victoria Street Market piles. Their immersion within those spaces, where multiple influences were running through alternative economies, and the rebellious desire to create new realities coalesced in an aesthetic that embraced the cultural value of Durban and that took all of it in, looked at all the different people operating in those spaces- the Gogos doing the selling, the Pantsula dancers, the construction workers- and recognised all of their individual style languages as valuable and unique articulations. So that Durban fashion crew took street-style, as well as their own versions of anti-fashion and (un)Fashion, and merged these with high-fashion; picking up on international subcultures and then projecting these through their own South African lens. They had originally been inspired by OGs like Puma and George Nzimande (aka George Gambino) and concepts like busting the funk but began to feel like they were surpassing this through their highly conceptual approach and so, when they linked-up with McGee and the platform his camera offered, it was unhindered and explosive.

All of this was happening while the pub kids were refusing to let The Winston Pub die. Burn had moved from Umbilo Road and the space had emptied out, but Skollie Jols revived it and the band scene was thriving. Those were the days before the come-down, when all the boys had tons of hair, Blue was car-guarding, and Farrah could beat Meaty One at the drinking competitions. Sibling Rivalry were still jamming, Fruits and Veggies had its original line-up (Darren, Purity, Sweet Lu and Loopy), and most kids could bust-out a Big Idea track without thinking. The park had shut down but there was still the lot and the kids rocked it hard. Everyone made out with everyone else… especially the guys with each other. There was the creation of an alternative home for all of the misfits and reprobates, and because all of them were already in it so deep, they just kept on going until it blew-up as an untameable beast. If someone felt comfortable walking into that chaos and actually hanging out, they were welcomed. There was Bean Bag, Jamesons, The Bat Centre, and The Willowvale Hotel but because the city didn’t really offer the alternatives kids very much, everyone made their own spaces. It was all about uncensored affront and everyone was creating; the comic book kids were making comics, the punks were making music and the poets were busting out at the Life Check battles. McGee had starting going out with Illana Welman (aka Lani Spice) and JR (aka Dr Pachanga) was staying with him at the time. Graf artists like OPTONE, 2kil, and Fiyaone were kicking about and DJ Creepy Steve was just limbering up. Sweat Face started using his camera to infiltrate the pub space and everything just exploded in a really viral, organic way… different scenes were bridged and it created something really unique and dynamic, where everyone took bits-and-pieces from each other. All the kids spoke their own languages and code-switched until it was almost unrecognisable to outsiders. Everything was a collaged and remixed inside-joke, embedded with multiple meanings; get-in-the-car, zero-to-hero, trawling, going on tour, pop-art, free elephant rides, supporting life, pikey. Pastel Heart had just hit the scene and was bursting-at-the-seams with pure expression in his babbles and clicks- everyone loved him, even if they couldn’t understand him, because they were all on their own vernaculars.

Because the scene was so small, it operated as strange extended family; no one fitted in, but everyone was somehow outside, together. If immediate families were around, kids would often subvert these structures, heading to friends’ places in subdued attire only to switch-it-up and hit the night in camis and capes, strut in Mary Janes and sparkle-pants. The Beard documented some of this subculture and also offered a platform for the Sunday Workshop, where the fashion kids would take turns setting conceptual creative-briefs. They’d all get styled-up and head out to shoot or they’d invite friends over to Sweat’s spot and party and make DIY backgrounds and sets… just curating and shooting as much as possible in a totally unfiltered environment. The images and styles they created pre-empted a lot of today’s youth cultural crews, with the international being reflected through the local. Everything was reimagined; Versace prints, Balenciaga futurism, and Nu Rave were all mixed-in with visuals of the South African political, Vaalie vibes, Sangomas and Kondais… and it was all about Durban spaces. The Beard was online before anyone was really aware of the internet’s possibilities, so when Ravi, Jamal, Dino and Harald would hit fashion events in other cities, and hear people talking about the Durban scene through the images McGee had captured, it was one of the first times they realised the internet’s potential for creating connections beyond the IRL. Creativity was exponentially amplified because everyone one was pushing and feeding-off-of each other’s energy. Nothing was precious and ideas were fast; no one was saying lit… it was basically cult. That whole crazy-blur-of-a-moment set a precedent for who McGee would become as a photographer and incubated approaches and relationships that continue today through collectives like CUSS Group and Bubblegum Club. No one came out unscathed and some of the kids kind of lost it when they realised that the world isn’t made for such big living- I guess hostile hierarchies were easy to forget when everything around them was their own lavish creation. But the originality of those times is totally unshakeable and although most have scattered, they’re still out there, carving out strange spaces and definitely making a scene… stay weird kids, xo

The Mag

The Nights

The Fashion

21 July 2016
On-Air Entertainment: A Look Into Johannesburg’s After-Dark Film Reel

Photographs have become indispensable to our nightlife: there’s no party unless it’s pictured. Amid the lazer beams, and tri-coloured stage lights, is the cacophony of tiny camera-phone flashes, setting off about the crowd. Snapping images is part of what it means to share, enjoy and curate our after-dark experiences. A night on the town clusters around various photo opportunities: getting dressed, meeting up with friends, the taxi ride, the big arrival, the bathroom graffiti, the pavement banter, the ride home, maybe even a selfie before bed. It’s a life documented, a record of existence.

Although we are now all Insta-photographers, we are not simply interested in being seen and recorded: we also hope to be captured well. If anything, an Insta-culture has attuned our eyes to quality lighting, design and composition. We are an aesthetically discerning generation, concerned with packaging our lives with the right colour schemes and filters: the quotidian as art.

Curating our visual record becomes far more difficult after dark. Phone cameras flail in a low-light environment. Increasingly, nightlife promoters are recognising that part of what makes an event ‘lit’ is expert photography. That has been the business of On-Air Entertainment.

On-Air is comprised of young photographers. Nights spent taking pictures in clubs soon flourished into a business. Entirely self-taught, the crew accumulated more and more gear as they continued to work. In their early twenties, they established a company. ‘Over the years you get your style’ Leander explains. ‘That’s how you know that’s the shot you need to take. Your creativity comes out in that space’.

On-Air have now been in the business for eight years, splintering into corporate work, fashion shoots, photo-booths, social uploading, videography and an array of events photography. Their newly renovated studio is tucked away in a suburban area in Montgomery Park. Simply driving past, one would have no idea that behind the neat lawns and flower beds, were three of the biggest events photographers in the game, who spend their nights capturing sound, light and bodies at high velocity.

Amid the lightning-fast traffic of uploaded night-photography, On-Air recurs again and again in the image peripheries. Jo’burg’s nocturnal city is being captured by their lenses. From Black City and Pop Bottles, to J-Cole at the dome, massive Zone 6 gigs, and the most recent SAMA Awards.

Scan through an On-Air catalogue and it’s difficult to miss their sharp-lens perspective: a top-lit crowd receding into a horizon of smoke and spotlight; a DJ ascending from the decks, basking in purple light; a sea of heads arched in submission towards the stage lights. Despite the dark room and crowd current, bodies are captured and suspended in perfect technicolour. On-Air are shaping how we remember our nights on the city. Their photographs, astutely composed and lit, offer a shortcut to nostalgia.

There’s a now well-known idiom: ‘Don’t shoot what it looks like. Shoot what it feels like’. And that is what On Air have done: pictures of awe, power, ecstasy, release, and solidarity. Through these selective images, audiences are able to extract blissful moments from the long hours spent waiting in line, the drinks spilled, the desperate scrambles towards the stage, the broken glass. The carefully chosen images tease out these transcendent moments from the negatives, re-enchanting us, keeping us coming back.

15 July 2016
For lessons in liberation from late nights in Camden, see Robert Lang’s Filthy and Gorgeous

Youth, drink and beauty are the currency of late nights the world over. But with all this some people still seem to be having more fun than everyone else. In his first solo show SA born Robert Lang offers a visual legacy into Camden in the early to mid noughties; in the time of beautiful, doomed Amy and wild, messy Pete. Frequenting a local pub called the Hawley Arms before it was commercial and documenting the exploits of his muses and friends, Lang candidly created a context for Camden post millennium.

Robert Lang born in Durban, South Africa, moved to Camden as a teenager, ‘to see the world’ and he encountered some colourful, creative people there. Filthy, Gorgeous in Camden Town is an ode to that time and space of youthful discovery and revelry contained and coloured by the themes of ‘Indie, Rock, Punk and Vintage’. It is an exploration of hedonism and vivacity just after the world had been meant to end.

Robert Lang fashion photography Filthy Gorgeous zine

The images reflect partying and fun as it is- when it’s good; messy, raucous and liberating. Lang’s photos are all of women and their exploits within this scene, a nod to the enchanting, capturing beauty of the female form and the wild streak of a young women entering adulthood, and revelling in independence and urban life. The exhibition holds a mirror to Lang’s life in Camden, to the streets and spaces he and his friends enjoyed in his years in the North London neighbourhood. Since then he has moved to Los Angeles and the women documented have also moved on and grown up and out of Camden.

Robert Lang fashion photography Filthy Gorgeous zine

In filthy,gorgeous Camden, art is life and creating comes as easy as a night out with friends. And the camera gets an intimate pass because it is being held by a friend and not some overzealous party phothog. Every scene, every establishment has that moment of making itself and attracting interesting people and experiences, but it never lasts. Eventually it explodes and gets too commercial so all the sensitive people stop going and move on. But these images tell the story of a vibrant time in Camden town, when everyone wanted a good time and nothing was contrived or self conscious. It is a beautiful story of youth and young womanhood accessorized with beer and bad behaviour. Sooo lit, sooo liberating.

Have a look at Fitlhy, Gorgeous Camden Town by Robert Lang; the exhibition is on at the Doomed Gallery in Dalston until July 17th.

Robert Lang fashion photography Filthy Gorgeous zine

Robert Lang fashion photography Filthy Gorgeous zine

Robert Lang fashion photography Filthy Gorgeous zine

12 July 2016
Unathi Mkonto: Architect of modern masculinity // Boys of South Africa

Conceptions of the masculine form are in a constant state of flux. Unathi Mkonto captures a redefined kaleidoscopic facet in his strikingly subtle images. Boys of South Africa emerged in January last year out of a desire to document the overlapping social and physical spheres around him. “I don’t believe masculinity can be strictly defined. I seek to express beauty, rejection and failure. I am better because I have failed myself.”

The online magazine merges multi-disciplinary skills rooted in architecture and fashion. Many of the photographs depict urban landscapes foregrounded by half-clad male figures. “In my work I trying to humanize the historically, apartheid-inspired built environment which forms [the] backdrop of the photograph. I am working backwards [from] fashion. Fashion is about putting on clothes and here the clothes are discarded away from the body”

His black and white images are imbued with a quiet nostalgia – Mkonto describes the aesthetic as “uneventful and timeless”. Although the title, Boys of South Africa, ties the photographs to a specific spatio-temporal context. Through the work, he represents a kind of identity “that is very specific to South Africa. It has to do with minds and the emotions.”

This overarching sense of ease, coupled with an undercurrent of socio-political tension underpins the dynamic images. “I am genuinely proud of my work and to share my life with the rest of the world. I respect the people I shoot and they trust me, trust is priceless.”

The first volume of Boys of South Africa included line drawings. Since then, Mkonto has extended the project into the realm of photography. “The vulnerability that one can expose in photographic film” prompted the transition. Although in his personal practice he continues to draw and render preliminary studies for sculptural works. Mkonto hopes that in the future Boys of South Africa will exist in a tangible form. “The idea of printing a special edition is exciting.” He also sees potential in challenging advertisers and create work in print, video or film.

7 July 2016
Zakifo Muzik Festival 2016: A reflective photo-story by Robyn Perros

This photo-story captures the blissfully imperfect moments of experimentation. The unedited images by Durban-based photo-journalist, writer and artist, Robyn Perros, documents some grit and much grain of one of South Africa’s newest and most diverse ‘afro-futuristic’ music festivals on colour film. The 2016 Zakifo Muzik Festival took place in Durban from 27-29 May 2016 and this year Perros put down her pen and decided to doodle in the dark with her Pentax K1000 to capture some of it

[All images and text courtesy of Robyn Perros]

“You have the worst dance moves I have ever seen,” a drunk friend yelled over the smooth whisky voice of Vusi Mahlasela pouring out from the stage in front of us. I watched my limbs drift like lost kelp through an ocean of lazers. My joints pop like firecrackers on a tarmac. And my muscles defy the restricting skin above them, as my body navigated through the dark like a bat. He was right. I did have the worst dance moves we had ever seen.

He continued to stare, as I smiled a little wider and jumped a little harder, shaking the palm trees from the Kwa-Zulu concrete. Unscathed and unashamed – I continued to dance – hoping that my worst dance moves would pierce his memory like a spear and stay there forever. For I would rather be seen at my worst, than not seen at all. I would rather be remembered for the real, the imperfect and true, than not remembered at all.

In a way, this tiny isolated moment of innocent inhibition sums up my experience of Durban’s Zakifo Muzik Festival. In a way, it sums up today’s modern youth culture. In a way, perhaps it could sum up everything if we had the patience to truly see.

Whether we admit it or not, we all want to be seen. Whether it’s on a wall, on a catwalk, in a book or on a stage. We all want to be remembered. It seems people today will do whatever it takes to be seen and not forgotten. But I would rather be truly seen and remembered by a select few, than merely looked at and recalled by the masses. With the small crowds present at Zakifo this year, I hope the festival shared the same sentiments as I.

I saw a small portion of the festival through a 50mm lens of a faulty film camera my step-father had given me. It’s my favourite camera. It’s the one I shoot the things I want to remember on. It’s the one I remember every shot planned so carefully. It’s the one that rips my heart out each time a roll of film comes out blank. It’s the one that makes every fleeting, mundane, imperfect moment unforgettable for me.

Our greatest archive is our own memory. It’s our internal internet, our personal bookshelf, our most three-dimensional photo album. With so many reviews, news, and daily media flashfloods, remembering it all is an impossible feat. So I choose to keep my memories and own interpretations close. For they are mine and ultimately, for me alone, do they truly matter.

I will remember Zakifo as the time I had the opportunity to stand front row and inhale some of the most remarkable musicians in the world, like Songhoy Blues, Vaudou Game, Inna Modja, Blitz The Ambassador, Maya Kamaty, Vusi Mahlasela and Kid Franscescoli.

I will remember it as the time I was able to get out of the surf, and walk across the street to listen to some of the best music in Africa – with the Indian Ocean still sticky on my skin.

I will remember it as the time I was young and beautiful and danced like the world was going to end.

I will remember it for the people. The ones that make me proud to be human.

I will remember it for all the images I shot, even the dozens that didn’t come out.

Even though Zakifo may not have been perfect; like each photograph and memory is for me, it is important. Festivals like Zakifo should be remembered. Even if only by a few. For it is just the start of something new in Africa, something positive in the world. Something to be treasured, something to be seen.

And when I see it again in the future, I will say to myself ‘yes, I was there at the beginning.’ And each time I recall those moments. The ones where I was truly present, truly myself and truly moved – my dear friend, not only will you see me dance, you will see me fly.

21 June 2016
The elusive worlds of Elsa Bleda in dystopian, digital emulsion

Elsa Bleda was born into movement, crossing continents in the turning tides of her mother, the artist. What does it mean to form connections through the heightened beauty of transience? To be half-way down the mercurial street before the light can gather to hold you? Some things may get left behind, remain as spectral after-effects of a vital acceleration into the world, but other things congregate and move with you at your pace; sights and sounds and textures, multiple influences to draw upon in self-definition. Perhaps these rhythms are why she is so drawn to the spaces of Johannesburg’s night- the way they hold the traces of encounters in their quietening reverberations; speak to the tensions of leaving and arriving, and to all the different ways that a life can be lived.

Elsa’s photography began as personal documentation, in the ardour of the individual archival. However, in more recent years, her work has become an artistic interface between her internal and external worlds, a compelling voice without words, an additional language within her multiple grammars; a tributary that begins and returns to the heart, like blood. A photo can hold an open-secreting, contain the double-turn of having to forget in order to remember, and this ambiguity is folded within her visions through the disquieting relationship between the opaque and the revealed.

There is a haunting quality to Elsa’s work, a kind of dystopian, digital emulsion, pronounced through distant angles, the buzz of neon-nowhere, and what remains after the long-exposure. When I spoke with her, she told me about the intensity of her dreams, how they find her in the deep clutch of night and extend into her waking hours. The impossible things that are nonetheless known through the complexities of human experience; mysterious realities conjured against the florescent-glare of the world as it pretends to be. Elsa weaves this elusive imagery into her cinematic aesthetic, blurs the divisions between different worlds, and evokes the imagination of her viewer; more than you can gather to fathom through the strict breath of glass and a billow of curtains.

Her commercial portfolio is increasingly impressive; having recently represented the Adidas Originals #NMD Campaign in Johannesburg, but it is perhaps her unique artistic vision that is emerging most powerfully. Elsa was recently chosen as one of Trevor Beattie’s ‘Famous Five’ and was interviewed by him for The Drum magazine in the UK, featuring on its cover; she has also just completed exhibiting work in London and Berlin, for the If You Leave showcase, as one of only 20 finalists selected, who were called ‘rising photography Stars’ by Dazed Magazine and ‘the best in contemporary photography’ by Huck Magazine.

You can envision her through her photographs, a living chimera of heterogeneous influences, shaking-off her dream-head, thinking through her lens, plunging through the cities she traverses in evasive lines of flight, beckoning you to follow…

9 June 2016
Sol-Sol x Young and Lazy drop an exclusive, collaborative collection at Corner Store CPT tonight!

This Friday the 13^th, the stars have aligned and luck is in your favour with two of South Africa’s finest streetwear brands, Sol-Sol Menswear and Young and Lazy, dropping an exclusive, collaborative capsule collection at Corner Store CPT.

Creative directors and designers Mathew Kieser and Anees Petersen have been inspiring aesthetic attitudes across the country and now join forces to create an internationally relevant, yet locally inspired collection with the versatility to be worn across a wide variety of cultural and economic situations; from the wayward delinquent to the advertising executive, from the care-free skater kid to the carefully-curated clothing geek.

Scope the impeccably crafted collection in the lookbook below, shot by Ricardo Simal; with classic long and short sleeved tees, collaborative text-based logos that will get the cool-collector drooling, reworked outerwear denim with the freshest silhouette, as well as beautifully detailed and reworked chinos.

With its quality, uncomplicated approach, combining a minimalistic pallet with subversive pops of colour, a tasty combination of fabrics, and an interestingly unisex feel, you can easily scoop one or two special items or wear it head-to-toe.

Check out the drop and party here and claim a piece of this important moment in SA clothing culture!

Credits:

Photographer – Ricardo Simal

Stylist + Director – Anees Petersen

Model – Pierre Carl Vermeulen

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

JN: What about shooting fashion interests you in particular?

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

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

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

Photography credits:

Photography: Nikki Zakkas

Styling and wardrobe: Thebe Magugu

Model: Melissa Orren at Boss Model Manangement

Make-up: Sancia Naidoo

12 May 2016