Transcending both reality and fantasy, Janiva Ellis creates vivid paintings with unconstrained composition where vibrant colours offer a hint of cheerfulness and comfort, while exploring pain and violence.
Ellis is a Los Angeles-based visual artist working primarily as a painter. She creates raw and intimate paintings of contorted, exaggerated, drooping and distorted human and human like forms.
Her representation of figures is not bound by any fixed formality —decapitated heads, floating heads, heads with multiple sets of eyes, internal organs erupting from the body —these depictions are surreal but also a little bit frightening.
“To me, my images aren’t any more violent than many everyday interactions. Any more anguished than they are obliged. The unrest in my work represents a release, a shared sardonic moment of tension and amusement.” – shares Ellis in an interview with Artsy.
Ellis is most known for her dark and absurdist paintings which integrate cartoons and bold colours. In 2017, she presented a series of paintings at New York’s 47 Canal Gallery (Lick Shot) seeking to explore her own experiences of pain – using playfulness as a form of reprieve. Curator Kevin McGarry described the show as “a series of glimpses into the divine comedy of existing in a world where pain is met with doubt; into dynamics that are blatant and never-ending, yet consistently denied their truth.”
Despite the seemingly humorous and playful approach, Ellis’ works acts as a critical framework for exploring deep psychological trauma and the very complex intersections between race and gender. Her work often has an unexpected effect of shock, much like how trauma itself works. “You’re in this pleasant situation, picking up a cabbage, but there’s still a fraught dialogue that happens, whether it be a memory or somethings a stranger says that can feel psychologically eviscerating” she explained in an interview with the New York Times, speaking in particular to one of her paintings; ‘Curb-Check Regular, Black Chick’ (2017). This work depicts a scene at a fruit and vegetable market with one of the character’s insides gushing outside of her body.
Ellis participated in The 2018 New Museum Triennial – an exhibition dedicated to providing an important platform for a new generation of artist shaping the global discourse in contemporary art. This year’s participants included; Cian Dayrit (b. 1989, Manila, Philippines), Haroon Gunn-Salie (b. 1989, Cape Town, South Africa) and Chemu Ng’ok (b. 1989, Nairobi, Kenya) among others. The theme; ‘Songs of Sabotage’ sought to investigate “how individuals and collectives around the world might effectively address the connection of images and culture to the forces that structure our society”. Ellis’ satirical paintings – which seems weightless yet fraught with immerse heaviness – offer a degree of political engagement and continue to build a dialogue around issues of trauma and violence.
Ellis’ work carries a beautiful strangeness and offers us strategies of release through giving form and a new language to pain – disturbing the comfortable and comforting the disturbed.
Earlier this year Byron Fredericks presented his second solo exhibition; ‘Dala what you must’, at 666 Broadway in Brooklyn, New York. Dala is a relatively new South African slang word meaning “to do” or “do”— more appropriately applied as “you do you”.
Based on the title, the show takes on two meanings; the call for one to take action deriving from a decision, mood or attitude and simultaneously references the idea of directness, as in “don’t beat around the bush”.
Byron Fredericks is a Cape Town-born visual artist who earned his BFA from The Pratt Institute in New York, where he is currently based. His practice sees him using colour and mark-making to investigate ideas around identity and socio-political issues. Drawing on his own experiences as a “coloured” man growing up in South Africa he interweaves the Cape Coloured dialect into his work.
Fredericks’ work pushes past the traditional borders of painting — actively ripping apart the partition between painting and drawing while inserting text to drive the point home. The works take on the character of hushed activism; activism that is subdued and requires engagement and questioning from the viewer.
The surface of Fredericks’ work does not instantaneously reflect the complexity that lies beneath it. His work moves away from the literal, figurative style as a representation of the political. Flat planes of colour, very simple text and their inter-relationships are favoured over expressive and formalist approaches. He reveals his thoughts by engaging with materials and exploring their properties, and yet remains unbound by these materials. For an international audience, his work is an intriguing gateway through which to engage with political and socio-political narratives within a South African context. Titles such as ‘Gesuip‘, ‘Gympie‘, ‘Jika Zuma‘ and ‘Aikona, Buti‘ can be more effortlessly understood by a South African audience.
Fredericks covers large areas of the canvas with paint and sometimes uses none at all; as with Tall Rich White Dudes (2017) and Die Voice (2018). His paintings are dynamic and versatile, with a wide range of textures and densities. Densities in this sense refer to his layering technique that establishes both a foreground and background to his work. He attributes this to his “loose painting and aggressive mark-making technique composed with texture in mind”. Fredericks is carving out a new visual language for himself. “It’s funny you say that because it’s been my way of proactively figuring out my visual language, which will be even more refined in this new series I’m working on,” he adds.
Through his work, Fredericks is leaving marks and moments of himself everywhere. This positions his own story relative to colour. The surface is buttery and smooth and blends onto the canvas — pinks, blues, blacks and whites are embraced equally. His work succeeds in achieving aesthetic value while arousing our curiosities and challenging our perceptions. What seems fundamentally uncomplicated at first glance, becomes extremely multifaceted.
Eddy Kamuanga Illunga is a young artist from DRC whose work focuses on the nuanced layers of his country and hometown, Kinshasa. He began art studies at Académie des Beaux-Arts in Kinshasa, and found that it assisted him with the technical aspects as a painter, but muffled his work conceptually. As a result he decided to leave the institution, and found himself drawn to other artists with whom he found an affinity. Collectively they formed a studio called M’Pongo which offered a space for them to share ideas and exhibit together, molding their own styles that were plugged into the electricity of their city, and inserting this into the Fine Art space.
Individually, Kamuanga Ilunga zones in on the socioeconomic, political and cultural alterations that have taken place in DRC since colonialism. He has created work that unpacks the nuances around the impact of modernity on cultural groupings, and the way in which people in Kinshasa are negotiating change and tradition.
DRC is one of the largest exporters of coltran, a raw material necessary for the production of computers and cellphones. Kamuanga Ilunga makes reference to this visually through a stylized mimicry of a circuit board painted across the skin and backgrounds of his images. This also has the effect of placing his work, his city and the people he depicts in his paintings within the context of globalization, signifying its overpowering consequences. In his latest series, Fragile Responsibility, we see this motif used as the skin for the figures, while cloth, hats, suspenders, lace table covers, and porcelain objects tap into the history of the Kongo Kingdom, and the exchanges that took place with colonial traders. In this work Kamuanga Ilunga pays tribute to the slaves and ancestors who resisted the human trafficking. The figures appear somber and mournful, with their heads hanging low and cloth barely hanging on to their bodies, symbolically pointing to the loss of life and de-centering of African cultures through colonialism and the condition of coloniality.
To check out more of Kamuanga Ilunga’s works visit his Instagram.
The group exhibition shady tactics showing at SMAC Gallery in Cape Town purposefully throws shade at institutions, and presents this as a productive past time for artists. For this show ‘throwing shade’ is a kind of playful, at times flirtatious, interaction with the use these institutions present for the practice of artists. This productive cheekiness highlights the power matrix within which these institutions operate and emphasizes their maintenance of the heavy, pungent presence of coloniality. In an email interview with the show’s curator, Thuli Gamedze, she explained that for her criticality is a “deeply creative impulse.” The show’s title opens up a space for work that “chooses to be explicitly political and critical” and for artists who “resist the stylistic desires of art institutions, who can be guilty of pushing for a certain ‘look and feel’ when artists begin to be ’political’.” The projects for the show share a number of alternatives – “new, incorrect uses for things, along with incomplete and drifting ideas, failures, jokes and strange approaches to logic.”
When asked about her approach for curating shady tactics, Thulile explained that she wanted to work with artists of colour who are serious about the role of playfulness in their practices. The fact that the people included in the show are not represented by specific galleries brings a kind of open playfulness and unbounded approach for critical expression. “I was really anxious when I was trying to figure out who to ask – I scoured the last few years of catalogues from art schools around the country, gained a stalker-like edge on instagram, and made like a hundred lists, torturing myself trying to make rational sense of what was actually quite an intuitive process.” shady tactics includes work by Sitaara Stodel, Callan Grecia, Simnikiwe Buhlungu, Mitchell Messina, Katleho Mosehle and Bonolo Kavula.
In getting the idea for the show off the ground, Thulile explained that conversation and sociality are important for how she wanted the process to unfold. Having never worked closely with a gallery as a curator before, and only havng educational spaces as reference points, Thulile created a rhythm of regular dialogue with the selected artists and, when possible, shared space with the artists to work through ideas for the show.
Following her creative impulse, Thulile found connections between the works, ensuring that they speak to one another as well as the title for the show. The text for the show came out of watching the various stages of creation for each work. “The objects were not that important though. I think I was interested in giving space to people as whole creative entities – people whose sensibility, tone and politics I respect as generative, if visually unpredictable and always swinging. I think things weaved themselves together quite nicely visually, but I also think there was a big chance it could’ve ended up looking off as a whole because I hadn’t pinned people down specifically on my expectation of their stylistic approaches. But that’s interesting too.”
‘fuck you I tried my best’ by Callan Gracia
Each artist’s work connects with the exhibition title by engaging in some form of institutional appropriation – “using ‘standardised’ language but messing around with it to change the message.” Callan Gracia’s fuck you I tried my best looks at public walls and the messaging conveyed on them through his depiction of a giant rainbow sprinkled with fear and anxiety-inducing images. In this way he unpicks the rainbow nation rhetoric that is used in post-apartheid South Africa. “Callan’s huge rainbow is complicated and disrupted by his numerous depictions of dystopian destructions of post-1994 middle-class idealism,” Thuli explains.
In A Brief History of the Institute Mitchell Messina uses a collection of high quality image files which are curated and repeated over a number of scenes, accompanied by sound and text, to tell the stories around the fictional construction of a new art institution. The stories illuminate the money-driven nature of the art world within our neoliberal environment. “Mitch’s detailed storytelling…parallels familiar narratives of big money’s relationships with art in Africa.”
‘(NO) SEX IN CT’ by Katleho Mosehle
Katleho Mosehle’s (NO) SEX IN CT makes a comment on white feminism within the media, embodied by the character of Carrie Bradshaw from Sex and the City. This work demonstrates the violence of white femininism. Mosehle’s absurdist recreation of Carrie uses humour and caricature as devices to highlight this. Bonolo Kavula’s Fragile: this way up looks at the ways in which the colonial gaze ‘others’ and reinforces cultural dominance. By using the discursive and visual language of the YouTube DIY tutorial, Bonolo teaches the printing process and simultaneously problematizes the divide between ‘art’ and ‘craft’. “Bonolo’s work, combining a satirical commentary of art versus craft has intense political relevance in SA’s super elitist art world,” Thuli adds.
In her work Homesick, Sitaara Stodel constructs a section of a living room, with the overall work teasing out definitions of ‘homeness’. She uses still images collated from the internet and secondhand stores that demonstrate idealistic ideas of home to create a collage and video present in the installation. Her play on suspension and stillness creates an uneasy mood, recognizing that this home is not fully formed or able to contain a fixed comfort. “Sitaara’s work acts as quite an intimate reference point for the whole show, where her appropriation of images of other peoples’ homes to make her own narrative speaks to the desire for whatever ‘being at home’ means – an inherently political notion here, but also one she tackles in a deeply personal way.”
‘Homesick’ by Sitaara Stodel
Simnikiwe Buhlungu’sperformative installation A Loooooong Ass Message, ya dig? uses an old fax machine to deliver a message that spills over a stack of office boxes. This indirect presence of the artist speaks to questions around lack of access. The interruption of the gallery’s telephone line to deliver faxes of “the content erased and re-erased by art institutions” points to the importance of inserting politicised work that speaks against this erasure.
The show will be up at SMAC Gallery in Cape Town until the 9th of June.
‘A Brief History of the Institute’ by Mitchell Messina‘Fragile: this way up’ by Bonolo Kavula
The NJE Collective‘s latest group exhibition opened at Gallery One11 last night and has as its focus its Womxn contributors and the themes intrinsic in their practice incited by the current realities in Namibia on a political, socio-economic and cultural level.
In discussion with a member of the group, Jo Rogge, she expresses that ‘Trauma & Identity’ relates to individual and collective realities that Namibian citizens are faced with in a time when Namibia suffers under immense poverty, rife corruption, gender violence, unemployment and the depletion of national resources amongst other factors. Jo adds that, “…the queer space while dynamic, remains a vulnerable target for random hate-speech and physical assault.”
The participating artists for the exhibition include Jo Rogge, Masiyaleti Mbewe, Tuli Mekondjo, Silke Berens, Tangeni Kauzuu and Hildegard Titus. The artists engage in equivocal concerns founded on personal as well as political experiences. The experiences addressed include gender and cultural identity, nationhood, belonging and recognition. Jo explains, “This exhibition encapsulates the diversity and complexity of individual and collective narratives as witnessed through the lens of each artist, drawing on either historical or current narratives.” Artworks that will be featured will include photographs, paintings, installation, and mixed media works.
The relevance of this discourse within a South African gallery space is elaborated on by Jo as, “Namibia’s history is closely aligned with that of SA with the SADF having fought a bloody war against SWAPO on its northern borders from 1966 until prior to Independence in 1990. The post-colonial space is darkened with the lingering shadows of the apartheid system and racism. Unlike South Africa, Namibia has never seen the need for a process of reconciliation and there is a lot of unresolved trauma and pain in the national consciousness.”
‘Onde ku hole’, oil on canvas, 2018 by Jo Rogge
NJE Collective, formerly known as SoNamibia, decided to change their collective name in order to embrace multilocality as a means to evade issues concerning nationality that is regarded as patriarchal and exclusive.
Members of NJE Collective are either invited to take part in a specific exhibition or approach the collective themselves to become members of the group. The collective’s fluid membership means that members remain active by choice. Currently, the collective has eight practicing members.
* NJE functions under its own management, towards shared goals. It is also a space for mentoring, peer support and sharing resources. Meetings take place individually as well as in a group format in order to discuss topics of common interest, creative practice, and the potential for collaboration.
Come and support the work of these Womxn artists whose show will run at Gallery One11 until the 28th April 2018.
‘Collateral Damage’, oil on canvas, 2018 by Silke Berens
Throughout the history of art, artists have appreciated the versatility that fabric possesses. Viewed as clothing, skin and a source of identity, it can be manipulated and molded into an object (or subject) with conceptual depth. It allows for the creation of soft sculptures, or be used as aids in performance, but does not deny artists the ability to project a sense of hardness, scale or visual weight. Textiles can also be used as a presentation of and reflection on colonialism and global trade, as with the work of UK-Nigerian artist Yinka Shonibare with his investigations of political and social histories. Fabric also offers a way to think about personal histories, as with the case of Accra-based artist Serge Attukwei Clottey‘s work My Mother’s Wardrobe.
‘My Mother’s Wardrobe’ by Serge Attukwei Clottey
Clottey’s work generally examines the power of everyday objects. However, the above mentioned work is potent in the way that it gives an avenue for thinking about the use and signification that fabric offers artists and viewers. Through this work he explored the connection that fabric can create between mothers and their children. In this work he used performance as a way to interrogate gender roles along with notions of family, ancestry and spirituality. This was a personal work inspired by the death of his mother, and the performance unpacked the concept of materiality with the intention of honouring women as the collectors and custodians of cloth that serve as signifiers of history and memory. Clottey presents a vulnerability in the way that he brings across his own experiences, while inviting viewers to think about their own personal connections to his subject matter.
While is broader practice involves photography, installation, sculpture and performance, this work highlights the significance of fabric when thinking about personal and collective cultures, histories and intimacies.
Artwork by Turiya Magadlela
Johannesburg-based artists Turiya Magadlela uses fabric as her primary medium, cutting, stitching and stretching it over wooden frames. Her use of commonly found fabrics, such as pantyhose and uniforms brings the past life of the fabric into the exhibition space, where it’s very presence creates animated associations in the minds of viewers. Her use of familiar fabrics allows her work to oscillate between abstract art and a collection of memories interwoven with articulations of experiences of womanhood, motherhood and narratives from Black South African history.
Looking at the work of Clottey and Magadlela the significance of fabric as a container of history and memories becomes clear. Its physical and conceptual malleability highlights its ability to be a tool for preservation, reflection and identity.
“I think it’s high time we start to address that dance, movement and embodied politics all form part of re-imagining and re-defining where, how and why bodies can occupy space.”
This quote is from an interview with co-founder of ANY BODY ZINE (ABZ), Nicola van Straaten. She, along with Kopano Maroga and Julia de Rosenwerth, started the online and print publication with the desire to bring more cultural and social attention to artistic work that is rooted in the body, “but also a desire to expand ideas around what kind of bodies are dancing bodies.” The intention is to emphasize that every body is a potential site for “creative self-actualization” and “open understandings of dance”.
Having met during their time at the then UCT School of Dance, Nicola proposed the idea of the publication to Kopano and Julia. Since then they have released 10 issues, all dealing with varied aspects of dance, choreography, movement, and bodies through written contributions and interviews with people from different aspects of their industry. Every issue has a central theme that offers guidance to contributors, and a direction for the curation of each issue. Kopnano explains that the themes are based on their interests at different moments, making each issue a reflection a way of thinking at a particular moment in time. Volume 2, comprised of four issues so far, is focused on verbs that relate to dance and movement – Marching, Falling, Jumping and Hanging. Nicola explains that they chose verbs because they were interested in the intersection between language and movement, action and motion.
Previous issues from Volume 1 have included conversations about semantics, emotions, body politics and taboo subjects, offering a wide variety of entry points for conversations. The issue titled “Space/Place” tackles the semantic and political differences invoked in the use of “space” versus “place”, and connects to the act of curation and place making. The issue, “Rhythm” looks at sound and music makers within their community, and includes features on the Phillipi Music Project, a computer engineered rhythm making program by Mohato Lekena and performer and musician Coila-Leah Enderstein who features a lot in their issues, and who Kopano describes as a “kind of ad hoc, fourth member of ABZ”. The issue, “Sex”, arose from an interest in interrogating perceptions of the naked body in performance, specifically how it is always read through sexual references even when the intention of a performance has nothing to do with this. Other issues have explored topics such as race, colour, subjectivity, objectivity, the personal and the political.
“There are so few opportunities for people to share their creative work that isn’t easily consumable or sellable, which I think is why folks are always really keen to contribute,” Kopano explains while reflecting on how they ask people in their community to contribute to the publication. The publication is also a platform to bolster the profile of practitioners who are a large part of the growth and development of dance and movement and related practices in Southern Africa. They have conducted interviews with dancer and choreographer Rudi Smit, strange and intellectual performance artist Gavin Krastin and filmmaker Jenna Bass just to mention a few.
Julia, Kopano and Nicola each contribute in different and important ways to the project. “Julia’s incredible choreographic eye for detail (and the fact that she basically taught herself web design) make her the boss of the website. Kopano’s amazing relational qualities and ability to hold spaces have resulted in him doing a lot of the liasioning with our contributors, stockists and general public, lately he’s also been directing the kind of ‘business’ development of the zine. And my passion for books and print mean I head up the layout and printing aspect of the work. We all edit together, make decisions together, essentially ‘lead’ the project together,” Nicola explains.
Connected to the online and print publication is the third wing of ABZ, the performative platforms. ANY BODY ZINE has collaborated with NEW DANCE LAB, to create the ANY BODY DANCE LAB – a 6 week dance and performance residency for Cape Town-based artists. Teaming up with Theatre Arts Admin Collective and the Goethe-Institut Johannesburg, the residency comprises of a series of dance, composition, writing and performance workshops that culminate in a series of public performances by the 10 participants on the residency. The content from the writing workshops will be compiled to form a publication produced by ANY BODY ZINE. “We wanted to include a writing component to the ANY BODY DANCE LAB and thought that it would be very special if we curated a publication to contextualise and archive the project, but that also provides a platform for the residents to publish some of their work. As ANY BODY ZINE, we are also interested in the processes of content creation and saw this as a good opportunity to explore that question further,” Julia explains. What connects all three aspects of their work is the desire to make space for and to support independent artists.
Julia also informed me that after a fantastic Thundafund Campaign [Thundafund is a crowdfunding platform in South Africa], they were able to print their 2016 and 2017 content which will be available at the Book Lounge in Cape Town on Roeland street and Bibliophilia in Woodstock. ANY BODY ZINE will also be available for purchase at the Association for Visual Arts (35 Church street, Cape Town) during their Comics Focus zine and comics festival taking place from the 21st of June to the 19th of July.
Reflecting on their intentions for the publication, Nicola expressed that they hope it will allow people to think about their bodies differently and perhaps see dance as a more accessible medium. The publication presents itself as an archive of South African performance and movement practices, showcasing an image of the contemporary history of dance and beginning the documentation of SA’s dance lineage. The platform also offers validation for those already deeply involved in the industry and the possibility for opportunities for emerging artists.
Check out their website to find out more about their upcoming projects.
“In our current neoliberal context, dance really doesn’t get as much support as fine art or even film, because it isn’t necessarily a ‘sellable’ product. But that’s also why it’s such a powerful tool, because dance is an experience and has the potential to be internally transformative in that way.” – Nicola van Straaten
2016’s Vol 1 content (Photo by Nicola van Straaten)
For their first season in 2017, the new fashion label Section 8 was surrounded by a cloud of mystery, as the designers wanted to remain anonymous. However, Vogue managed to do some digging and found out that London designer Ryohei Kawanishi and stylist Akeem Smith are rumoured to be a part of the team. The decision for the team to remain anonymous is political. It is in reaction to the times we live in, where everyone is looking for large scale attention and influence. What did attract much attention, however, was having the models for their debut collection walk down the runway with dead koi fish in their mouths. The shock this raised in audiences resembled the reasoning behind the seemingly outrageous gesture. It was playing on the idiom ‘a fish out of water’, referencing the fact that the Section 8 team are exploring a new territory together.
Image from 032c
The garments were inspired by what the team imagined an intern working in the Trump campaign would have worn – making the collection a commentary on the increased conservatism in America guided by Donald Trump. The business casual, office-to-evening designs were reminders of 80s and 90s silhouettes which collapsed and gave way over the bodies of the models. Bland colours were combined with the combination of re-worked low fashion garments.
Building on the curiosity and fascination engendered from last season, Section 8 shared their latest ready-to-wear collection in a secluded church yard in Paris earlier this month . Titled ‘Free, white, and 21’ the runway saw models of colour wearing blonde wigs and blue contact lenses. The title is a phrase that appeared in multiple movies in the 20s and 30s in America, relating to unchecked and untamed privilege. Section 8 provocatively use the term as a reflection on its relevance in America today.
Image from 032c
Addressing sociopolitical and economic issues is the name of the game with this new label, and this is evident right from the label’s conception. Section 8 refers to a the low-income housing program in the US. The idea behind this is that instead of money being spent to build public housing, families are given vouchers to cover part or all of their renting costs from private property owners.
Section 8 is demonstrating the importance of using fashion as a medium for disruption and critique. The fashion world has its eye on the label to see what they will come up with for their next collection.
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