Tag: Simnikiwe Buhlungu

  • Group exhibition ‘shady tactics’ shows how throwing shade at institutions is a productive past time for artists

    Group exhibition ‘shady tactics’ shows how throwing shade at institutions is a productive past time for artists

    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 Fragilethis 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’s performative 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
  • Title in Transgression // an art collective as a support system

    “The importance of collectivity solely exists on the support it gives artists of colour in an industry and country engineered to exclude us,” states Malebona Maphutse, a member of the art collective Title in Transgression.

    Malebona bonded with the other three members of the collective, Boitumelo Motau, Dineo Diphofa and Simnikiwe Buhlungu, in a History of Art course they found problematic in content and through the skewed socio-political consciousness of the class due to the lack of black students in the course. Individually their work explores themes related to history, archives, visibility and invisibility, forms of knowledge production, forms of ritual healing, rape culture and Black feminisms. Together, they collaboratively explore ideas of collectivity and togetherness through their happenings. An important aspect of their collective process is reviewing each other’s work as a way to “tackle certain perversions of our work”.

    As a collective that is not afraid to directly address cultural appropriation, as well as race and gender politics, they have produced zines, tote bags and tshirts with slogans that express their views. “We made shirts with the slogans, ‘Aluta Continua’, ‘Who Polices the Police’ and ‘Teacher Don’t Teach Me Nonsense’ during the 2016 Fees Must Fall protests. We were looking for different ways of engaging with the protests as artists,” Malebona states.

    In continuing with the discussion about the themes they address in their work, I asked Title in Transgression about the importance of collective practice and their views on Johannesburg’s art spaces.

    What is the importance of collective practice, particularly for you as artists of colour?

    (Malebona) We exist as three black females and one black male. The importance of collectivity solely exists in the support it gives artists of colour in an industry and country engineered to exclude us. We find ways to tackle certain perversions of our work by constantly having them in a process of collective review by each member of the group. The four of us do face gendered and racial issues that are part and parcel of the socio-economic and historical status of this country. We find that collectivity grants a space where we can find solutions to financial, racial, and gendered or any other issue through collective think tanks such as collectives.

    (Boitumelo) We took inspiration from other art collectives who used aesthetic means to say something they thought is important. Not only are the bags and shirts cool they also carry value in the messages they have.

    (Dineo) We created a space for ourselves that in some ways acted as a support system. The world is tough for black women.

    (Simnikiwe) As a basis, a support system. Although we must emphasise that Title also exists because of our dynamic as three black womxn (Malebona, Dineo and Myself) and Boitumelo as a male. It’s difficult already as a black artists and it becomes more complex as a black women – we either fall in the box of being invisible or hypervisible. These are the symptoms of the conditions that marginalise us.

    As young artists of colour who have recently graduated from Wits, and who have participated in events such as Joburg Fringe and Lephephe hosted by Keleketla! Library, can you please share your views on Johannesburg’s art spaces?

    (Malebona) As young individuals/artists Johannesburg art spaces represent a multiplicity of geo, economic and historical politics that we have been navigating. Spaces in Johannesburg that have been left barren by the State because they need to focus on “Land reform” or corruption have left the economy of space in the hands of the white Jewish elite and foreign investors. This is the story of gentrification, and capitalism. We do however recognize that in some way or another we have the agency to not only transform these spaces but occupy them in ways that speak to the current condition of Johannesburg spaces turning into trendy gentrified hubs for the White South African elite. Spaces such as Keleketla! Library are examples to follow. We can exist in parallel to these histories so we can simultaneously contribute to the narrative.

    (Simnikiwe) Most art spaces in this city weren’t even made with us in mind. They are not for us. Most of them are white spaces (in their physicality, aesthetics; in their economy, their audiences, their collectors etc.). Thus, by proxy, being a black female artist means we have to navigate and find/immerse ourselves within our own spaces. And a space like Keleketla! Library, which has become our home away from home, has proved to be our point of departure.

    As a collective, what are you trying to bring into Johannesburg’s art spaces or understandings of the purpose of art?

    (Dineo) I don’t think we’re trying to bring in anything  in particular or doing something special , we’re just trying to do our own thing. We’re still trying to understand and navigate these spaces too.

    (Simnikiwe) I don’t think I even know to be honest. We are still finding our feet, trying to figure things out. But we are hoping whatever smallanyana things we do can help black [arts] narratives to exist and be visible

    Check out Title in Transgression on Instagram to find out more about where they will be next.

    ‘All Our Shit Is In Europe’ tote bag produced in collaboration with Danger Gevaar Ngozi
  • Title in Transgression – The Beloved Departed and Symbolic Death

    Fragrant tendrils of smoke and echoes of musical melodies emit through an otherwise unmarked address. A corrugated iron door opens into an intimate space of symbolic death. Sliver flags catch glimmers of the florescent lights upon arrival. A space of mourning marked by corner-bound shrines – memorializing moments of a collective life. Freshly plucked roses adorn the metaphorical grave. Commemorating a moment, as Title in Transgression is laid to rest in this funeral procession.

    The collective initially was born out of a frustration and desire to engage with the political moment, articulated in the form of Fees Must Fall. The month-long micro-residency at project space, NGO (Nothing Gets Organised), allowed the young artists to engage with omnipresent issues outside of the confines of the institution. During this time Boitumelo Motau, Dineo Diphofa, Malebona Maphutse, Simnikiwe Buhlungu, Nyasha Nyandoro, Robyn Kater and Kyle Song were able to explore notions of access and the ‘role of the artist’ in moments of protest.

    final-funeral-poster

    The thoughts and processes located in this space of production, were poignantly represented by the printed slogans lining the walls:

    Teacher don’t teach me nonsense

    Who polices the police

    Aluta continua

    The silk-screened printed white t-shirts donning bold font and bolder sentiments illustrated the immense sense of urgency felt and acted upon by the artists. In a myriad of ways, the creative process and mechanisms of exchange were used as strategies to think through the contextual crisis. The two-fold system of working with and simultaneously against socially symbolic conventions – as a form of critique – was present in the funeral service.

    dsc_5460

    The congregation was nestled in make-shift pews of pine fold-up chairs while sounds of plucking percussion echoed in the background. The highly esteemed ‘pastor’ Motau was slightly late to the service. However, upon arrival, donning a paisley-esque bathrobe and bright orange sunglasses, he addressed those gathered with evangelical fervor. Motau expounded in poetic verse – speaking to the “metaphysical transformations” that this day of death brought with it. “Let your tears heal”, as he suggested to “stop looking up and starting looking within” as a means to deal with “this painful reality”.

    A proclamation – “[this] death is attributed to white supremacy” – was in some ways the crux of the sermon. An unapologetic calling-out of the over-arching system – imbedded in institutional spaces and beyond. “[This is] also our death”. The levels of profundity were layered and nuanced. After the service, multiple prayers, a witness of character and the rounds of a collection plate clinging with silver, a buffet of sustenance was served. The moment of mourning, for the loss of the collective, shifted during After Tears as celebratory clinks of Black Label bottles marked the birth of a new potential.

    dsc_5513-1

  • Boda Boda Lounge Project – Defying Inter-Continental Boundaries through Digital Pixels

    A historical Imperialism, articulated through invasion and occupation. A systematic division spawned from the imaginations of white men to conquer for capital gains. A continent sliced up by the butcher’s knife of colonialism. Corners of conflict, fictioned intersections amputated and dislocated. A coloniality that runs through the semi-visible veins of demarcated territory. The divide between here and there.

    Border 

    [bawr-der]

    noun

    1.the part or edge of a surface or area that forms its outer boundary.

    2.the line that separates

    6.brink; verge.

    The phonetic Boda Boda Lounge Project emerged two years ago, as an intercontinental visual engagement that began to explore the notion of physical and conceptual mobility between spatially divided land. Fifteen different art organizations hosted the event across Africa this year. The project took place during the weekend of 18th-20th of November. Simnikiwe Buhlungu was one of the participating artists peppered across the continent.

    Simnikiwe exhibited a video piece entitled System to Dekakanise – she describes the piece as an exploration into “the complicated existence of languages in a socio-historical and cultural context in South Africa through the use of drawing and what I call Broken Inglish as a way of navigating various spaces.” The piece is an interesting and nuanced critique – articulating the legacy of assimilated English that stemmed from colonial rule and seeps into the contemporary moment.

    Boda Boda transcends borders through its, “cross-continental approach. The fact that the videos are simultaneously screened in various African countries which have different, but similar, socio-political climates and histories. While the videos may engage in the same framework (of the project), they are all equally different and tell stories from different perspectives.” Through this mode of representation, the project avoided singular narratives.

    The young artist perceived the conceptual crux of the project as, “Engaging with the spaces by which the artists are surrounded. Negotiating issues that exists both in the centre and on the periphery. Probing socio-political, cultural and historical thought with issues that are (un)discussed on the African continent. Doing so through the medium of video, which has its own history and existence in Africa. Something that is still somewhat of [an] overlooked medium in some respects, but also a medium that can be transferred to daily experiences do to its versatility as a technology. So finding a meeting point between these engagements and the medium of video.”

    Her engagement with other artists was heavily facilitated by digital media, “the engagement is not necessarily a physical one. It’s a virtual engagement, an (un)spoken engagement, it’s also a visual engagement when you see the other artists’ videos for the first time whether you are aware of their respective practices or not.” In this way work becomes a lens and proxy for physical interactions.

    Conceptual links that spanned the continent were notions of, “transgenerational conflicts, trauma, [un]written histories, bodies and what these bodies endure, navigating new and old spaces, language[s], socio-politics, economies of various kinds, colonial(ities) urgency and artistic response to these urgencies.”

    Atef Berredjem (Algeria)

    Awuor Onyango (Kenya)

    Boitumelo Motau (South Africa)

    Cameron Platter (South Africa)

    Christopher Wessels (South Africa)

    Ezra Wube (Ethiopia)

    Francois Knoetze (South Africa)

    Bofa Da Cara

    Gustave Fundi Mwamba (DRC)

    Jere Ikongio (Nigeria)

    Junior Nyembwe (DRC)

    Kutala Chopeto (South Africa)

    Lydia Ourahmane (Algeria)

    Maurice Mbikayi (DRC)

    Mulugeta Gebrekidan (Ethiopia)

    Ngassam Tchatchoua Yvon Léolein (Cameroon)

    Ntathu Mandisa Gumbi (South Africa)

    Ori Huchi Kozia (Congo Brazzaville)

    Paulo Azevedo (Angola)

    Simnikiwe Buhlungu (South Africa)

    Simohammed Fettaka (Morocco)

    Sisipho Mase (South Africa)

    Sofiane Zouggar (Algeria)

    Teboho Gilbert Letele (South Africa)

    Ubulungiswa Justice Collaboration (South Africa)

    Vincent Bezuidenhout & Nobushinge Kono (South Africa & Japan)

    Salooni (Uganda)

    Wiame Haddad (Morocco/ Tunisia)